A/N: hello everyone! no doubt there will be countless fics about Finn and Rachel's summer but i'm sure they're all going to be lovely, so I figured I'd try my hand at one. thank you so much to JannP for being my beta and generally encouraging and threatening me into finishing it. and thanks to all my friends on tumblr for your suggestions and for being my friend. and thank you to everyone who takes the time to read this and review; it so greatly appreciated.
disclaimer: i neither own nor profit from Glee or its affiliates.
He's supposed to be this big leader guy, the guy Rachel can be proud of. And really, that's all he wanted—to show her that he really is willing to be that guy she needs. The one who'll do anything for her just because he loves her. And the one who can stand up and do his job as a leader and help the team to victory.
Apparently he can't even do that. He cradles the snow globe thing in his hands and okay, so he probably shouldn't have stolen it from the hotel and stuff, but he wanted a souvenir since it wasn't like they walked away with a placing trophy or something. And it helps serve to remind him of what a screw-up he made.
He sighs and looks up when he hears Rachel approach and ask where he's been.
And since she's Rachel, he needs to be honest with her, of course. "Hiding out," he says. "Everyone hates me." He shakes his head a little 'cause he still can't wrap his mind around how stupidhe'd been. Like, he's done dumb stuff before, but never anything that's cost them a National Championship. He doesn't understand why she's not upset with him. He pretty much ruined her entire dream; who does that to the person they love?
But then she's Rachel and he guesses he should know by now that no matter what anyone else says, she's the most caring and forgiving person he knows. And she gets him, you know? And everything he says about how humiliated he is and how blew everything.He's just really disappointed in himself. Which sucks 'cause for a lot of the trip, he'd been pretty proud of himself, you know? It felt so nice and to have that taken away by an idiotic mistake is just…(though to be honest, a lot of times he can't think of it as a mistake because it was everything he'd wanted and he probably shouldn't admit that, so he doesn't).
At least, not until she asks him what he was feeling. The thing about Rachel is that she understands everything so well and he just doesn't get it. She makes him feel better about everything,even when he's not sure he deserves it.
So he tells her the truth. In that moment, he didn't give a shit about the National Championship. It was about them, about her. About how after everything, he just neededto kiss her, no matter what the cost. Like, he was physically incapable of denying himself of this one moment between them. He would have done or given anything just to kiss her one more time, that's what he tells her. He gave it all up for one kiss.
"Was it worth it?" she asks, not looking at him.
He doesn't need to lie or think about it or anything like that. He just smiles and says, "Yeah," because he's never been more sure of anything in his life. "What about you? Was it worth it for you?"
He realizes that his heart is pounding and wonders if she can hear that because seriously, it's so loud.
She nods and she's smiling and suddenly things sort of shift into place because this, this moment is the one they've needed. Where they both accept that they make each other happy, the happiest, and he needs her to know he's going to do everything in his power to make her happy and let her make her dreams come true. "Yeah."
She tells him she's leaving and he almost starts a little, but she keeps going and talks about how she's going to New York and is never coming back. And that's something he can get behind because all he's wanted from the moment he even hit high school is to get out of Lima. And New York is out of Lima, but he can save that conversation for another day, right? Totally.
"Graduation's a year away," he says, sliding closer to her. "You got any plans 'til then?" But he's already settling his hand on her jaw and he smiles a little when she places her hand over his. And even though he's kissed her plenty of times before, he can never get over it. How soft her lips are and the feel of her mouth under his. When they pull away, their foreheads resting together, it's like he's looking into a piece of his soul.
He's not really whole without her and he hopes she realizes this because he's still working on the being good at words part. (Honestly, he's surprised he even managed to write a song, let alone one that Rachel called amazing).
She leads him to the choir room and honestly, he'd kinda forgotten about glee club, but whatever. "New York is awesome," he tells her as he moves his arm from around her to clasp her hand. And it's easy, you know? Things just sort of fall into place. It feels natural to walk down the hall holding hands; like the shit between them didn't happen because it doesn't matter anymore. All that matters is that they love each other.
She smiles and rests her head against his arm for a moment. "Yeah?"
"Totally."
They walk into the choir room and it seems like everyone is in better spirits because no one tries to throw stuff at him. Even Quinn seems…chummy. Well, that's cool, he supposes. He doesn't like fighting with her; maybe he should tell her he likes her new haircut.
They come in twelfth place which, actually, out of fifty isn't that bad. And at least they even got to Nationals, you know? It was still pretty much the best experience of his life. New York City. Even the fact that they got the chance to go is amazing; he thinks they're all starting to realize that too.
Because there's such an air of camraderie that they've never had before, not even last year when they found out that the club wasn't over. He thinks this year has probably been even more demanding on them than last year, but they've all come out closer and more well-acquainted and everything.
They end up doing another impromptu Nelly number and it gets him thinking back to last year and how it took separating them all to show how much they liked being together. It's fun because it's relaxed and they have nothing to worry about except enjoying their summer. They have three more days of school, but this is the last club meeting.
Afterwards, Mr. Schue says he'll take them all out for ice cream, then amends it to they have to drive themselves 'cause there's no way they'll all fit in his car, but he'll pay for their cones.
He grins as he helps Rachel into his truck, feeling considerably better than he has in a long time. But that's just it, he guesses. Like, only he and Rachel can fix what happened between them because it was about them; not about Quinn or Jesse or even Puck, really. For the moment though, it's whatever. They'll have those conversations when they have them because everything right now is perfect and that's all he's worried about.
He picks her up at her house in the morning for their last day of school. He doesn't recognize the sundress she's wearing, but it's light blue with white polka dots and she's wearing a little yellow cardigan that matches her flats and well, she just looks so pretty. "Hey," he says, leaning over the center console when she gets in so he can kiss her good morning.
It's super awesome being able to do that, you know? Like, having Rachel as his girlfriend again and just being able to kiss her and stuff because he can. She smiles a little shyly before bringing her hand to his face and pulling him back in for another kiss.
