A/N: I never planned on doing a sequel to this. It just sort of….happened. And now I think more might happen. I'm just ridiculous like that. This was inspired by Never Gonna Leave This Bed by Maroon 5. Also, I know most people don't text message like this, but I can't help it. I do. I even use punctuation, much to my friends' mocking. So forgive me for spelling everything out.


Never Leave This Place

Rachel slid down the door and sat in a girly puddle trying to reconcile everything that had just happened. Finn had asked to come over…she told him no…then he asked again and she agreed…five minutes and staying outside on the porch had taken a sudden turn.

That turn was the biggest thing that had ever happened to her.

He—Finn!—had made her talk it out. They had talked for a long time, they had kissed for longer, but nothing was resolved. They hadn't actually decided anything except for he had to go because his mom had called and asked where in the hell he was and demanded he come home immediately(per the grounding that had come attached to the mono).

When his mom had told him he needed to come home and rest, he had shot a dead-serious and worried glance toward Rachel. He reminded her he had mono and hadn't been told by a doctor he could kiss again without spreading his germs all over the place.

He told her that he remembered her slight cold a year ago all too well for him to possibly be okay with giving her mono. She sighed but didn't call him out on what he wasn't saying. She knew she was a huge baby when she was sick. He certainly wasn't going to want to take on Rachel with such a long-term illness. One month with sick-Rachel would feel like ten years to most people and she knew it; he had been kind not to actually say it.

She pulled her phone out of the hoodie she had secured before he had kissed her goodbye and left her knees totally weak. Thus, the sagging to the floor if one were keeping up. Once again, like so many things in her life, it was a boy's fault. Not just any boy, either.

Who could she tell about this or talk to about it? She kind of just wanted to squeal like a girl. The bad news was they had decided to keep it under wraps as far as the glee club went. Kurt, as a family member to Finn, was not a resource for either of them until they were ready for the information to be immediately disseminated.

That was a gross choice of words.

Anyway, that also meant that Mercedes was out. Jesse had sent her a couple of random texts (which she had deleted, by the way. And no, she didn't still have his number in her phone. He signed all of his texts 'JStJ – save this sig') but they certainly were not anything resembling friends. She had never even answered him back and had accidentally muttered a comment about the size of Jesse's balls at the dinner table after receiving one. Inevitably, when she thought about him, she thought about Shelby. There was just no way that could happen either, or even would happen if Rachel knew her number.

No, the only person she really knew outside of glee club was Blaine. He was the only person she could contact in case of this emergency. And while they hadn't been as close as she was getting with Kurt or Mercedes, he had this comfortable aura around him and wouldn't make her feel embarrassed or stupid for geeking out like the total girl and princess that she was.

Blaine it's Rachel. I think I'm dying. Can you talk?

Before she could even set her phone all the way down, it chimed. She picked it back up and flipped it open without even looking at who it was from.

Did I tell you I love you and you're amazing?

Her smile was quick, but not as quick as the rush of blood to her cheeks or the quick twinge from somewhere in her abdomen. She could feel the muscles tightening up and she knew she would probably be a little sore tomorrow.

Just the way I am? She responded by way of a tease. It had been a well-worn joke following his mother's wedding.

Her phone beeped again. Blaine: With Kurt. Text instead. I'm guessing you don't want him to know.

She sighed. Okay, well if Kurt and Blaine were out somewhere, Finn would probably just play some Madden or something for a while and go to bed. It was just as well. Even though it was Friday night, it was getting late and he was still recovering from his illness.

She fired off her quick reply to Blaine. Yea. Finn just left here. If she were in person, this would be the perfect place for a dramatic pause. Text was definitely not the best medium for her to express herself. We had sex. She bit her lip and hit the button. There was no way Kurt was going to escape Blaine's reaction. Finn was going to kill her. Then again, it was distinctly possible she was already dead or in the process of becoming dead.

Her phone beeped with Finn's reply, but it was still open so it popped right up on the screen. Yes. I miss you. You should come over.

She looked at the clock again. It was nearly ten. Her weekend curfew was technically one, but her dads weren't extremely strict about it. Although it would be abnormal for her to leave this late, it wasn't entirely unheard of.

I'm tired. And kinda sore. You're kinda grounded. I'm going to bed. You should too. She hit send and smiled. She wondered what in the world he was going to say to that. She wondered if he was going to turn totally lewd now that he'd gotten some. She frowned. Was she going to?

No sooner had she sent Finn's message than a new one from Blaine popped up.

Sorry, I think my phone is broken. What?

She barked out a laugh and then raised a hand to cover her mouth. By the time she had stifled her laugh successfully, there was another message from Blaine. Is this okay or are you freaking out?

She clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth. Of course she was freaking out—was he serious?

