Rachel threaded her fingers into the knot on his tie and tugged down, driven absolutely mad as his hand opened and closed, dragging his long fingers along the sensitive skin on her upper thigh, underneath the skirt that was splayed across her lap. She sighed into their next kiss, pressing heavily into his chest as he groaned.
"I told you this dress is amazing, right?" He said, pulling away just long enough to barely and breathlessly get the words out before he dove right in again.
"You did," she said, kissing through her huge smile; he could say it again because she would never tire of the adoration. Adoration of the masses was one thing and it was great, but adoration from him was the best.
She pulled away and pulled his now untied tie with her and he took advantage of the opportunity to take a pull from the bottle of champagne he had kept in his hand and pressed to her back as they kissed. Puck had generously pilfered one for each couple, pausing to assure Rachel that it was both vegan and kosher, before disappearing into some dark hole with Santana. Finn had no reason to believe any of what Puck said was actually true, but he couldn't disprove it either. After the heady, loving climate at the wedding, he really didn't care, either. Puck's words were, for some reason, enough for Rachel to throw caution to the wind and imbibe with him and that was all he needed. Plus it was free and it had been literally dropped into his hands without him doing anything bad and earning a lecture from his beautiful girlfriend.
Rachel needed to learn how to relax a little, and he was determined to show her how to have a good time. He felt like the best person to show her. After all, Puck would say anything or do anything to persuade another person and Finn wasn't like that. She could trust Finn and she knew it.
Finn just hoped he could rein himself in a little bit before he did something she would regret tomorrow (making it, really, both of them that might regret it because being easy-going and not blaming wasn't really her specialty.) She was amazing in that dress. She was hot in that dress. And now that she was at least halfway out of the dress (he had successfully unzipped the back and rounded second base, thank Grilled Cheesus), she was just hot and bothered.
He tipped the bottle toward her to offer her some and she took it, her swig now a little longer than it had been earlier. She handed the bottle back to him.
"Rach…are you sure?" He asked softly, his eyes wide and watching carefully. "I mean…I…"
She was sitting sideways in his lap, his fingers still tickling her bare thigh under the layer of tulle that fluffed the dress out, but she turned and took his face in her hands. "I'm sure."
"Okay," he agreed, moving to kiss her again. Her legs and posture relaxed a little more and he inched his hand up further on her thigh as she unbuttoned his shirt and reached inside. Being skin-to-skin in any capacity was a fairly new development in their relationship and it seemed like they both craved it more and more. He wondered in a brief, fleeting thought if that meant they were getting closer to having sex and he had to repress his sigh. There was no way he could take that step with her unless he'd been totally honest about it being his first time… but only in the sense that it was his first time that meant something.
Could he be the kind of guy who violated her trust with dishonesty? There was no way because at the very least, Santana wouldn't let him. This time there was no repressing the sigh.
She pulled away. "Are you okay?" She asked softly, never moving very far away. He could still feel her lips moving against his.
Rachel could feel her control slipping as his hand moved upward from her thigh. She wanted to take another step. She felt like she was ready for something more, had felt it for weeks now, but one thing she was never very good at was relinquishing control. She wasn't good at trusting fully and letting someone else take charge. It helped at times that Finn wasn't very good at actually taking charge, but there was something about him when they were like this.
She wanted to lose control. She wanted him to take charge. When he would lean back with a sly smile for just a moment before he forced her to roll over on her bed as they were making out, she secretly loved it. She loved the way his weight rested against her and the way he was so careful to keep his hands busy in her hair or on her waist unless she directed him elsewhere.
He was just so respectful. So sweet. She loved him so much and was gaining more security in the ebb and flow of that feeling every day. She was finally understanding what it was like to be a partner rather than being the boss. It was actually nice to let someone else take charge once in a while and she trusted him to do it. He was the only one she trusted that way.
"I wanted to tell you something," she finally said, her fingers dancing over the short hair at the back of his neck. There was something in the air tonight, something heady and fast and wonderful. Something that made her feel brave and reckless and like giving up control.
"Okay," he said openly. "Anything."
She smiled briefly. "I'm getting tired of saying no."
Where before his voice was heavy, weighted with desire and lust and everything she knew she had put there by rubbing up against him during their long makeout session—now it was clear and maybe even a little uncertain. "Wh-what?"
Way to rein it in, Finn. As the voice in his head mocked him, he cleared his throat.
"Not tonight, of course," she said simply. "I would feel a little more relaxed if it was planned, but…you know, after we win Sectionals. Maybe during Winter Break?"
"Like a Christmas present?" He asked doubtfully and she actually laughed. It was a gentle laugh, though, so two critical things were at play: she wasn't making fun of him and she knew he wasn't entirely serious.