There's something in the back of his mind that tells him they better get going so they're not late but then she does that thing with her tongue and he decides, screw it, and opens his mouth further. It's not super comfortable the way he's sitting, so he twists his body a little as his hands tangle in her hair. She sighs into his mouth and he knows it's a really bad idea to kiss her like this before school because, like, even though his mailman issues and stuff are controlled better now, he spent so many months without her that it doesn't take much to work him up at the moment.
He needs to pull away, so he does, his forehead resting near her temple as they catch their breaths, her fingers curling in the hair at the nape of his neck. "Good morning," she murmurs.
He opens his eyes and looks at her face. "Totally."
And she smiles that special smile that he's pretty sure he's the only one who gets to see and that makes him feel all good, but also kinda jittery because he still wonders how someone so amazing and talented could love someone like him. But he's not gonna give up on being everything she needs.
As he pulls out of her driveway, he asks, "Did you have plans or anything for tonight, babe?"
She purses her lips thoughtfully and while he shouldn't take the split second to glance at her, he can't help it. She's stunning. "Not specifically, why?"
"Well," he says as he makes a left turn carefully. "Kurt told me this morning that the four of us should go out to celebrate tonight. I mean, you, me, him, and Blaine. He said something about overcoming another year of high school and stuff. He gave a whole speech; it was pretty long-winded though, so I missed most of it."
She giggles a little and it's such a sweet sound, hearing her laugh and stuff. And having it be because of him. "That sounds lovely," she tells him. "Did they have anything in mind? And what time?"
He winces as he runs over a dead squirrel that he obviously failed to avoid and clears his throat. "Well, he said no to Breadstix and I said no to the Lima Bean. So then he wanted to go to the spa, but told him no way. So of course he called Blaine and—anyway, the long and short of it is Blaine's uncle or something is having a cookout tonight and well…yeah." He shrugs one shoulder, his eyes skimming the road in front of him.
"Okay," she says eventually. "That isn't what I was expecting, but it could be fun. Though do you think they'll mind if I bring a veggie burger or…something that I will actually eat?"
"I don't see why they would. Besides, Kurt usually brings all his weird organic stuff with him everywhere. So." He shrugs again and pulls into the parking lot at the school and cuts the engine. Turning to her, he whispers, "This is the last day of school where we'll have to come back the next year." It's crazy, isn't it? Everything his life has turned into.
She only smiles again and tells him it's a beautiful thing before pecking him on the cheek and hopping out of his truck.
When he climbs out, he gives her a lop-sided grin when he realizes she's just waiting for him to come take her hand. So he does, entwining their fingers together. "We totally shoulda skipped today," he says nonchalantly.
Her voice is stern but loving when she scolds him. "While I am aware that we never do anything useful on the last day of school simply as a matter of circumstance, it's still important to uphold your reputation as a model student. Colleges look at these things, Finn. And we'll be going to college in a little over a year."
He grunts in acknowledgement, chuckling softly. He knows she probably knows he wasn't even being serious, but she likes to have the last word and he doesn't really mind letting her most of the time, so whatever.
He sits in English or whatever class it is—oh, math. Whatever, it's pretty much the same thing. At least on the last day of school. Because all they do is watch a movie. But not, like, a cool movie or even something semi-cool like Jaws. It's about the origin of some derivative function or some shit and like who even cares?
He's pretty sure the only time he's going to use math is for, like, checks and stuff. Adding and subtracting and multiplying and whatever. But honestly that's why phones have calculators in them. So your brain can focus on more important stuff like what's for lunch and how sexy your girlfriend's legs are. Assuming your girlfriend's legs are sexy—which his are. Whatever.
The high point of the morning, since he doesn't have class with Rachel, is when his chemistry teacher gives them all Blow Pops and lets them do whatever. So he gets to talking with Mike. And honestly, if you can get the guy talking for long enough about one thing, he's actually like a chatterbox. Like, really.
And Mike tells him about how he and Tina want to celebrate and stuff, but she doesn't want to go for dim sum and before he really thinks about it, he's saying, "Well, Rachel and I are hanging out with Kurt and Blaine tonight for a cookout if you guys want to come."
Crap. He doesn't know if it's wrong to invite them because he doesn't know if it's okay, but Mike has already accepted excitedly so okay he just has to roll with this now.
He waits at Rachel's locker just before lunch so they can head to the cafeteria. "How were your classes?" he asks as she puts her books away and grabs her lunch box. He wraps an arm around her waist as they walk down the hallway. Really, she's so tiny, but he doesn't mind. He kinda likes the height difference, actually.
Like, she's so much smaller than he is, so they fit together really well and it's easier to try to keep her safe—which is really what he wants to do. Plus, he thinks it's pretty cute, too, how short she is.
"Mostly uneventful."
He laughs. "Mostly?"
"Well," she says as he picks up his lunch and they grab a table. "Do you remember Suzy Pepper?"
He moves his mashed potatoes around on his tray with his fork, unsure as to whether or not they're actually edible. "Um."
"Well anyway," she goes on. "I think she's finally gone off the deep end. I mean, I know I'm not what most people would consider normal—"
"You're awesome," he cuts in.
She smiles appreciatively, her eyelashes fluttering a little. And he wonders if they've always done that and he's forgotten, if it's a recent development, or if it's a one-time thing. He kinda hopes the latter isn't the case because he likes it. And it's another thing that makes him feel like they're in an old romantic movie. And okay, their last romantic movie date didn't end as he'd planned or wanted, but it all worked out okay (or way better than okay, you know) in the end.
"I'm pretty sure she tried to ask the English teacher out. She invited him to go to a pudding tasting with her and even bought him some kind of special spoon. It was unbelievable."
At this point, Finn is pretty sure he's going to choke on his lunch because really, who even does that? Aside from the fact that almost all the teachers at McKinley are either old or don't brush their teeth. And are, you know, their teachers.He doesn't know Rachel's English teacher because she's in the smart people classes, but it's still pretty hilarious. And soon Rachel is laughing too and Jesus, he's almost crying.
"What did he say?" he manages, taking a sip of his milk.
"He threw up."
Finn starts laughing again, but Rachel adds hurriedly, "I think he was just in shock, though. I don't think he's been on a date in at least six years. But then the bell rang and we all scrambled out of there as fast as we possibly could."