Yes. More than a little, she replied to Blaine. The phone beeped again as she snapped it closed. She pulled it open.

Finn: Come tuck me in.

Rachel shook her head and still couldn't fight the damn smile. She had smiled under direction before and knew it took a little while for her cheeks to start burning and for it to feel like her face was stuck that way, like she could be the Joker from Batman—just add heavy makeup. This was totally different. Her cheeks did hurt already, but she still couldn't stop smiling.

Blaine: Not an answer. Which one?

She replied to Blaine first, a quick "both". Her reply to Finn had to be a little more well-crafted. She had to take control of this conversation (first time she could think of when Finn had the upper hand with anything between them), lest it end with her in his bed—apparently. That would defeat the purpose of him going home; plus, he was still grounded (technically) so how would that work exactly anyway? She was pretty sure she could charm Carole into letting her stay, as long as she didn't let on anything about the kissing…or the making out…or the sex.

She and Finn had sex. They had sex. They had sex. She gasped and fired off another quick message to Blaine.

I'm definitely freaking out. What are the symptoms of a heart attack?

Blaine replied and she could almost hear the laughter in his response. Pretty sure it starts with hot sex.

She rolled her eyes. That was decidedly unhelpful. Twelve hours ago at school she had been heartbroken and alone and sad. This was all moving at the speed of light and as much as she loved it, she was starting to feel overwhelmed and like she needed to slam on the brakes. At the same time, she was desperately afraid this was her second (or maybe eighth, but who was counting?) chance with Finn and she didn't want to blow it completely. She needed some able relationship advice, but as she had already decided there were only so many places she could turn given the circumstances.

Then again, when she had relied on a source of outside comfort for anything it had directly been responsible for the entire demise of their relationship. She wanted to think, she knew, she had learned from that mistake and she wouldn't be making it again.

She toyed with her phone for a minute before she finally answered Finn. Ask your mom.

Her phone chimed as she banged her head against her door again before she realized something: she'd left cookie dough in the freezer the last time she made sugar cookies. Finn loved her sugar cookies. Maybe, if the Hudson-Hummel parents were okay with it, she could take the dough over and they could bake cookies and watch a movie. It was a low-key activity and didn't require kissing. She wasn't sure who she thought that would fool, but whatever. It was a thinly-veiled excuse, and she knew as long as she presented it that way, it would just be amusing instead of annoying. That was another line she was trying to learn how to walk. She felt like she'd maybe gotten better at it. After all…Finn had come back to her.

She had just resolved herself to do it when her phone chirped frantically.

Blaine: OMG, you didn't really die did you? She rolled her eyes. Some help he would've been even if she had! She tossed off a reply: Like you care.

Finn: You ask her. She likes you more.

Rachel chuckled. Her reply from Blaine came through and interrupted what she was typing to Finn.

Blaine: Finn says come over and he'll make it up to you.

She rolled her eyes again. Of course they were all hanging out. Finn was really going to kill her now. If Finn knew she was texting Blaine, Kurt did for sure.

Rachel rose, pulling herself up from the floor and looked down at herself. This would just have to be good enough. But then again, it had been good enough earlier and she hadn't even planned on seeing him. Going with the flow was a new thing for her, but maybe she could try it and it would kind of be okay.

Before she could really think any further than dialing, there was a ringtone in her ear.

"Hello?" Finn's low voice said, dragging the word out. She wondered if he might've already been partway asleep. He sounded tired.

"Hello," she said, unable to keep that smile from tugging at her cheeks again. She felt pathetic but it was too hard to beat herself up about it when her heart was soaring.

"So much for keeping a secret." He grumbled; it sounded like maybe he had a smile that matched hers. "When did you and Blaine get to be such good friends, anyway?"

"I had to talk to someone," she said simply. "Are you mad?"

"No," he said, but his tone indicated more would follow. "But what did you say? Because now I think there are two guys here picturing me naked. Seriously, they have porn in their eyes."

"First things first—is your mom home?" She asked. "I…" Her voice dropped a little as the sudden turns of the afternoon started catching up to her. While she and Finn hadn't been speaking, or much of anything, his family had moved into a new, bigger house. She hadn't been there, wasn't even entirely sure where it was other than it was somewhere in her own neighborhood instead of clear on the other side of the school boundaries. Whenever she and Kurt hung out, it was at her house or a coffee shop that was the midway point between McKinley and Dalton.

"I didn't know if you guys have a house phone," she admitted slowly. She hesitated to mention the last part.

"No, we don't," he said. She could hear rustling in the background that likely meant he was pushing himself up off the couch. "Have you been to my new house at all?" He couldn't remember seeing her there with Kurt, but Kurt hadn't been around much since Winter Break and he had been sleeping a lot even when Kurt was home. He could barely hear her answer because her voice was so small.

