The Next Door: Under Construction
A/N: I can't stay away from the world of 'The Boy Next Door' and 'Who's The Next Door.' So I decided to write the sequel to 'Who's The Next Door' telling Finn's and Rachel's everyday life with their friends before the wedding in two months (so you would know where this story is going). Now Finn and Rachel are residing temporarily in a tiny apartment in West Village while their apartment in Chelsea is under remodeling to combine the next door. I hope you'll enjoy this story too!
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee and its characters, and any resemblance to real persons or organizations is purely coincidental.
Chapter 1 – August 2017
"Welcome to Kurt Hummel Grooming Boot Camp!"
Kurt announced in a chirping tone, having stars in his eyes.
The Hudson-Berry wedding was just around the corner. Much as Kurt would like to take command to groom the bride for the wedding, he had no choice. He had to get himself far far away from Santana's arrangement for Rachel, sex involved. That was absolutely the last thing Kurt wanted to get involved in. Who wanted to know about his own brother's and his best friend's sex life? He didn't. No. Matter. What.
So here he was. In the gym he frequently went with his current boyfriend Elliott—it had been six months since they had become exclusive. Instead of grooming the tiny brunette, he decided to groom the groom, which was to tone up the groom's body. Finn, of course, had been indisposed for his fabulous idea, claiming that Rachel would never force him to do such a thing, that she loved the way he looked and would love no matter how he became in the future.
But no. Simply no. He refused Finn's refusal. Well-tailored suits only fit well-built bodies. He was the one to provide his brother with the expensive tux for the wedding. Besides, had Finn said that he needed to go to a gym regularly to excess the extra flesh around his waist after McIntosh incident? Then why not?
Fortunately, he had a friend who was obsessed with maintaining 3% body fat. He also had another friend who kept his amazing abs every guy would die for despite the fact that he was working in the food industry. In addition to the two, he knew a person who once had gone through the police academy physical training.
"Are you fucking kidding me? Kurt Hummel Boot Camp?" Puck rolled his eyes at the guy with a headband-ish bandana which only Olivia Newton-John would ever wear. He pushed himself from the wall which he had been leaning against before approaching Kurt. "Who the fuck do you think initiated you into the police academy training method?"
"You might have initiated me into the specific requirements at the police academy, but I'm not gonna completely copy that method. I invested in this using my ingenuity. This is my idea, which means my Boot Camp," Kurt huffed before turning to his ex-boyfriend. "Right, Blaine?"
The shortest guy smiled at him sheepishly. Kurt and Blaine weren't together now, but they had reconciled as friends right after he had moved on with Elliott. Blaine had been eager to help him out introducing his boxing experiences into Kurt Hummel Boot Camp.
Satisfied, Kurt smirked triumphantly at the Mohawk, who just shook his head and plumped himself down on the floor next to Finn.
"Why am I here?" chimed in Artie, who was definitely not one to have a desire to buff up his body.
"Moral support," Finn mumbled petulantly.
Artie gave Finn a sympathetic smile before sighed in defeat.
"It's not that hard than you think it would be, man," said Sam, who was willing to cooperate with Kurt, patting lightly Finn on the back. He loved his own low fat body.
"Enough babbling," Kurt clapped his hands to get their attention. "And Finn, Mike and Blaine will give you dance lessons after this. Be prepared yourself," he sharply declared.
Finn loudly groaned. This was most certainly not what he wanted in the summer break, or before the wedding for that matter. He really wished that he had skipped the procedures Kurt had been demanding and woken up the next morning to find the wedding already had come.
"Let's get started!"
"What's this?" Rachel frowned as she took some sort of a notebook from the Latina's hand.
"Kama Sutra, only my original version though," Santana answered nonchalantly, continuing handing books to the girls one another. "Not only sex positions, sex toys, etc., but telling specifically how to make your partner's dick come hard."
"Santana, you are a lesbian," confused, Mercedes spoke before looking down at the book cover which was plain white.
"Okay, you should know that I've had more penises in my vagina than you've ever had in your entire life, let alone the number of getting laid with guys per se, you know, more than yours and Yentl's combined," Santana smirked, ignoring Mercedes' rolling her eyes. "Right, Berry? Tell her," she turned her head in Rachel's direction, "who gave you the tips of giving head technique and what Finnocence got in reward for your practice with a dildo."
"Yeah, I-," Rachel took a pause, realizing what she was going to reveal as Tina, sitting next to her, started to giggle, knowing all too well of the details. "Santana!" Rachel hissed, her face reddening furiously. "I rather observe confidentiality concerning the details of our sex life," she huffed, her arms crossing in front of her chest.
"I second that," Mercedes nodded affirmatively.
"Fine," Santana shrugged. "But I guarantee that all you guys will want to try some from those notebook once you open it. And your dickhead husbands won't ever consider tapping other women."
"How can you be so sure?" Quinn asked, giving the Latina a skeptical look. "You know what my idiot of a hubby can be like."
"You know he is all talks, don't you?" Santana pointed out. "He is only acting as if he got lots of attentions from chicks, which however actually he doesn't. And I'm sure the ball is, I mean, his balls already are in your court."