When he calms down enough to take a bite of his lunch, he looks over at her. "So, I need to tell you something…" When he sees the look of panic on her face, he throws his hands up a little defensively. "No, it's not bad. But I was talking to Mike earlier and I-may-have-accidentally-invited-him-and-Tina-to-Blaine's-uncle's-cookout-tonight," he finishes in a rush.
She blinks at him. "Do you think Kurt and Blaine will mind?"
"I dunno."
She shrugs a little. "Well, I suppose Kurt is the person to talk to about this, not me." She takes a dainty bite of her sandwich and he shrugs his agreement.
She's probably right. Well, she's almost always right, but whatever.
And he should totally see if he can get her to make him lunch next year.
As it turns out, Kurt is only a littleput out by the fact that Mike and Tina are coming with them. He tells Kurt he'll just meet him there since Kurt wants to be there pretty early and Finn…doesn't. Not that he doesn't think it will be fun (if a little awkward and stuff) but he wants some time with Rachel first before they pick Mike and Tina up.
He's lounging on her bed as she gets ready. He'd dressed up a little—basically, he'd changed into his nicest pair of jeans and put on a button-down shirt, but drew the line at a tie. Maybe if they were going out to a restaurant or something, but they're hanging out with his brother's boyfriend and some of their friends. He'd left the first few buttons undone because it's May and even though it's Ohio it's kinda warm out.
He's fiddling with the button on his jeans while he waits until he realize he probably shouldn't do that. Like, what if she walks out and—he stops and puts his and under his head with the other one, looking up at the ceiling.
She comes out of the bathroom a few minutes later and he sits up to look at her, unconsciously licking his lips. Her dress is red and only a little shorter than usual, but… "You look so pretty," he says. He's probably been saying it a lot lately. But he's trying to make up for the things he didn't do the first time they really dated. He should have told her a lot more often and he still feels bad that he never really helped with the self-esteem problems she had.
But she smiles and murmurs her thanks, holding her hand out for him to take as he climbs off the bed. Taking it, he leads her to his truck, trying to remember the way to Mike's house from here.
On the bright side, he only makes one wrong turn and at least he doesn't run over anything or anyone.
"'Sup, dude?" he asks when Mike and Tina climb into the back of his truck. It's pretty cramped back there, but there's not much he can do about it and they seem to get him back for having to sit back there by making out the entire drive.
He can tell Rachel is super uncomfortable and he, like, wants to say something to his friends. But if he does, that means he's, like, aware of it and he doesn't want them to think he's watching or listening to them 'cause that's weird and stuff.
Rachel isn't entirely a prude. He knows he kinda thought that last year, but they've talked a little and spent all last night making out and stuff and actually, his lips are still a little tingly. But anyway, so she does like kissing and such things, but her face is so red and her hand is covering her mouth and crap, she just looks so adorable. And—fuck, he totally doesn't remember where he's going.
"Rach?"
She looks over at him, her cheeks flushed, and he rolls his eyes as the noises coming from the back of his truck. Seriously, those two, are they ever notmaking out and stuff? The hell?
"Yes, Finn?" she squeaks out, and he resists the urge to chuckle.
"Can you just tell me where we're going again? I kinda forgot…"
She bites her lip to keep from grinning and pulls a slip of paper form her purse with the directions to Blaine's. She's actually a really good navigator—and extremely efficient, so they actually manage to make it to the house in one piece. Well, four individual pieces, but you get the sentiment.
Anyway, Kurt greets them happily, taking Rachel's dinner from her when they arrive and bringing it outside. It warms his heart and stuff when he sees the two of them hugging because he's glad that people are finally starting to appreciate her for who she is and not just what she can do. And it's even more awesome that it's his brother. He thinks the three of them—him, Kurt, and Rachel—could be pretty fierce and unstoppable in New York and stuff. But he doesn't think Rachel knows that he wants to go with her—and Kurt, since he knows Kurt is going there too—but it doesn't matter yet and he's got time to kill before he brings it up.
"Hey guys." He hears Blaine come out of the house, smiling at them as he walks to stand next to Kurt. He'd talked to Kurt about the Mike and Tina thing and Blaine said it was all cool, so he motions for all of them to follow him.
It turns out the dude's uncle, whose name is Roc (seriously—and yes, he's doing his best not to laugh) has a pretty sweet place. He sits next to Rachel on some couch lounger thing on the patio as Roc stands at the grill.
Mike and Tina and Kurt and Blaine sit across from them and Finn feels like maybe this is actually going to be pretty awkward. He's never really been on a double date before because Quinn always loathed the idea and Kurt never seemed to enthused when he offered anyway. And he doesn't count that date thing with Brittany and Santana 'cause it was really just them going on a date and him eating a granola bar in his truck by himself. Not awesome, by the way.
"What have you guys got planned for the summer?" Kurt asks.
"Mike and I have season passes to Cedar Point," Tina says excitedly. He grins 'cause that's pretty awesome, but then realizes he doesn't even know if Rachel likes roller coasters and stuff—he should totally find that out.
They chat aimlessly for a while. And Rachel tells them that she's planning to audition for some of the community plays over the summer, so she and Kurt get to talking about a lot of stuff he's pretty clueless about, but it's okay because he just likes listening to them talk. He's not really sure what his plans for the summer are; he should probably get a job or something. He spent most of his money on that date with Rachel in New York.
When Roc (and Finn is only barely able to control his giggling 'cause the guy is like two-hundred pounds and muscley and bald and his name is Roc) brings their dinner, Finn makes sure to thank him. And this is actually pretty date-like 'cause they're the only ones hanging out over here, where all these adults he definitely doesn't know and stuff are over by the pool.
So of course midway through the meal, Kurt ('cause he's a gossipmonger—that's what Rachel calls it) asks the question. "So you two are really back together? Because I can't take when you're both pining after each other from afar."
Finn shifts in his seat because was he really…pining after Rachel? Wouldn't that make him pathetic or something? Then again, he guesses he kinda is, or at least can be. "Yeah," he answers, smiling and squeezing Rachel's hand under the table.