"No."

He almost had to pause on the stairs. They had wasted so much time—he had wasted it. Yes, she'd made him feel like total crap. Through it all, he felt justified with his huge step back, but even now just a few hours on the other side of fixing everything, all he could think was the time was wasted. They had missed Christmas… her birthday… Valentines' Day… and just so much of each other that it seemed kind of stupid now; now that he knew all he'd needed to do was face it instead of being a pansy. And sure, they had burned through all that energy in a way he hadn't seen coming at all, but once they had, they had talked through everything. And now he felt stupid for wasting time.

"Okay, well we should fix that," he offered gently. His mom was finishing up something in the kitchen and he briefly felt bad he wasn't there to do the dishes like he was supposed to. The kitchen cabinets were too tall for her to put everything away on most nights. He secretly kind of liked there was still something only he could do for her. It was easier to feel like he was still important as they were blending four individuals into a family.

"Okay," she said slowly.

"We should fix it a lot," he added, his voice still low and rough. It seemed like before he wasn't comfortable taking charge or saying what he really wanted to say. Maybe it was the feeling that he wasted time, maybe it was the feeling that trying to seem cool was the reason he had lost her for a while…but he was having a hard time keeping his mouth shut tonight and he thought maybe she liked it.

"I think the first step is asking permission," she said simply. He rolled his eyes as his mom turned around.

"Why are you still awake?" His mom asked, her tone gentle. He guessed, based on the fact this was the fourth person who said it, that he looked like crap.

"Rachel wanted to talk to you," he said, holding the phone out. His mom raised an eyebrow at him.

"Is there more than one Rachel?" She asked, her voice dripping with interest.

It was all he could do not to explain further. "No," he choked out. There wasn't more than one Rachel. There was only one. There was only one girl he wanted to be with. She was everything.

"Is that where you were, even though you're grounded?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.

He dropped the phone down to his side impatiently, burying the speaker against his leg so she hopefully couldn't hear.

"Maybe. Look, we…we're trying to work things out, Mom." He dropped his head. "And it sucks if she's there and I'm here and…Kurt and Blaine are downstairs so it's not like…"

"If you give another girl mono, I'm going to kick your ass," she said bluntly. She reached her hand out, palm up, for the phone. "But I'm glad you and Rachel are at least talking. You've been miserable, Finn."

"I know," he mumbled as he handed the phone over. He kept his head bowed but snuck cautious glances up to her as she chatted a little with Rachel. It had never bothered him that his mom and his girlfriend got along. After all, his mom was important to him and he never thought Rachel could be so just…sweet…to any sort of an authority figure. But she and his mom engaged in girl talk and had even gone shopping a couple of times. He could tell from the early tone of their conversation that his mom had missed Rachel as much as he had.

Well, almost.

Okay, yeah, not even close.

While he was busy thinking about all that, his mom had said whatever she had to say and hung up the phone. She looked at him expectantly. "Finn, I'm proud of you."

He was confused. "For what?" He reached out slowly to take his phone back from her.

"Sweetheart, I've never really given you a model for a healthy relationship until now. You're kind of flying blind with this whole thing. Admittedly, I don't know all the details and I don't want to, but I know you and Rachel have had a hard time because you're both still growing up. It takes a lot to swallow your pride and to work out hurt feelings with someone you love, but that's the kind of stuff that makes your relationship last." She put a hand on his arm. "Just two requests."

He was starting to get a little uncomfortable, the heat of it rising up into his cheeks a little and his eyes shifted off to the side. "Okay."

"Go slow. There are…certain things…that make your relationship too serious, too fast," she began. "So go slow. And do not, under any circumstances, give that girl mono. Do you hear me?"

"I think Rachel with mono would ruin my life," he agreed with a slight grin. He was kind of glad Rachel hadn't forced him to say it earlier because he was trying really hard to be nice, but she was a total pain in the ass when she was sick. If she was sick with something that lasted longer than, like, the weekend, it would really suck. And he knew how mono felt. He could only imagine how much Funny Girl was in his future if she ever felt this way.

Carole had heard all about Rachel's spell with tonsillitis from Finn the first time when he begged for ideas to help her with perspective—even then it had been totally clear that he was a perfect sort of guy to offset her drama-queen freak-outs. It had been Carole's suggestion to let Rachel meet Sean in the first place back then. This time, she laughed. Her son really did know this girl well; she could only hope things would go smoothly for them for a little while.

"Okay, well, she already said she has to be home by one anyway, so just don't fall asleep. Or have Kurt make sure she gets home."

He nodded and looked down at his phone with disappointment. It seemed stupid, considering she was obviously on her way over, but he had kind of wanted to say goodbye.