"There's something romantic about the first real snow," she said in a low voice. Her eyes were freely roving his face, her body was still pressed against him and her bare skin was so warm. There was no way he could say no to any of that. There was no way he could say anything. So he nodded his agreement.
With that, they dove into each other all over again, renewed in their bravery as they began exploring each other with refreshed fingertips. He absently set the champagne bottle down on the small table next to the comfortable couch Kurt had selected (at last meeting Finn's requirement for simplicity by going with microfiber and a regular couch—a dude's couch). Finn hardly noticed when the bottle bumped against an art-deco vase with an aggressively colored swirl that was loaded with flowers. They made the room smell nice and he could compromise—especially after Burt had flat-out told him that he'd better compromise.
As soon as his hand was free of the bottle, he slipped it around her back and unhooked the strapless bra she was wearing under the amazing dress. He'd felt stupid, and more than a little caught up in the mystery of a girl all dressed up (because when they were normally hot and smelled good, he wondered what magic they did to make themselves even more hot and even better smelling), as he asked her in an embarrassed whisper if she was even wearing a bra. He could feel her breasts crushed against him as they danced; it had been turning him on the whole time, so he kept his jacket on the entire time and was glad they had finished all the dancing as the official wedding band.
He really, really didn't want to explain to his mother that his girlfriend was giving him such a raging hard-on that even sudden remembrance of nearly taking out a civil servant wasn't helping him alleviate it like normal. Because he felt like it was that obvious to everyone. Rachel had given him one or two raised-eyebrow glances as they pressed especially close for a slow dance, but she hadn't said a word. He was surprised at her discretion, but he was glad she was learning some.
Now, however, there was no discretion and none of the normal restraint, either. It was almost like she was pushing a boundary now that she'd somehow committed to it going 'all the way'. He wasn't going to complain.
Rachel shifted in his lap as they kissed, her thigh brushing right up against his erection as she relaxed her legs to give him easier access.
What? Really?
Finn wished it wasn't a squeaky, thirteen year old boy asking if he was ready in moments like this. It would feel more reassuring if that voice would grow up and would match the grown up actions he was doing.
He rubbed his finger right against her lacy underwear and his breathing sped up as he felt how wet it was. There was no way in hell the mailman was going to help him now, either.
She moaned, even leaned against him a little bit. Her tongue was almost all the way down to his throat now and she had dropped one tiny hand down to rub against the zipper of his pants. There was really going to be no turning back if she was going to do that. He didn't want there to be any turning back.
One thought about the fact that he hadn't ever actually done this part with a girl before, and yet had managed to avoid telling her something much more significant he had done and he calmed down just a little bit. He hooked his finger around the edge of her panties, his hooked finger making skin-to-skin contact with the warmest skin he'd ever touched in his life. It was like she was on fire. She groaned and shifted forward a little bit, tugging down on his zipper even as she pressed into his finger.
She wanted this. She had never let him get this far before, but today was so special. They danced and it was so hot, so tender and so overwhelming that she wanted today to be even more special. Had she not already issued her disclaimer about wanting their first time to be planned, researched, and not just gone in a moment of passion—it was entirely possible that now could've been their first time. She wanted it to be, and the thought was sudden and she moaned a little bit, pressing her face to his ear as she felt him stroke her gently, his touch hesitating just a little bit without verbal permission.
The thought was not as sudden as the bright light flicking on, followed by the sound of footsteps and a muted gasp. In her shock and disorientation, she moved to pull away but felt Finn's hand move from where it had been back onto her thigh before he clamped his hand down to hold her in place and looked up at her with a subtle shake of the head.
If she moved, she would basically flash whoever had come in, but it would be him who was flashing them. The only way it could've been more obscene was if he wasn't wearing pants at all.
"Oh my God!" Kurt said. Rachel turned her head, barely able to see him at the bottom of the stairs. Mercedes' mouth was flapping and she was uncharacteristically silent. Kurt had turned his head and pressed his hand over his eyes. "Finn – hand check!"
It was an inside joke from the choir room, but as Finn and Rachel's relationship had progressed and they had shared more 'stolen' moments during rehearsal (with increasingly hands-y results), it was an increasingly necessary question. Same with Quinn and Sam as their relationship had progressed. And same with Puck and…well, whoever he was partnered with (unless it was Lauren).
Finn's face was bright red, flushed with his arousal and embarrassment all at once, as he clearly muttered "You don't want to know, dude." His hand around Rachel's back had slipped down to rest in the waistband of her underwear with the tips of his fingers tickling at the top of her butt; he wasn't moving that one because her skin was so soft. The other hand was staying where it was out of necessity. And maybe a little bit out of refusal, too.
