A Tempo
Chapter Eight: Like Monkeys
*Citrus Alert*
Rachel awoke with a start and took a moment to assimilate herself to her surroundings. This was not her room, this was not her bed, that was not her nightstand, and she had no clue whose body was pushed up against her back. She squeezed her eyes shut in a panic and tried to remember the night before.
She remembered meeting everyone at the bar. She remembered singing "Mamma Mia" with Kurt. She remembered Finn scaring off the stock brokers. She remembered drinking a lot of Crown and Cokes… and from there it started to go fuzzy. Little snippets flashed through her mind – did she stick her head into a trashcan and vomit last night? And had she been floating? No… Finn had been carrying her. Oh no, had she thrown up on him?
Her eyes flew open. Oh. God. Had she slept with Finn?
She looked down and was relieved to see that she was clothed in a t-shirt. And she didn't feel like she had had sex, but she was sure she was sure she was in Finn's bed. Was that him behind her? She wiggled slightly to get a better feel of who was next to her. That certainly didn't feel like Finn. Slowly, she turned around to see who exactly she was sleeping with – or next to, as the case may be.
She was relieved to see it was just Tank stretched out along her side, his head resting on the pillow next to hers. He turned his head with a groan when she moved, his tail thumping twice against her leg before heaving a deep sigh and going back to sleep.
Okay, that mystery solved. But where was said canine's master? She glanced at the clock on the night stand next to her; it was just past eight, perhaps he had left for work. She sat up and fought off a quick wave of dizziness. Her head was pounding and her mouth felt like it was lined with cotton. Ugh, she was never drinking again!
She stood up and slowly shuffled to Finn's bathroom, picking up her clothes from the night before on the way and dropping them next to her purse in a chair in the corner. She flipped on the light and nearly screeched when she saw herself in the mirror. She looked horrific! Her hair was tangled every which way and her makeup was smudged all over her face.
Fortunately she carried a hairbrush in her purse, but she hoped Finn had some sort of face wash that she could use. She found some in his shower and took a few minutes to scrub off the remainder of her eye shadow, gargle some mouthwash, and detangle her hair. So much for looking like a sultry temptress, she thought, she couldn't even get an inebriated Finn into bed with her. Just his dog. His neutered dog for that matter.
She made her way back into the bedroom and through the French doors that led out to his living area. She had been to his apartment once a few weeks ago with the boys and was surprised to see that it was actually very neat and put together. Apparently Kurt had helped him decorate in a tasteful, yet masculine, style and the effect was strangely comforting. Everything he owned was big, from his overstuffed chairs, to his TV, to his king sized bed. It was all very Finn.
She retrieved a bottled water from his refrigerator and chugged it down greedily as she looked out the window. It was gray and overcast outside and she vaguely recalled the weatherman saying that they should be expecting scattered showers throughout the next few days. She hoped the weather wasn't hitting Nantucket so that the Michael and Andrew could enjoy themselves.
She sighed resolutely and ditched her bottle into the recycling bin. So much for living life to the fullest until the boys got back. Really, what was the point if you couldn't even remember your actions the next day? She could only pray that she didn't make too big a fool of herself and that Finn would want to see her again. She would give him a call later on this afternoon to see if he wanted to do din– she stopped halfway to his bedroom, her eyes falling on the futon in the alcove that he had designated as his home office.
Finn was stretched out on his back, a leg hanging off the side of the mattress, with an arm thrown over his eyes. Wow, either he was the most chivalrous drunk in the history of the universe or he no longer found her to be sexually appealing in the least. Seeing as how that apparently wasn't his sentiment on Sunday, she could only assume that she had indeed thrown up on him.
Rachel's heart was pounding in her ears as she crept up to the sleeping man, a feeling of anticipation in her stomach. She thought about just cutting her losses and leaving, perhaps saving this for another day, but she knew all too well that she may never get another chance to be with him this way. She had already admitted to herself that she still had feelings for him, and this was her chance to see if those feelings were reciprocated. She was tired of running.
She sat down on the edge of the futon and he moved slightly, shifting over unconsciously. His arm fell to his side and she had to smile. He still looked so much like a little boy as he slept and not at all like a man nearing thirty. Albeit a boy with stubble on his jaw, but a little boy nonetheless. She reached out and ran a hand through his hair, trailing it down to his cheek. He moved his face into her hand, a small smile playing at his lips, and she leaned down to kiss him.
He didn't react at first, so she applied a little more pressure with her mouth, opening it lightly to his. She could tell when conscious thought struck him, and his arms banded around her waist and pulled her down flush against his chest. He tangled a hand in her hair and deepened the kiss, their tongues meeting in an intimate dance.
"Rachel," he whispered against her mouth. "Rachel, Rachel."
She pulled back and smiled down into his face. "Good morning," she murmured, placing a kiss on his chin.
"I'm not dreaming?"
"I hope not."
"Good," he groaned, his lips crashing against hers frantically, his hands sliding under her shirt and burning a trail up the smooth skin of her back with his palms. Without breaking contact, Rachel climbed onto the futon, her legs tangling with his. She placed kisses down his neck and nipping lightly at his collar bone. She heard him hiss above her and she positioned herself over him, straddling him with her legs.