He wandered back downstairs, palming his phone into his pocket. Kurt and Blaine were watching some movie that he was pretty sure he didn't want to even fake an interest in watching, even if was for only about ten minutes until Rachel arrived. Thankfully, his phone rang from his pocket and it seemed to earn their attention, so maybe the movie wasn't very good.

"Hey, Rach," he said. He had never changed her ringtone; he knew it was her.

"Hey," she said. "I forgot to get your address."

"Oh," he said. He fought the urge to sigh. It was really weird to him that she didn't know anything about where he lived now, where he had lived for almost a full month. It made him a little sad. He talked quickly, keeping his voice low so he didn't interrupt the other boys too much. This time he at least got to say goodbye and it was sealed with the promise that she would see him in a matter of minutes.

The conversation had totally thrown him off his thoughts before and he forgot he wasn't actually interested. "What are you watching?"

Kurt gasped. "You've never seen French Kiss? Maybe we should start it over."

Finn scowled and shook his head. "I think I'm okay."

"No, this movie is so romantic-" Kurt started, only to be cut off by Blaine.

"—Falling in love through a chance encounter—"

"—Right up your alley, doing a classic sort of leave behind maneuver, but…wait, that would require you to plan something—" Kurt mused.

Finn watched them, his jaw going slack, and wondered if either one realized they were talking right over each other, never mind being aware of what they were saying.

"Wow," he said simply. "Come get me when Rachel gets here. I'll be in my room," he said simply, turning around to make a quick getaway. Could you catch crazy? Probably not or he would've already gotten it from Rachel.

As he walked into his room, he looked around. It was just another thing that he'd slacked off on while she was missing from his world: keeping his room clean. When there was the possibility of making out with her in his bed, he made sure the sheets stayed clean and the bed was made. He tried to make sure he didn't leave food or anything too nasty in his room so that it wouldn't smell like total garbage. His mom had even commented on how much she appreciated him keeping his football gear in the garage so it didn't stink up his whole closet. Then they had moved, Rachel was gone, and he had kind of returned to status quo. At least basketball was over so there wasn't any stinky sports stuff laying around.

…except for maybe him. He wrinkled his nose. She'd had sex with him and he smelled like this? He decided a quick shower might be a good idea.

It was the first time in like two months he sang while he was in the shower, and after rocking through some Def Leppard, he was unsurprised to hear Rachel's voice mixing with Kurt and Blaine's out in the common area of the basement. He had brought his clothes into the bathroom with him and dressed quickly, trying not to seem anxious even as his heart beat sped up just knowing she was near and finally, finally in his house.

As he tugged on the basketball shorts he had grabbed, he paused. He normally didn't wear underwear with his basketball clothes (and that was not public information, by the way) and so just out of habit he hadn't grabbed any before he came in. But, as with everything in the last hour, he was revisiting it now through the eyes of a boyfriend. What would she think if he wasn't wearing underwear? Because truly, the chances that she would notice were a lot more now than ever before. But maybe he was getting ahead of himself.

He felt a little stupid and goofy, but he didn't want to do anything that would mean it took him longer to see her. So as soon as he tugged the clean t-shirt over his head, he walked out into the main living area with his hair still wet and sticking up everywhere. He was actually still pulling it into place as he entered the living room and saw her face light up. Okay, that made him feel like maybe the coolest guy in the world. How could he have been such an idiot to put everything above that? It made him feel stronger, taller, and a little more comfortable in his own skin. She made him feel better.

She just made him better.

Rachel turned her head, hearing footsteps come down the hallway, and saw him still getting his shirt situated. She knew she would've felt embarrassed to watch him get dressed if he had come walking down the hall that way the last time they were together. This time, it felt a little wanton to watch the trail of hair that led away from his belly button disappear and to find herself wondering how long it would take her to uncover it again. Even as she smiled, she bit her lip. She was no good with restraint, she knew that, but she was going to try.

They had jumped into the deep end just a little bit too fast and, as much as she liked…swimming…she knew she needed to back off a little bit.

"Hey," he said slowly as he approached. He stopped at the back of the couch and bent down to kiss her forehead. "What took you so long?"

"Traffic," she joked lightly, prompting Kurt to roll his eyes.

"Can you two flirt somewhere else please? It's lame, it's awkward for the rest of us and my movie has been paused so long the DVD player shut off." He teased without any sort of annoyance to his voice. Blaine flipped a hand out to hit him in the stomach.

"There is nothing wrong with watching a mating ritual," Blaine said with a smirk. "It's just free entertainment; although maybe next time they'll bring popcorn."

Finn had already grown used to this from their presence, and for once it was kind of nice that it was directed to him as part of something else instead of just by himself. "Well, I'll definitely bring something I can throw at your face," he muttered.