"Yeah, that's not altogether false, but," Quinn hesitated before let out a sigh, shifting on the couch in Santana's and Brittany's household in Bushwick.
"How long have you avoided having sex with him?" Brittany asked as if she could read the mind of the mother of two kids.
Quinn widened her eyes and stared at the other blonde girl. "H-how did you know?"
"My girl can geniusly see things, Quinn. That's her sixth sense," Santana answered for her wife. "But I could see that was coming. It happens once you give childbirth, or you get busy with your kids. In your case, you have to deal with three kids, if you know what I mean."
Quinn deeply sighed. "Not that I don't have needs, you know. But I don't feel sexy enough anymore. And I feel sometimes fat."
"What?" Rachel was dumbfounded at the blonde beauty confession. "How could you feel such a thing about yourself? Nobody would believe you have two kids already!"
"I agree with Rachel," the Asian American woman nodded affirmatively. "But on the other hand, I understand how you feel as well, Quinn," added Tina, who was only one parous other than Quinn. "On top of that, Mike is a chef. How many pounds do you think I've put on since I met him? 20!" she confided.
"Really?" Surprised, Quinn perked up her head to look at Tina. "But you still have sex with your husband, don't you? What made you want to have sex again?"
As Tina was having difficulty in answering in a right way, Santana chimed in. "Alright, guys. This was supposed to be for the Hobbit, but I guess I have to take it up a notch," she turned to face Quinn. "In your case, I'll take care of it later."
With that, Santana looked over the girls and announced.
"Okay, now open your books to page 1!"
"Hi, baby, how did it go?" Rachel greeted from the kitchen when she heard her fiancé entering the tiny apartment in West Village. They were currently being evacuated from their own apartment in Chelsea because of combining the next door.
"Ugh," Finn groaned, managing to drag himself from the entryway before he collapsed onto the couch. "I generally love Kurt, but I now hate him, so much," frustrated, he grumbled against one of the cushions. "Oof," he let out an irritable voice as Ms. Bonaparte jumped onto his back.
"W-what? Why?" Rachel asked as she emerged out of the kitchen. She didn't know what Kurt was planning for the groom since he hadn't mentioned anything.
Finn tilted his head as he heard his fiancée's bearfooted sounds approaching him. Despite he had been annoyed at his stepbrother and exhausted, he couldn't help but smile at her sight—she was wearing a pair of tiny black shorts, a purple tank top with a huge gold star in front of her chest. And her hands were covered with rosy pink cooking mitts. Cute.
"What did he do?" Rachel asked again as she took off the cooking mitts from her hands.
Finn let out a deep sigh, still lying on his stomach on the couch. "He dragged me into the gym and forced me to buff up my body with vicious exercises. Not only that, Rach, I had to take dance lessons after that," he whined.
"That explains a lot," Rachel said before perched herself on the empty spot by his feet.
"What explains a lot?" Finn closed his eyes, feeling Rachel's warm tiny hands caressing one of his calves.
"Kurt sent me a long email this morning," Rachel sighed, "you know, demanding that I manage to have you intake proper nutrition on a daily basis until the wedding. Sixty Recipes attached, if you must know."
Finn growled against the cushion. "Please tell me he didn't demand that I suffer from having only vegetables for two months!"
"Oh, you don't need to worry about that, Finn," Rachel patted him on his ass. "Well, he expounded the importance of intake of vegetables and fruits in the email, but," she emphasized as she heard Finn's groan, "the recipes he attached are mostly for carnivores. And I cooked roast beef for tonight dinner."
"Good," Finn let out a relieved sigh. "But I'm too worn out to move my ass, Rach. I don't even want to move."
"Aren't you hungry?" Rachel giggled.
"Yes, I'm starving," Finn rolled over to get laid down on the back, ignoring Ms. Bonaparte's resistance. "Kurt didn't allow me to fill my stomach before his Boot Camp," he said, rubbing his own stomach. "But I can't get to my feet."
"Okay," Rachel sighed and stood up from the couch. "I'll bring your dish here."
Finn, however, even didn't try to sit up on the couch when Rachel carried the dinner into the living room and placed it on the coffee table. "Finn? You're not gonna eat? You said you were starving," Rachel frowned.
Finn opened his mouth in answer.
"You cannot be serious," dumbfounded, Rachel dropped her jaw open.
She knew that Finn was still in the romantic mood from their recent vacation for 10 days in Paris, which they had decided to carry out as a dry run (not that 'dry' though, if you knew what she meant) for their honeymoon since they couldn't departure for the real honeymoon right after the wedding because of the show Rachel was going to perform as a lead role.
Rachel had landed the role Fanny Brice a month before and started rehearsals once they had gotten back to the City. She really really wanted to win a Tony this time (she had been nominated last year but not won unfortunately) and not wanted to take long days off until next June (if she won this time, that was going to be a little bit problem though, because it meant that they had to prolong going off the honeymoon another few months).
Yet, she was not going to comply with his demand that easily. What had Santana said this afternoon? Don't feel obligated to comply. Build up your own teasing plans. Right.
