The Beiste Within: Finn's Awkward Confession

Author's Note: If you consider the press release (teaser summary) for Never Been Kissed (It talks about Sam and Finn and Coach Beiste.) to be spoilery and want to avoid this kind of spoilerage, then you won't want to read this. The rest is pure speculation-and desire for fluffy Fichel. ;)

Quinn started it. She slowed as she passed Finn and Rachel on their way to Spanish class. Her brows were low, and her knuckles were white from gripping her binder so tightly. There was a crease on her chin because she was grinding her teeth. Needless to say, she looked pissed off.
"Hey, Finn. I'm onto you and Sam. Santana and Brittany told me how you two imagine another woman when you're with us. The same woman. For both of us, You are both disgusting." Quinn spat out the last line, gave Rachel a pointed look and turned into another hallway.
"You and Sam are doing what?"
He groaned and pinched his forehead.
"It's not what you think."
"Okay," she said, putting her hands on her hips.
Finn just stared in disbelief. He was expecting a slap-a tirade-something.
"How did Brittany and Santana even know about this?"
"Finn, talk to me," she said, bracing herself. He noticed her knuckles were white now, too. Guess he spoke too soon. That slap may yet still come.
He looked left and right at the dispersing crowd of students in the hallway. People were splitting to pass them because the couple was standing right in the middle of the hallway. He took her arm and pulled her diagonally until they both had their shoulders against a wall at a corner.
"It's actually kind of embarrassing."
"Finn," he could practically taste the venom in her dark and impatient tone. It almost sounded like the way she talked at Puck.
Whoa. That was scary. He had to talk. And fast.
"Sam and I have kinda the same problem. We both have issues controlling ourselves with our hot girlfriends. When you let me-" he paused, licked his lips, then, even though there were only two or three students at the other end of the hallway, he lowered his voice-"when you let me touch your boob, I had to fight off getting ... too excited, and I came up with this idea of imagining Coach Beiste as you if things get too intense."
"Your football coach?"
"Yeah, it .. really works. It's almost too good. Seeing her in your little skirts and penny loafers."
Rachel squished her face, and her eyes glinted darkly. He thought she was going to cry, but she began to laugh. She was laughing so hard, she was gasping for breath. Finn started when Rachel clasped his left hand on his arm, both her fists bunching up the sleeve of his burgeondy sweatshirt.
"After all this time, you still have trouble?" she said, gently.
"Yeah ... And I just. I don't wanna pressure you or anything-so I gross myself out a little."
"For me?" Her eyes were huge.
"I don't wanna be that jerk who makes you think you owe me something you're too uncomfortable to do." He blushed, as the school bell rang. They were late for class. Not a big deal for him, but Rachel Berry was late for class, but she didn't even seem to care. Maybe she didn't notice the bell. If Rachel weren't looking at him so intensely, maybe Finn could have been able to think clearly enough to speak. But, at the moment, he couldn't think about anything except that Rachel's eyes should be categorized as their own color. It was so amazing and swirly and complex. It couldn't just be Brown-maybe a crayon color, all by itself: "Hey, could you pass me the Rachel's Eyes Brown crayon?"
Finally, Rachel spoke.
"Finn. You're—you're absolutely amazing," she breathed, reaching out her left hand to stroke his cheek. But she aborted that plan when she realized she would have to stand on her tippy-toes. She resorted, instead, to landing both her hands on his chest just below his shoulders and letting them travel to his arm, where she stroked slowly with her thumbs.
At the word "amazing," Finn had blushed and looked down at her hand as it made its journey across his body. Now that he wasn't looking into her eyes, he could talk: "I'll always be hot for you, Rachel, so you don't need to worry about a timer or anything."
She nuzzled her head into his chest and giggled. When she pulled out, he saw her grin, and he grinned, too. Then he swooped his head down, gingerly swept away her bangs, squeezed his eyes shut, and kissed her forehead.
She lifted her right hand and put it on his cheek, her thumb stroking his chin-then grazing his upper lip...
His nose traced down her face, first getting tickled by her bangs, then her eyelashes, then warmed by her blushing cheeks. She promptly gave his chin a nudge up.
"Now, Finn. Don't be a tease," she sighed.
Then their lips met. His hands ambled across her soft new giraffe sweater from her upper back down to her waist, then he jerked her waist closer to his. This caused Rachel to cling to Finn's neck tighter, as he was still leaned over to reach her face and she leaning back in a dip. Though it was harder now, she continued playing with the one curly hair that strayed on the nape of his neck with the kind of determination that can only be called adoring; she saw that hair in her mind's eye, just to the left of his mole. She wondered how he would react if he knew she had studied the nape of his neck almost every night they studied together. He would pore over the book, head bowed down, and she would pore over him.
And there was still so much material left to study.
When she was ready.