She nods. "Finn and I have had sever healing and soul-exposing conversations since the day of our last glee club meeting and I think we're going pretty solid now." She sips at her lemonade for emphasis that this is the end of the discussion.
And yet, "Well, we didn't talk last night…" slips out of his mouth, a smirk on his lips. Then his eyes go wide and her face turns red again and Mike, Tina, and Kurt burst out laughing and Blaine just stares at him. "Sorry," he mouths to Rachel, noticing the hickey on her neck and also realizing that everyone else has noticed it too—and is staring at it.
That must have been why she was wearing a sweater earlier, and then she must have forgotten about it when she changed. Oops.
"Well, at least it didn't happen in someone else's car," he quips, glaring at Mike and Tina, who immediately freeze. Tina's hand flies to her neck, which is—like, he wasn't even aware she had one too, but that means it happened in his truck and he reallyneeds to talk to them about that because it's just not okay.
Blaine is staring at them as if they're all crazy—and he might be right—but Kurt puts his hand over top of Blaine's and whispers something near his ear, which Blaine smiles fondly at.
He has a feeling he doesn't want to know, so he just goes back to eating his burger while Mike and Tina check each other for more hickeys and stuff. "Guys," he says. "Seriously, none of that on the way back." He looks at them pointedly.
"Sorry," Mike says sheepishly. Rachel sends Finn a look and he lifts a shoulder in reply because he doesn't even know what to say.
"How are you doing?" he asks Rachel quietly a while later, leaning into her.
She yawns a little, but then says, "I'm okay." And then she yawns again and he purses his lips. According to his phone it's almost ten o' clock, which means they've been there for like four hours already and no one is even talking anymore. They're just sitting there in silence and watching fireflies. It's pretty nice but Rachel is getting tired, no matter what she says, and Tina looks like she's about to fall asleep too. And it's not thatlate, but he gets it. The relief of finishing another year, and the whole school year itself—it gets to you.
So he tells Kurt and Blaine they've got to get going and hugs his brother goodbye; he's pretty sure Kurt is staying here tonight and he wonders if Burt knows that, but it's not like he's gonna say anything either way. "I'm happy for you," Kurt tells him, but then shoots him a look. "Take care of her—I know you will, Finn," he adds before Finn can protest. "But if something happens between you two, it will seriouslythrow off the design plans I've started for the apartment we'll rent when we move to New York. Ta ta!"
He twists away and Blaine nods a goodbye before leading Kurt back in the house, an arm around his waist. He smiles a little because it's pretty awesome, how happy his brother is and stuff. But then everything Kurt just said hits him like a brick.
Like, the idea of all three of them being in New York has occurred to him, obviously, but not so much the specifics. All three of them in one apartment? What if he and Rachel want to have sex on the couch or something? Or what if—he shakes his head and mutters, "Nothing," when Rachel asks him what Kurt said to him that has him thinking so hard. She doesn't push it though.
And at least it's quiet on the way back because Mike and Tina are asleep and the only noise is Rachel's soft humming. He drops Mike and Tina back at Mike's house and waves goodbye before heading to Rachel's.
"I, er, I know that probably wasn't what you were expecting, but did you…have fun?" His hands clench a little on the steering wheel and he pulls into her driveway, cutting the engine and looking over at her.
"Yeah," she tells him, her voice soft. "It was fun, actually. If a little awkward at times."
He bites his lip momentarily before leaning forward to kiss the mark on her neck. "Sorry," he whispers into her skin. She rests her head on his, her fingers stroking through his messy hair and he wonders if he should tell her how much he loves it when she does that and how good it feels.
"It's okay," she whispers back. She lifts her head and takes his face in her hands, her eyes focused on his before pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. "It was worth it."
He grins and kisses her again, tugging lightly on her hair before murmuring goodnight. And, like, of course he wants to stay and stuff, but one, it's pretty short notice. Two, he's not sure how okay with that either of their parents would be. And three, he doesn't want to freak her out or make her think he's looking for sex or anything.
She turns and waves at him before disappearing into her house and he smiles to himself as he turns the truck back on.
It wasn't exactly the night he was expecting, but it's pretty awesome all the same.
For the first week of summer vacation, they don't really do anything specific. Like, she helps him pack up his drum set because he's going away for the weekend to help clean up Burt's camp and apparently there are people who are looking for a drummer or something so he decides what the hell? And even if it doesn't pan out, it's not like he's losing anything. And it gives him a way to release his frustrations because cleaning definitely frustrates him—just not in the, you know, funway.
Whatever. But it ends up working out okay anyway because Rachel has an audition this weekend so it's not like they would have gotten the chance to hang out much even if he were going to be around.
Right now she's packing his duffle bag because she's way more organized than he is and he's less likely to forget something this way. He does find it kind of funny though, the way she neatly folds his shirts and jeans and stuff. She's cute and he grins watching her, placing his cymbals in their cases.
His eyes widen when he realizes what it is she's packing now—his underwear. He swipes them away from her and stuffs them into his bag. He's not sure why it's embarrassing, but it probably has to do with the fact that she'd just been holding them up and staring at them and he's still unsure what that actually mean.
She looks up at him and he notices how wet her lips look. Had she been licking them? Had she—holy shit, was she licking her lips while holding his underwear? What does thatmean? "Rachel?"
Her eyes meet his and he sees that she's back to folding a pair of shorts. She doesn't say anything for a couple minutes, so he goes back to his drums. But after a while he hears a soft, "You wear boxer briefs?"
He freezes. Should he be embarrassed? He's pretty sure dudes are supposed to wear boxers and actually he had been for quite a while, but…look, okay. So when he did the Brad thing for the Rocky Horror Picture Show and stuff and he had to wear those tighty whities, he sorta…well, didn't like them. But they were more comfortable than he'd expected them to be. But he still wasn't completely at ease when he wore them because sometimes they squeezed his junk a little too hard, but when he went shopping for new clothes (shut up) he compromised. Because obviously he's not the greatest at math but boxer + tighty whities = boxer brief.
And well, he hasn't looked back since then. "Um," is all he can really say to that. At least until he knows what would be better to say.