Rachel stood up and held her hand out to Finn. "Well, I did bring something but it kind of requires you to come upstairs."

He took her hand willingly, but didn't let her lead him anywhere just yet. "I was kind of hoping to just lay low," he admitted as he rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand.

"Well, we can do that in a few minutes," she said slowly. "I know you've been missing what I brought."

Kurt's jaw flapped open and Blaine burst into a rather violent giggle as his face quickly turned purple.

"I kind of miss being an only child," Finn said, finally letting Rachel pull him away. He shook his head. "How's that working out for you these days?"

She smiled and moved closer to him, unable to help herself any longer. His arm went slack and she had barely moved, so he was effectively pulled in and she was already looking at his mouth when she spoke her next, whispery words. "Great. Especially when my dad has a big case in Nati starting next Wednesday so both my parents will be gone for at least a week. I'll have a big house all to myself." She was up on her toes and his eyebrows raised in interest as he bent down to meet her in the middle. There was all this space to close when they kissed and it sucked because all he really wanted to do was be there.

"Mono," Kurt said loudly, the word disguised poorly as a cough. Finn flipped him off and Rachel looked amused.

"See, I think being a big brother has worked out okay for you," she commented lightly, continuing to walk backward as he moved forward to stay close to her.

"It has its benefits," he admitted and he dropped his voice down as they walked up the stairs, letting her pull him as she continued to walk backward. She was much better suited for that than he was, as the more graceful member of the pair. He dropped his voice down as they walked up the stairs. In some ways, he was sick of all the talking they'd done tonight. In other ways, it had been a while since he'd actually had someone (okay, not just someone but her ) to talk about everything in his life with. He wanted her perspective, her comfort, and even some of those crazy ideas he always teased her about. He wanted all that back and it was like he couldn't even stop himself from just spitting out every thought he had when he was with her because he knew she was always listening for it. He could just be himself.

"I just wish I had realized it soon enough to stop him from transferring schools," he admitted.

She stopped walking and moved her hands up to his shoulders, their height difference changed drastically by their uneven footing on the stairs.

"Well…" she said slowly. "It seems like maybe Dalton is working out better for him."

He let out a deep breath. "Maybe."

"Finn," she said, her voice stopping suddenly. She looked away before she took a deep breath and then looked directly at his face, her liquid brown eyes certain and her voice reinforcing itself before she started again. "There is no point in beating yourself up for the past anymore. You let him down. But all you can do now is move forward. And if you're sure that's what you want, then stop looking backward."

"Are you gonna take your own advice?" He asked, not backing down as he looked at her. He saw her try not to flinch.

She nodded slowly. "I'm all done looking back," she confirmed. "I had a lesson to learn and I did it the hard way."

"You usually do," he said.

"I can't promise I won't keep making things hard."

"I know," he sighed.

"I'll try not to," she breathed. Her voice was starting to shake a little.

"I know," he said, finally giving her a kiss that was more like a habit than something he had to think about. He ran his hands over her hair and caught her cheeks between his hands. "Just…please don't try to make me jealous anymore, okay?" He was holding her firmly and she could barely nod. He gave her another small kiss and released her, then looked around and realized exactly where they were standing. "I'm not sure the middle of our stairs is the best place for this."

She laughed. "Come on. I promised you a surprise," she said as she reclaimed his hand. This time she turned around and jogged up the last few stairs with a new energy and he remembered again that he was totally tired.

He tried really hard not to look confused when she handed him a cold, kind of heavy Tupperware container. He flipped it to the side to look through the white plastic and see what might be inside, but the lump was unidentifiable. "Umm…thanks?"

"Well, I made my dads cookies for Valentine's Day, and realized that I doubled the batch on accident because I was used to baking for you," she admitted without looking at him. "So that's the dough I put in the freezer. I thought I would make your Valentine for you now if you wanted it."

"Awesome," was all he said in quiet reply. She seemed a little encouraged when he didn't say anything else, and he stopped there instead of saying all the words that were in his head because it had been a while since he encouraged her and saw that particular smile that he loved. He didn't want to wreck it, and he thought maybe it was true that they had both learned something.

She had apparently chatted with his mom a little bit about this and his mom had set out all the stuff they needed—the rolling pin, some waxed paper, cookie sheets. Rachel struggled for a second to turn on the fancy new stove Burt had installed right before they moved, but she figured it out and directed him to roll out the dough as she produced three different sizes of cookie cutters from a small reusable grocery bag she had obviously brought along.

She needed his help grabbing a bowl from the top of a cupboard and then gave him instructions on how to cut out the shapes from the dough he'd rolled while she started mixing frosting. He teased her when he realized the cookie cutters were star shaped instead of hearts; he learned that Rachel Berry Valentine's cookies weren't heart-shaped.