Mercedes finally jumped into action, no longer uncertain and suddenly certain that all she wanted was to get the hell out of here.
"We were just coming back to grab Kurt's copy of Rent since mine is broken," Mercedes said easily. "And since the rest of you were hooking up, I figured I could at least enjoy some Taye Diggs."
Rachel shrugged and looked at Finn. She was bouncing back and forth by the second as to whether she was embarrassed by or irritated with the interruption. She simply nuzzled Finn's nose and gave him an uncertain smile.
Mercedes could maybe read the impatience in Rachel's posture and poked Kurt hard as she hissed "Hurry up, would you?"
It finally spurred him into action as he hurried three more steps to his DVD collection and began looking over the titles.
"'Rent' or 'A Chorus Line'?" He finally said. "I'm up for either."
"Take both, man." Finn suggested, and no one missed the edge in his voice.
"Both it is," Kurt said before he gave a nervous giggle. He grabbed both movies and waved at the pair. "Ta!"
"Bye," Rachel said, barely choking the words out as Finn started tickling the inside of her thigh again. "Turn…turn off the light!" She called to Kurt and Mercedes as they started to ascend the stairs, marked with quick footsteps.
The lights went out and Mercedes called "We won't be back!"
"Thank God," Rachel muttered as she looked at Finn. She was unable to see his face as the sudden switch back to darkness had momentarily rendered her eyes useless. But his breath was on her arm so she knew he had buried his face in her chest. "Now where were we?" She asked, trying to use her most business-like tone.
His face pulled away from her, his eyes nothing but sparking flint in the darkness. "I was about to ask you to dance with me."
Her smile was slow. "Oh, is that what you were doing? Because I could've sworn you had something else in mind."
He didn't want to admit anything—not yet. But he knew they needed to have an important talk before things could go any further. He wouldn't feel right about it. That's just all there was to it.
"Dancing with you was my favorite part of today," he said simply, reaching behind her to tug the zipper on her dress back up. "I wasn't quite ready to be done yet."
"Are you sure?" She asked doubtfully. She was trying not to feel rejected, but it was a sudden change in events; she hadn't foreseen it and it wasn't sitting well with her. It felt like there was more to his reticence than a desire to dance. "I mean, we dance all the time. We don't have all night, unsupervised at your parents' house under the guise of a chaperoned glee club sleepover, all the time. I thought you might want to take advantage of that."
He gave her a lingering kiss. "I am taking advantage of it. I just want to dance with my girl."
"Okay, then let's dance the night away," she agreed. She moved off his lap and held her hand out to him. "I know the perfect song to start with."
His smile was wide. "Oh, you do?"
"Of course I do," she scoffed. She moved to where his iPod was already mounted into a set of speakers. He'd been unpacking in the basement for most of last night. She knew that because she'd been there with him, mostly watching and occasionally changing his soundtrack. She picked it up and turned on the touch screen with a tap of her finger before she scrolled through his rather impressive list of songs.
During the summer when they had first gotten together, she had programmed a long playlist of her favorites on there so she could quickly bypass all the crap he listened to while he was lifting weights and running at one sports practice or another. She settled on the song immediately and the familiar guitar beat wafted through the room while she adjusted the volume.
He smiled as he came over to the table so that when she stood and turned, he was right there with his hand out toward her. He knew this song because she had played it the night before they went back to school and they danced to it more than once. It was the perfect mood-setter for the end of summer, he said in agreement after he'd gotten his first good listen.
As the drumbeat picked up insistently, he flicked his arm out so she twirled, and then pulled her back against him so he could drop his head onto her shoulder. He turned his head to press a kiss to her cheek before he sang in her ear in a close, tender baritone. She was the only one who heard him sing quite like this and it sent shivers—good ones—up her spine as he started.
"Our dreams are sure and we all will sleep well…sleep well… sleep well… you have stolen, you have stolen… you have stolen my heart."
As she turned her head to kiss him, he surprised her by flicking his wrist again and sending her spinning. He was no longer singing as he pulled her in, but was mouthing the words and looking at her so sweetly, so tenderly as the song talked about spinning around in her highest heels and then she was close to him again and he held her close as he said she was the best one of the best ones in perfect time.
She gave up everything to him all over again in that moment, kissing him with reckless abandon. He had stolen her heart, too. She was totally his, and in that moment of complete surrender, she had never been more terrified or more steady and certain all at once. She smiled. The song was, as always, singing the truth—their future never looked so bright, even as they kissed summer goodbye and now looked forward to snow. It might've been a golden summer, but it was going to be a glittering, magical winter.