"I just…I wasn't expecting it," she says. He's still not sure what that means. "It's hot," she breathes, then looks away, a blush creeping its way up her neck to her face.
Hold up. Did she just….call his underwear hot?
Holy shit. What does he even do now? Thank her? Kiss her? Tell her that if he saw her underwear he's pretty sure it would be hot too?
What is this? What does he—but it doesn't matter because soon she's biting her lip like she's embarrassed and he walks forward and places a hand on her shoulder, gently pushing her to sit down on the bed. He leans his forehead against hers (and he's pretty sure he's become a lot more cuddly since they got back together and if he didn't love her and enjoy it so much, he'd probably be annoyed but whatever). "Rachel," he murmurs, skimming kisses over her face.
He feels her breath on his cheek and drops a hand to her knee, his other titling her face up so he can look at her. "Don't be embarrassed or anything, okay? I mean, I'm pretty sure your underwear are hot and you know, stuff and really—"
Fuck, he's like stuttering and stuff again. He totally forgets what he's going to say because he can kind of see down her shirt and it's really not helping and damn it. But she's laughing softly, even though she pushes him away. He eyes her curiously as she takes a deep breath.
And suddenly he can't breathe either because her shirt is off and he's staring at her boobs, covered in a light pink bra and what even is happening because this can't be real and like he touches her chest all the time now but not under the shirt and—she takes his hand looks up at him. "I suppose it's only fair." Her voice is lower than normal and he swallows thickly.
Because this is, like, every wet dream come true and he's not even sure what he did to deserves this, but she's taking his hand and leading it around her back to the clasp of her bra.
"A-are you—is this, I mean, I w-won't—" What the hell happened to his ability to form words?
Oh, Rachel's boobs. Right. But still. She smiles and tells him she's sure and suddenly he's kinda annoyed that they're going to be apart this weekend. Bad timing much?
But he settles for making the best of what he has right now.
She wants to plan a surprise birthday party for Mercedes. Which is cool and he's totally down for it, but he's not really the most appropriate event coordinator. "Is she gonna want more puppies?" he asks.
She rolls her eyes playfully, sealing the invitations she'd made. He has to hand it to her though, she's pretty artistically inclined when she wants to be. She and Kurt have been doing most of the brainwork stuff, though. His job is just to make sure they have food. Which is his department; he knows tons of people and companies and stuff that can cook. Especially now that he's managed to get a job down at the Lima Bean. They don't cater or anything, but there's a woman there whose daughter owns a catering company and she said they'd be willing to give him a discount.
Granted, the lady is probably like thirty and looks at him like he's a piece of meat, but he figures it's better to order food since making it is not really his thing. And Rachel's good at baking, but her family really only cooks dinner on Tuesdays and Sundays. Other than that; they're pretty committed to takeout.
And as for his mom, well, she's already given him more than enough and he doesn't wanna bother her. So yeah, he'd opted for the catering company.
"When do you have to work tonight?"
"Ugh," he groans in annoyance. "From five to nine." He doesn't mind the work. Like, it's kinda boring, but he needs the money and it's better than Sheets N Things, so okay.
She gives him a glance of pity, but says, "I think it's really great that you're working, you know. And how you're taking the initiative."
His lips twitch. "Thanks. You should totally come visit me, you know."
And of course it's not like he's saying that just so they can make out on his break—though he wouldn't be opposed to that at all—but he likes the idea of her just coming to visit him. Like, it makes him feel older, like they're living in New York already and she's just gotten out of rehearsals and he's still at work and has to work overtime, so she stops by and maybe she orders Chinese and they eat dinner together in his office while he—does whatever it is he'd need to do.
It's probably stupid, but he's just…it's really starting to come together for him. For so long, he just felt worthless and anchored here to shitty Lima. But he's realizing now that it doesn't need to be like that. He can do this, right? He can go to New York. Even if maybe he doesn't get into an awesome college, there's bound to be something. He knows now that it has a lot to offer—even to people like him. So it's not really that hard to envision them living there.
And it'll be way better than high school, he knows. But he's not thinking about school right now 'cause it's summer than that would be a waste of time.
"I don't know," she says slowly. "Would I be imposing?"
"Rachel," he says seriously. "One thing you can never do is impose on my life. The other is stop mattering to me."
Crap, he totally hadn't meant to get all sappy, but she does that to him sometimes. He should really work on that. But he guesses he must have said somethingright because she looks up at him and her eyes are slightly misty, but she doesn't look mad or anything. In fact, she motions for him to come closer to her from where he's leaning against the kitchen counter.
He walks to where she's sitting at the table and she stands up, wrapping her tiny arms around his waist and he leans down to make the hug more comfortable. And he's pretty sure she's sniffing his chest again—she did that once last year at a party at her house when she was drunk—but it feels nice. And at least this time there aren't any conflicted feelings. He kisses the top of her head and she's murmuring something into his T-Shirt that he doesn't catch.
"I'll come see you tonight," she tells him as she pulls away, smiling widely.
"Awesome."
He picks up an invitation, his eyes roaming over the words. "Uh, babe?"
"Mmm?"
He points to a sentence. "You, ah…made a typo."
The look on her face makes it seem like it's the end of the world. Which, for her, he supposes it's kinda the same thing. So he helps her hand correct them all, and they look pretty good still, actually.
And she even does come by and visit him at work later.
They're sitting on a beach towel he found in his truck and he watches as she gazes up at the sky. It's almost midnight and he's sort of nervous because they've never been out this late and he's still pretty sure her dads are going to show up at the park and kick his ass, even though they're out of town for some kind of convention or other.
It's mid-July and the night is warm and muggy; his shirt is off and his hands are ups hers, caressing the smooth skin of her stomach. He lifts his eyes upwards, staring at the stars. There's one that shines a little brighter but he's not sure why because science isn't his best area, especially when you can't blow stuff up.
He presses his lips to her neck, enjoying her soft whimpers. He loves when they're like this—not just the half naked stuff, but when they're just relaxed—when she'srelaxed. And he's not gonna lie, he didn't figure she'd be up to any kind of public affections like this in the park, but she totally proved him wrong.