Somehow, though, that was the shape she took in his life and, even as he had been way more open and just blurted out a lot of the stuff he'd been thinking, he didn't tell her that one.

For the first time, he realized how much work Rachel had actually put into baking for him over the months they were dating last time. He had never thought about it before until he watched her in action, and he thought maybe she was even more amazing. Carole and Burt were in and out of the kitchen and Finn thought he saw Rachel bite back tears as his mom hugged her tight and welcomed her back.

He managed to get the tears out of her eyes by dotting the frosting she'd made on her nose. Carole came out, taking Rachel up on her offer of some frosted cookies right before the parents of the house headed to bed for the night, and threatened him within an inch of his life if he kissed or licked the frosting off her face in any sort of a way that would swap his 'contaminated spit'. Both he and Rachel were grossed out enough at the way she said it that they opted for a warm washcloth instead.

It was nearly eleven-thirty by the time they headed downstairs with two huge plates of cookies. Kurt and Blaine were like half aware of their surroundings, both tied up in the movie they were watching and partway asleep, but mumbled their thanks before Finn offered to introduce Rachel to the rest of the house (meaning his bedroom, because that and the bathroom were the last places she hadn't seen).

As she looked around the room, she smiled a little.

"It looks exactly the same, somehow."

He raised his eyebrows. "Well, I would hope not. The bed is twice the size," he said easily. "Come to think of it, so is the television." He looked around a little. "And the whole room."

She laughed as she took the plate of cookies from him and set it on his desk.

"How do you like having more space?" She asked, leaning back against the wooden chair that sat on his desk.

He heard a lot of different things in her words, things he couldn't explain, and when she looked up at him, he saw those same things in her eyes. This was all changing so fast it was catching up to them both. He wasn't sure how to slow it down.

And neither was she, because as she looked at him across the room, unable to keep all her doubt and uncertainty that this was right out of her eyes, it still felt like combustion. For as careful as they had been before (or really, as careful as she had demanded they be), she now knew why. They were playing with fire, but she just wanted to keep playing.

They watched each other for a minute, no words leaving their lips but a whole conversation still passing between them, thickening and charging the air around them. Rachel reached behind her blindly to flip on the radio without paying attention to what she even turned on. All she knew was they would need something to cover it when all those words finally came out.

He moved a lot slower this time than he had this afternoon, and she waited for him to come to her. The room being bigger didn't matter right now; he crossed in three strides to her and didn't move his eyes from her face as he dragged his fingertips up her arms and then let them brush over her shoulders and chest, finally stopping on the zipper before he pinched his fingers together to grab on and drag it down the front of her body. She watched him, felt her breathing catch like the zipper did about halfway down. He brought his other hand up, placing it on her flat stomach to hold the fabric in place so he could finish unzipping the jacket.

Everything about their earlier exchange had been fast and reckless. This time, it was on purpose. She leaned back a little on the chair, raising her leg up to prop it against the seat. Her grip on it tightened as he slid the loose jacket over her bare shoulders. His eyes dropped for the first time as he slid the warm cotton away from her. She kept watching him as she moved her hands to lean forward so the jacket could fall. His fingers ran up over her shoulders, tracing idly at the spaghetti straps of her camisole tank top before he let them brush over her chest, over the crinkled cotton fabric he was still watching her even as he moved in slowly, painfully slowly, to kiss her before he twisted the fabric into his fist to pull her closer.

She folded easily against him, her fingers instantly lingering at his waist, tickling at his stomach and the hair-roughened patch of skin she had watched disappear earlier while he was walking down the hall toward her. She felt his muscles tighten under her fingers, the warmth of him spreading through her fingers and all the way up into their kiss, where their tongues were gliding along each other with a practiced dance.

His hand hooked around to her hip and he dug his fingers into her skin a little as he pried her away from the chair and helped her stumble over toward his bed. The queen-sized bed was tall enough she had to climb a little bit to get onto the mattress, but she managed to do it without breaking their kiss. He couldn't help it, he moaned as he pulled away enough for one deep, raspy breath, and in the same moment he peeled the shirt away from her body, leaving her topless on his bed. Her eyes were watching him, wide and curious, but taking it all in. Everything had happened so fast this afternoon that she was soaking in this time with all of its slower pacing. As she lowered her arms from where she'd raised them to help him out, she wrapped the hemline of his t-shirt up in her fingers, pushing it up and dragging her fingers right behind it. He let out a gasping breath, the simple contact leaving tingly fingers of fire across his stomach, only to be slightly quenched and then ignite again when she leaned forward to press her tongue right behind her fingers.