"You're not sick or anything, you're just fatigued. I'm sure you can sit up and eat your food by yourself," Rachel rolled her eyes.
"But I've got cramp in my legs. If you get a leg cramp in the field, you call a medical trainer, which means I'm kinda in a state to be taken care of," Finn insisted.
"So you're saying I'll have to take Rusty to the dog park alone?" still unacceptable, Rachel narrowed her eyes, her arms folding in front of her chest.
"No, babe, I didn't mean that," Finn tried to amend. "If you feed me, I'll be fine to come with you. Please Rach?" he pleaded with puppy dog eyes.
Damn, I'm really a sucker for these puppy dog eyes.
Rachel sighed. "You know, I'll do it because I love you and I don't like Kurt's idea of which he tries to change the way you look. But think about it, Finn, if we had kids here? What do you think they are going to think seeing you behaving like this? They should be perfectly disciplined and we should be their role models."
"I love you too, babe," Finn grinned at her. "And I'll behave when our kids are around us."
"At least you should be sitting up. It'll digest poorly."
When she commanded, Finn just stretched his arms toward her. Rachel rolled her eyes again, wondering how she could stop Kurt from giving her fiancé dreadful exercises.
Finn hadn't had a sore muscle next morning. However, the thought of that his body was not that aged than he had thought it would be was short lived. Two days after he had been forced into Kurt Hummel Grooming Boot Camp for the first time, he woke up sore all over his body. Thank God, he was in the summer break.
"Finn, are you alright?" Rachel peered into the bedroom after she had returned from the dog park. "Can you get up? Or do you want me to carry the breakfast here?"
Finn's eyes sparkled. "Am I allowed to eat in bed? Are you going to join me?"
"Yes and no," Rachel answered firmly. "I have another two children to be fed in this apartment," with that, she disappeared into the kitchen.
Approximately twenty minutes later, Rachel returned to the bedroom, carrying his breakfast on the tray. "I've got some fresh grapes on the way back home," she said before quickly adding seeing Finn winced at troublesomeness of peeling grapes as he sat up. "Don't worry, I already peeled them," she assured as she placed the tray on his lap. "Anything else?"
"Perfect," Finn happily responded, already aiming for the fluffy pancakes. "You're perfect," he said, munching.
Rachel beamed at him before sitting on the bed by his feet. "So," she started, "why didn't he include me in dance lessons? I should be included because I am your dance partner at the wedding," she whined.
"According to Kurt, obviously my dancing is not up to par," Finn snarled as he finished his pancakes and eggs. "Well, that's true though," he said before busying himself popping grapes into his mouth.
"But I'm not good at dancing either," Rachel mumbled. "I want to be included," she pouted.
"You aren't 'not good' at dancing, Rach. You could master any dance in a day," Finn pointed out. "Besides, you're busy with rehearsals and wedding planning."
"It's true that I'm busy with those things," Rachel responded. "But what I don't get is why you need dance lessons two months before the wedding. Other than our first dance, all we have to do is to sway."
"I know right?" Finn agreed. "I can't believe I did tango. With Mike!"
"Huh?" Rachel made a face. "We're not going to tango at the wedding! I don't tango! Why did he choose tango of all others for your dance lessons?"
"I don't think that was Kurt's choice," Finn said before taking a swig of his coffee, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Although he said that it was some kind of remedy for my uncoordinated legs."
"Whose choice then?" Rachel tilted her head to one side with a frown.
"Blaine's. I reckon that he wants to win him back," Finn answered with a shrug.
"Oh," Rachel took a pause, "was Blaine there too?"
"Yep," Finn nodded as he put the tray away from his lap.
"Interesting."
"He helped Kurt out to establish his Boot Camp method. And Kurt didn't seem to mind doing tango with him, if you want to know," Finn informed, arching his eyebrows. "Now tell me how your meeting with the girls went. You didn't tell me what that was for."
"Um," Rachel shifted on the bed uncomfortably, spreading her fingers on her lap. "I can't tell."
"Why? Why not?"
"I will tell or do you eventually, but now, I just can't," Rachel chewed the inside of her mouth.
"Do me?" Finn widened his eyes, swallowing thickly, as he got at what his fiancée was implying. "I don't mind if you show me how to do me now," he said huskily, stretching out his arms toward Rachel.
"Finn!" Rachel slapped his hand before getting to her feet. "I said that I would, but now I couldn't. Besides, didn't you say that you couldn't move your body? And I have to go to rehearse in half an hour."
"I'm fully capable to move one particular region," Finn shifted his gaze to his lower region. "All you have to be is my private cowgirl, babe," he pleaded.
Rachel stared at Finn's puppy dog eyes for a moment before narrowing her eyes. "I'm not gonna fall for those eyes, Finn. And you should get ready to go for whatever Kurt's planning," she picked up the tray and pressed her lips to his cheek, then emerged out of the bedroom.
Hearing her words "Kurt's planning," Finn groaned loudly and pressed his face against the pillow.
This was definitely going to be a long two months.
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