And, like, he knows they had the whole super PDA thing going on at Nationals, but that really wasn't intentional, you know? And like this…this sois. But no one else is around—probably because there's a summer fest thing going on in the next town over and pretty much everyone else is there. But they'd opted out of it and he's not really bother by that 'cause they're having an epic night anyway.
He rolls on top of her, feeling that needto kiss her again, as his hand slips up and under her bra, rubbing at a hardened nipple. She lets out a breathy little squeak and her hips rock up into his, so he kisses her harder, his tongue brushing across the roof of her mouth.
Before he knows it, he's grinding against her but he can't stop and she doesn't ask him to. Instead her hands drop to the button on his shorts and she looks up at him, her eyes dark and her chest is rising and falling rapidly. He holds her gaze, still unsure of what exactly is happening, until he feels her hand wrap around his length and he lets out probably the most embarrassing sound; a cross between a growl and a whimper.
"Rachel," he chokes out.
"I want to touch you," she whispers, rolling them over so she's straddling his lap. He nods dumbly because he's not sure he's really capable of anything else.
It takes her a minute to really figure out what she's doing, and he offers to help, but she says she'll figure it out. And she totally does.
She pulls down his boxer briefs a little, freeing him, her hand tightening its grip around him. He groans and sees the way she smirks, even though the only light surrounding them is moon and starlight. And when she leans down to place a kiss on his tip, he almost loses it. As it is, his hips buck upward and she's clearly not expecting it because he ends up brushing against her lips, causing her tongue to dart out.
And even though he only feels it for a couple seconds, feeling her warm tongue on his dick finally isenough to send him over the edge. He sits up, a little embarrassed, but grateful he'd managed to…miss her when he came. His breathing is still heavy when he reaches for his shirt and cleans himself off, feeling her eyes on him.
"Rachel," he says again as she fixes his underwear and buttons his shorts back up. But she shushes him by settling her lips over his.
"I love you," she whispers against his mouth.
"I love you too," he tells her. He feels her taking his hand, squeezing it.
"D-do you want to…" she trails off, hesitant.
"Yes," he breathes out. "Yes." Oh god yes, he wants to touch her. And now that it seems like she wants him to, he's going to. He lays her back down gently, crawling over her again and settling between her legs. He carefully slides his hands up her thighs, smiling as she releases a sigh. Her skin is so soft and so perfect and he leans down to brush his lips across the inside of her thigh as he reaches up, under her skirt, to pull her panties down.
It's awkward at first because he doesn't know what he's doing—not firsthand anyway. Watching porn is totally different from doing the stuff in it. But he realizes she's actually really wet and for—for him.
He wets his lips and brushes a finger across her center, smiling a little at the moan that leaves her lips and the way her hips arch up a little. And when he finally slips a finger inside her, all he can do is hope this is the right angle. But she's panting a little and he keeps hearing, "Finn," roll off her tongue, so he has to be doing something right, right?
When she tightens around his finger and moans out the his name, he watches her face as she rides it out. He's never seen her face look so—so flushed and beautiful and—he leans down and plants a kiss on her cheek. "W-was that okay?"
She nods and pulls on his hair to bring him closer and he wipes his finger on the towel before kissing her back, slow and hot. She nuzzles her face into his neck and he can feel her smiling and it's pretty much one of the best nights of his life. Especially when she forgets about her underwear as they pack up a while later and he drives to her house—which he totally gets to spend the night at today.
So he picks them up and pockets them. They're dark blue and have a little bow in the front and he's not sure whether or not he should give them back to her.
He'll think on it.
There are only two weeks of vacation left and he knows he's going to miss it sorely. Even if so far he's spent most of it working or hanging out with Rachel and his friends, without doing anything really solid or awesome, he just knows. He's gonna miss it a lot.
He likes being able to sleep in and not having homework and to be honest, he's freaking out a little now because this is it—their last year. And he's going to have to start applying to colleges and stuff and it's a freaky idea.
Right now they're in his basement—where it's nice and cool, and going through the crap that's down there. Some of it's going to Sam, some of it's going to goodwill, some of it is being kept and some of it is just trash.
They've been down here for about five hours now (and they only take a break to mack and stuff like once and hour, so shut up) and he finally thinks they're almost done. Picking up the box that's labeled to go to Sam, he carries it upstairs, setting it in the foyer before rejoining Rachel in the basement.
It's kind of weird how much stuff really down there. It's not like he's lived in this house for thatlong. But then again, some of it was just never unpacked anyway like it should have been. Which is probably his fault 'cause he hates unpacking more than he hates when Kurt comes home unexpectedly and totally cockblocks him. Not that he and Rachel have had sex yet—and he doesn't push it 'cause it doesn't matter than much and he's totally content with third base as it is anyway. He keeps most of his dad's stuff because he still can't bear to part with it, but he does send some of it to goodwill too. His mom is always telling him how he can't live in the past forever and stuff, and he gets it.
But she also says she knows he wants to keep certain memories and he does, so she lets him. Finally, he closes up the box labeled trash.
"Welp," he says, looking around. "Pretty sure that's everything."
Rachel looks at him like he has shredded cheese leaking from his eyeballs. "What?" he asks slowly.
She gives him that look again and places her hands on her hips. "What is it you just said?"
This time it's his turn to look at her funny. "I said I think that's everything…"
"No, before that.
"I didn't say anything before that." What is she even talking about? Like, he knows he isn't always the smartest dude, but for one thing, he likes to think he's come a long way. And for two, Rachel doesn't think he's stupid, so he's not entirely sure what is going on here.
"You just said…welp…"
Oh. That. "Yeah." He shoves his hands in his pockets 'cause he doesn't see the big deal.
"But you meant well," she insists.
"No. No I meant to say welp." He frowns. Is it really this big a deal? Shouldn't they be, like, moving the rest of the boxes or kissing or something instead?
"But it's not even a word!"