Her hands continued moving up as she kissed at him. There had been a time when he felt self-conscious about being exposed, but when she was licking at him like that it was impossible to be aware of anything but how her tongue felt against his skin. He took a step toward her and it gave her the confidence to do the next thing she had in mind. He finished pulling his shirt off, all but ripping the fabric out of her fingers when it was obvious she couldn't reach any higher. All he could do was watch as she moved her hands to the waistband of his shorts and tugged them down, following that motion by sliding off the bed and onto her knees even as her tongue darted out. His eyes widened and he wasn't sure if it was in surprise or because he wanted to commit every second of this to his memory.

That thought was gone, along with everything else, as he felt her tongue brush against his erection. His mouth fell open and his eyes closed and a slightly choked sound escaped his mouth as his heart pressed against his chest, its throbbing beats matching the pull of his hips. He focused on holding them still as much as possible.

She vaguely remembered the guidance counselor telling her not having a gag reflex would be a gift when she grew up; when she thought about it in this context, she totally understood why. She let her eyes open and drift up Finn's tall body. She couldn't see his face from where she had sunk in front of him, but if the noises he was making were anything to go off of, she had time to test the guidance counselor's theory. She was surprised that she actually wanted to in this moment.

His hands brushed over her hair, moving frantically as her tongue took a full tour of the new territory. She listened to his gasped sounds, noted what made his hips jerk free of his control, and as she opened her mouth to take him in entirely, she was surprised to feel his muscles pulsing against her lips when he moved in earnest against her mouth. She slid her hands over his thighs and around to goose him, her hands pressing into his skin and encouraging him to let his body move. She was aware of his head swinging around and dropping to watch her, but she closed her eyes and let his firm strokes against her wet lips set the rhythm.

Finally, he pulled away entirely, actually taking a step back and gasping as he brought his eyes open.

"Did I…did I do something wrong?" She asked, her voice unsteady as she watched him. She could see his pectoral muscle thumping, pounding.

"No," he said simply. "God, no." She raised her eyebrows and watched him expectantly, waiting for an explanation. Instead, he stooped down to pull her up. "You're amazing," he said simply, still swallowing and gasping for words. "I just….I…." he shook his head, knowing he was never going to get any actual words out, so he pressed his mouth to hers, crushing her body to his and kissing her deeply. He wondered for a second if his tongue could sink as far into her mouth as she had just taken him in, but he couldn't press her to him and unbutton her jeans at the same time. He set her carefully on the bed and stripped off her remaining clothing, taking the time this go-round to drop his mouth to her legs and follow the waistband of her pants all the way down. As he kissed back up, he felt her legs relax as he kissed at the back of her knees.

Really? That was hot? He let his tongue out of his mouth to follow the crease at the back and she groaned. He smiled. Man, he thought he'd enjoyed that little hopeful smile she had earlier? This was at least a thousand times better plus he felt his erection surge a little bit with that kind of a reaction.

She reached backwards, fumbling around the soft comforter, flailing a little bit and grunting out her frustration.

He leaned forward to prop himself up over her body, taking all the strength he had left not to collapse as he felt her bare legs sliding around his and the bottom of her feet at the curve of his butt. "What do you need?" He asked. He didn't even recognize his own voice, it was so charged with want. He could barely choke the words out.

"Condom," she said simply.

He couldn't deny he wanted that too. But as he looked at her, he kind of wondered if he could earn that moan again like when he'd kissed behind her knees. He sat back enough he could slip a hand down in between them. He had tried going down on her before, and as fun as that was, he wanted to watch her face. This was the best way he could think of to do that. They had plenty of time for all the other stuff.

He was surprised as he swiped his finger through the folds of her sex at how wet and silky the skin was. Her mouth came open but she didn't make any noise. He took another pass and felt her knees relax even more.

Damn.

He looked down, the visual of her spread open for him almost too much. He retracted his hand from her long enough to wrap it around the base of his erection and squeeze tight until he could actually breathe a little bit. He remembered vaguely that he had felt exhausted before she got here, but now he wasn't sure he'd ever felt more alive, more on fire.

He brushed his finger back over her again, noticing the way her hips jerked up when he hit just the right spot. He settled his thumb onto that spot and moved it around, sliding over the superheated skin easily as she let out a high-pitched gasp.

This was why they should go slow. He didn't know what to do here. He needed her to tell him, but he wasn't sure she would or she could.

"Rach…" he said, keeping his voice soft so it would hide under the cover of walls and music, even if someone were outside. "Show me what to do."

"What?" She asked breathlessly.

"Is this how you touch yourself?" He asked. Blood rushed, throbbed through his ears and he could barely hear himself talk. She nodded, her cheeks flushing a little more deeply than they had.

"I've never…not…show me what you do," he managed, reaching up to take her hand.

She was so exposed, so on fire and needing release, it didn't occur to her to be embarrassed as she let him guide her hand. She didn't use words, knew she couldn't because her breathing was too erratic as she pressed her fingers into her own flesh, his brushing over hers as she set a rhythm of circles.