He shrugs. He saw it on some website when he was—uh, doing, you know, research for uh, stuff. And he still doesn't know where the word actually came from, but he'd seen it and kinda likes saying it. It almost feels more comfortable to say than "well," and it comes off as more nonchalant. And it's quirky enough for him to like—since he obviously has a thing for quirks. He eyes his girlfriend and she's going on about the impropriety of using a non-existent word that doesn't actually have a meaning and he's pretty sure she's just confused, and was caught off guard by his using it—and he knows she likes to know as much stuff as she can. So that's probably why she won't let it go. He starts laughing.
"What is so funny?" she demands, which just makes him laugh harder.
"Babe," he says. "It's just a word."
"It's nota word!"
He rolls his eyes. "It's just a made upword, then. Really, it isn't a big deal."
She sighs and sits down on one of the boxes of stuff that he's keeping, looking down at the floor. "I know. I'm just—" She shakes her head, as if to clear it.
"Just what?" he prompts, sitting next to her.
"I know graduation is a while away, but Finn, applying to college isn't—that's only in a few months and it's just really hard to believe and I've already started filling out my applications. I'm nervous," she admits.
He rubs soothing circles on her back as she leans against him and murmurs, his chin resting just above the top other head. "Trust me, I know you're stressed, but I wanna tell you something. I, uh…"
She lifts her head up, watching his face as he continues. "I don't know exactly what I want to do yet, like, in life and stuff, except that I want you. And I know we have some time to plan out the details and I have a lot of things I'll need to tell you eventually. But I just want you to know I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure you always feel loved and supported because, Rachel, I dolove and support you. No matter what. Even when it's hard to believe in anything else, I know I can always believe in you."
"Finn," she says quietly.
He shakes his head and takes her hand, stroking her knuckles with his thumb. "And I know getting there will be stressful and you'll rant at me for using non-words that you've never heard, but I'm ready for all that. This is gonna be our year, I can feel it. Everything that happened between us…I trust you, Rachel. I really do and you're the best thing that's happened to me. And I—I am so sorry for everything. For sleeping with Santana and lying about it and for not trying to do a better job of cleaning that mess up originally. For making you think I didn't love you or that I picked Quinn over you. For acting like the jealous boyfriend when I shouldn't have. And I'm glad we're me and you again, you know, but even as natural as it felt to just sort of fall back together again…I need to tell you how sorry I am for everything that led up to it. I am, Rachel. I'm sosorry." His breath hitches a little and she's staring at him with some emotion he can't or doesn't place at the moment.
"Finn," she says again, just above a whisper. She turns her face up to his. "I know. I know all of that and I trust you too. I think—I think we've both grown up a lot since we were apart. I love you. That hasn't changed except that somehow I've come to love you even more." She gives a little shrug and leans her head on his shoulder.
He should have known, he thinks, that she would get it. "I love you, too, Rachel. I mean, Ohio is a shitty state—we both know that. But you, you're—you're the best thing about here. And because of that, there will always be a part of me that loves Ohio. Because all parts of me will always love you." He knows he's being all cheesebucket and corny and shit and it's not even like it's that big of an occasion for them, but there are just so many feelings.
And she's really the only one who always encourages him to have them no matter what. And it makes sense because most of his feelings reside with, about, or for her. And when he's with her and around her and everything, he can't notfeel. It's just that now he's better at classifying his feelings.
They sit there like that, nestled against each other, for a while. Until he realizes he sucks majorly at packing shit away because something is pointing up through the top of the box and poking him in the ass. "Damn it," he mutters, pulling her up with him.
He's not sure what's in there and doesn't feel like looking, so he rubs mechanically at his ass where it hurts until he feels Rachel's hand there too.
He licks his lips and glances down at her.
She just smiles coyly and he's pretty sure the rest of the afternoon is gonna be epic.
He presses a kiss to her forehead and climbs into the bed with her. "How are you feelin' babe?" he asks. "Any better?"
She's been sick the last week and he's spent as much time taking care of her as he can. But thankfully today was his day off so he's been here since about ten this morning. He glances at the clock and it's a little past nine. He brushes her bangs away, leaning over her a little.
"Yeah." Her voice is still a little rough, but she does sound better. He knows she's bummed about not being able to sing, but she's handling it considerably better this time around. But since her throat's all messed up again, she'd went ahead and made the appointment to get her tonsils removed.
But he knows she figures it'll be early enough in the school year to not affect their competition and he knows she'll practice extra hard when her voice comes back again. That's just sorta how she is. "Do you need anything else?"
"Just you," she murmurs, snuggling into his chest and breathing deeply. He grins and wraps an arm around her.
There are four days until they go back all big, bad seniors or whatever, but it's been a great summer, just like he'd known it would be.
It's weird because when he first got back together with Quinn, he'd thought maybe this was what needed to be doing. He thought he was fixing himself, but really, he was just burying the parts of himself that he'd ever been proud of—the parts that hurt. But those are the parts that always come through when Rachel is involved because he just can't be anyone but who he is—who he wantsto be—with her.
And he doesn't think about it a lot because for one thing, he thinks he and Quinn are kinda friends again. They saw each other at Mercedes' party (which ended up being pretty boss, actually) and were totally civil. She didn't apologize, but he hadn't expected each other. They just kinda acted like it didn't happen—and it shouldn't have, truthfully—and she didn't say anything mean, so that was cool.
And two, he and Rachel have had those conversations and moved past it. Now is their time to focus on each other, so that's what they do.
He sits up a little, passing her a glass of water, which she sips at gratefully. They don't really talk and he's not worried about getting sick 'cause he'd been with her at the doctor's when the guy said it wasn't contagious. But honestly, even if it were, it wouldn't stop him from staying with her. So he just keeps playing with her hair because it's so soft and it feels so good slipping through his fingers and her face is buried in his neck.
He glances out the window, but it's still raining, and asks her if she wants him to put a movie on. But she shakes her head and tells him to stay over tonight. "A-are you—Is that a good idea? I mean your dads are…home."
He doesn't say that like he expects them to get sexy or anything tonight, but even just him staying over, wouldn't that freak her dads out? He's not opposed to the idea or anything, but he'd rather stay alive and stuff.
"Mmm, I talked to them earlier when you went to the store. They said it was okay, but that they would 'check in' on us periodically and randomly, though." She snorts a little, giggling, and he can feel the vibrations through his body because she's still leaning into his neck. He brushes his lips over her hair.
"Okay," he says. "That'd be awesome."
He rubs a hand up and down her arm until she's asleep, about an hour later, and he shifts a little so he can get more comfortable, careful not to wake her up.
"I love you," he whispers.
She stirs slightly and he thinks he hears a soft, "Mmm Finn," from her mouth, but he only smiles.
The night before they go back to school is when she goes down on him for the first time. He's got her shirt and bra off, and he's grinding against her when it happens.
She flips them over and before he can ask what she's doing, he stops having any kind of thoughts beyond oh God. Her mouth is all warm and wet and he's not sure how he fits all the way in her mouth, but he does because she's always swallowing and—"Fuck," he grounds out. Her eyes snap up to his, but she doesn't stop to scold him.
His fingers are tangled in her hair as he feels her tongue swirling around him and he reaches his peak. She sucks softly until he's finished and swallows, only wincing a little.
He's breathing really hard and he's pretty sure his heart is about to pound right out of his chest. "Rachel," he croaks. And he can't really manage anything else.
"It doesn't really taste that bad," she says, as if that's a normal thing to say and they're talking about what they ate for breakfast or something; he nearly chokes. "There's just a lot of it—I wasn't expecting that."
She climbs off of him and nuzzles her face against his cheek. Yeah, shewasn't expecting it. Okay.
When he finally catches his breath, he tells her, "You're amazing."
She smiles and rolls to brush her nipples over his chest one last time before putting her bra back on and pulling her shirt over her head. "Come on," she says.
He sits up, fixing his pants and reaching for his own shirt. "Where are we going?"
"Just come on."
He sighs dramatically and grins when she rolls her eyes, climbing off her bed.
It still amazes him how well their hands fit together. Like, his are just so huge¸ and hers are just so tinythat you wouldn't think they'd complement each other so well, but they do. He squeezes her hand gently as she leads him downstairs.
Quietly, she says, "I know today would have been your dad's birthday." His heart nearly stops. She remembers when he told her about that last summer? He'd sort of celebrated with his mom this morning; they'd brought the urn out.
Rachel starts pulling things from the pantry. "I thought…I thought maybe we could make a cake for him." She isn't looking at him, probably just in case he thinks it's a stupid idea.
But it's not. And he honestly wonders what it is he's done to deserve to have a girlfriend and a best friend who is so attentive and compassionate and as close to perfect as a person can get. He cradles her face in his hands and presses a kiss to her mouth, lingering for a moment. "That sounds perfect." He kisses her again.
"Yeah?"
"Definitely."
He's not actually coordinated in the kitchen, so he sticks to mixing the stuff she puts in the bowl 'cause he can't really mess that up. And he laughs because the only cake pan they can find is a one shaped like a heart for Valentine's Day, but it will have to do.
No one else would ever do, or even think of, something like this for him. And it's almost a little scary that there's a girl out there who loves him enough to remember all the stupid and random things he tells her. But it's scary in the good way—like the New York City way. Because it's just about everything—having so much invested in one person and having a person completely invested in you. And he knows New York is her dream and it's exhilarating to her, but he knows it's a little scary too because it could make or break her.
The same way love can make or break people. But the thing is, her love has already made him.
So much that no matter what happens, he can't completely break because that love is something he clings to all the time.
So even though when she writes on the cake, "Happy Birthday Christopher," and gets red frosting all over the counter and her face and she's embarrassed, he just tells her it's perfect. It's all perfect and she's perfect and the rest is secondary, especially when he can just lick the frosting off of her.
And she does let him, and it's almost intoxicating. Delicious icing and Rachel Berry on his tongue at the same time? He's almost surprise he hasn't come again yet—but he doesn't wanna think about that since his mailman issues are almost nonexistent or at least extremely rare now. It turns out Rachel actually loves being intimate with him, even if she's not ready to go all the way yet. But if course she likes it; she'd gone down on him like an hour ago.
But no, he hasn't forgotten that. He just can't think about it too much or else he'll want it again and he's pretty sure he still owes her an orgasm and it's his turn to make her come. He grins to himself; maybe he should go down on herthis time. He's been thinking about it a lot lately and while he hasn't brought it up, maybe it's time to.
He snaps a picture of the cake on his phone, just in case he ends up going home (not likely) and maybe he can show it to his mom or something. Either way, it's almost the best thing he's ever seen and he feels bad for even cutting into it, but he insists. And while Rachel may not be the best cook ever, she still is the champion of baking.
"This is delicious," says around a mouthful of crumbs.
She gives him that wide smile. "Yeah? I mean, I know I wouldn't know what your dad would have liked as far as cake goes—"
"He would have loved this." He takes another bite.
"He'd be so proud of you, Finn," she says after a while.
He swallows his milk, but doesn't say anything. She goes on, "I'm serious. You've come so far and you're a stunning young man now. It's obvious that I'm proud of you and your mom and friends and family are proud of you. But I hope you know your dad would be so proud of who you're becoming. Really."
He doesn't know what to say to that and so what if he's maybe got something in his eye. What are you gonna do about it? Nothing, exactly.
"Thank you." He says it quietly, but seriously, full of awe and thanks. Because sometimes he just needs to hear things like that, especially by someone he knows will always be honest with him—like he knows Rachel is.
So yeah, the start of senior year is tomorrow and then comes the start of the rest of their lives and all that stuff. But he's not too worried about it, if he's being completely honest. Because he knows they've gotten it right and now that they know how, they're just going to keep doing it.
Besides, he'd survived the summer and it had been awesome.
So he's totally open to the rest of his life being the same way—overall, at least.
He grins, takes another bite of cake, and kisses her hard on the mouth.
Suck it, Ohio. He's getting out of here soon enough and it'll be awesome and everything.
But until then, he's going to enjoy what he has.
And what he has is delicious sentimental birthday cake and Rachel.
It doesn't really get much better than that.
Welp, there you have it. what do you think? your comments and thoughts are really appreciated, so thanks in advance if you take the time to leave a review. :)