He watched her move both their hands expertly over her own body and he couldn't deny the way it tugged on his hips, made his body hum and want to be buried inside her again. He closed his eyes, desperately fighting the war of wanting to watch but being unsure he could stand it much longer. She finally grabbed his hand and pressed it back into her, but she had given him what he asked for and as he plunged two fingers inside her, he let his thumb move the way she had showed him. He had to pull back a little so he could place a hand flat on her stomach to hold her still as she pulled tight peaks of blanket into each hand.

"Finn…" she gasped out. She was like a cheerleader, driving him on. He smiled and looked up at her, hair spread out all over his blanket and her eyes closed with long eyelashes against pink cheeks. Her lips were swollen and deep red from their long, slow kisses, and her face was crumpled into concentration as her head moved back and forth. His motion grew more insistent and, when her eyes flew open he couldn't look away. She pressed against his hand and drove his fingers into her body as far as they would go as she breathed out one short pant followed by an almost helpless squeak. He could feel her muscles latching onto him, the warmth flooding over his fingers as the silk turned to wet fire that threatened to engulf him whole. He could already feel pride taking over and he pushed it back down, almost relieved she trusted him enough to let him see her like this, staring into her eyes as she came undone and a hundred thousand things flickered over her face.

When she relaxed a little and he pulled away, it occurred to him he hadn't earned the moan he was aiming for again. He fought the smile that threatened and made it a goal for next time. He leaned over her, reaching at the nightstand and finally coming up with a condom from the drawer he didn't bother closing.

She took the package from his hand, not watching as she opened the wrapper and took it out. She finally tore her eyes away from his long enough to watch what she was doing as she sheathed him entirely, rolling the condom down over his painfully hard erection with ease.

He brought his hand up to her face, brushing the bangs away from her face and then leaning forward in a sort of pushup to give her a tender kiss. He finally dropped his body on top of hers, going slow and easy, letting his kiss warm her up all over again even though she didn't really need it. They kissed with building intensity until she put her hand on his face.

"I love you," she whispered. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders as she moved her legs and dropped a hand down to position him at her entrance.

"I love you more," he breathed as he sank into her. She was still so tight, fitting around him like a velvet glove, but there was no hesitation and no resistance this time. And as she moaned, a little more what he had been going for previously, he knew she was fine. There was no pain and he didn't have to worry. They could go slow and really make love.

She watched his eyes dancing over her face and knew this is what she wanted. Sex was good and all, but she wanted the whole thing—the sweetness, the tenderness, and him. Just him.

He moved slowly, feeling her wiggle a little underneath him until they settled into a give-and-take with slow, long strokes. He pressed his forehead to hers, rubbing his nose against her a little bit. By the time she slid her tongue over his bottom lip, he had started to shake a little bit. By the time she sucked his bottom lip into her mouth, he could feel the continuing grip from the aftershocks of her own orgasm.

By the time she ran her fingers over his hairline and her eyes opened again, the fire that had built slowly inside him exploded and he grunted as he pressed his lips against her, helpless to stop it from being over. Even as he knew it was (at least for this minute), he just wanted it to last forever.

There was no urgency this time as they dressed. He helped her pull her clothes on, which felt a little backwards and made him laugh as he tugged the zipper on her sweatshirt all the way up to the top. Once she was settled, he pulled on his shorts and then poked a head out into the hall to make sure no one was coming before he stepped across to the bathroom to dispose of the condom.

She was reclined on his bed when he returned, her eyes sleepily coming open and her lips spreading into a soft smile as he settled in right next to her and then pulled the blanket up over them both. She settled into his body, pressing her back tightly into his chest even as he bent his legs to form them to the back of hers. He wanted to touch as much of her as he could.

"I'm never going to walk away again," he said. He kissed her hair and felt her fingers lace through his. "Just so you know."

"Well, just so you know, I might never leave this bed," she admitted and she took a deep, contented breath.

"I might never let you," Finn retorted. "I'm not a total idiot."

She gave a half-asleep chuckle and he sighed. He didn't ever want to leave this bed again, either.

Later that night, laying in her own bed, she was three-quarters of the way toward an exhausted, pleasant dream when her phone buzzed from the nightstand.

"Hello?" She answered eventually, not even really moving from underneath the covers or bothering to open her eyes.

"Did I forget to tell you I love you?" He mumbled. "Because I really, really love you."

"I love you too."

"I wish you were here," he breathed. He was most of the way asleep, she could tell just by the stretch of his words. She didn't hang up, but she didn't answer either; it was the closest they could come to sleeping next to each other, and neither one of them would be able to say who hung up first that night, but they always swore it was the other one.