But as quickly and violently as they had started, she felt Finn tense under her and place his hands on her shoulders. "Rach, we can't –"
She pushed herself up on her elbows and looked down at him in shock. "What?" she gasped. She felt the color rise in her cheeks and she tried to extricate herself from him, but he stilled her with his hands on her hips.
"Not that we can't," he hurried to clarify. "It's just that… you need to be sure. I don't think I can handle you running out on me again."
She nodded. He was right, but she had already thought this over. This was what she wanted. He was what she wanted. She'd given up too much of herself this past year to let this opportunity slide through her fingers.
She didn't respond right away, she just sat up on her knees and met his eye as she lowered her hands to the hem of her shirt. She noted triumphantly how his eyes dilated and without a second thought, she whipped the t-shirt up over her head and dropped it to the floor.
She leaned over him, letting her hair curtain his face and paused just short of kissing him. They made eye contact, unspoken questions asked and answered in one poignant gaze, and he smiled up at her certainly. He sat up, pushing her with him, her naked chest against his before finally pulling her face down to his. This time when he kissed her, there was no urgency, just a lingering sweetness that almost brought tears to her eyes and she let him take control.
His mouth moved from her parted lips to her jaw. He nuzzled from the sensitive area below her ear to her neck where her pulse was beating erratically. He brushed his lips here, not kissing, but to and fro, his warm breath tickling her skin. He skimmed her skin, the tip of his nose trailing downwards until he reached her collarbone. He kissed her then, in the shallow hollow, and teased her with his tongue.
She gave a low moan and tangled her shaking fingers in his hair. She arched her back impatiently, torn between pleasure and pain. "Please…"
Finn sighed and turned his fevered eyes up to hers. "I've been dreaming about this for a long time, Rach," he murmured. "I plan on taking my time…" he kissed her mouth again, "…and being as thorough…" he dropped a kiss on her neck, "…as possible."
Rachel felt her pulse surge. How was it that he was making her come completely undone already and he was still able to think clearly and use decidedly un-Finn-like words like "thorough"? Wasn't she the one who had instigated this? She wasn't even sure now and had to bite back a cry of delight when he lowered his head to her breast and began teasing her mercilessly with his tongue and teeth. All lucid thought escaped her and she buried her hands almost roughly in his hair.
She rocked her hips against his, reveling in his low moan of pleasure. He shifted slightly under her and she gasped upon feeling the evidence of his arousal pushing against her through her panties. Smiling against her skin, he trailed his lips along her chest and paid homage to her other breast, whispering endearments she couldn't quite make out in her current state.
He tightened his arms around her waist and, pulling her more firmly against him, he turned to reposition them so that he was on top of her. Suddenly realization struck Rachel hard and she felt herself panic when his hands traced lightly over her breasts and down her sides, lingering at her underwear. This was what she wanted, she told herself. It was her and Finn and everything that she loved right there in her arms.
"Finn," she said, causing his head to snap up from where he had been nuzzling her stomach.
He sighed and met her eye warily. "Is everything alright, Rach? I've got condoms in the –"
"No," she interrupted. "No, it's not that. I mean, I'm on the Pill. It's just that it's… it's been a while for me a-and I just thought you should know."
He grinned and moved back up her body to place a chaste kiss on her lips. "That's okay," he murmured. "We can take it slow."
And then he started the sweetest torture that Rachel could ever imagine. He licked, kissed, and nipped her everywhere she could think of and then some. If she wasn't thoroughly buzzing before, she was now. He took extra time to tease her, running his hands along her thighs but not removing her undergarment, just stopping to kiss her through the thin cotton before continuing his descent. She hadn't known that her instep was so sensitive or thought of how delightful it would feel to have someone's teeth lightly graze her Achilles tendon.
Good. God. When they were teenagers it had been about the hasty exploration of each other; all about the destination and not the ride. This was a whole different ballgame. This was about the build-up, the mind numbing pleasure, this was Finn knowing what he was doing and using it all to his advantage. By the time he had removed her panties, she was so far gone, sobbing his name to the ceiling and grabbing at his back and hair and anywhere else she could reach.
When he finally lowered his mouth to her, fingers parting and playing along her oversensitive flesh, she fairly screamed and felt herself come unraveled almost immediately. She let herself ride the wave, closing her eyes tightly against the emotions running through her. She slowly coasted down, trembling with the force of her orgasm, and tried to remind herself to breathe. She opened her eyes to see Finn smiling down at her self-assuredly and she couldn't help the laughter that bubbled out of her.
"See, just like riding a bike," he commented, wincing as she ran her hands down his back.
"Are you alright?" she asked, immediately feeling like an idiot. Of course he wasn't alright; she could feel him still stiff as a board through his boxers.
But he just shrugged and kissed her lightly on the forehead. "Someone just clawed up my back. But I'll be fine."
"Oh no!" she gasped. "Finn, I'm so sor–"
He silenced her with his mouth. "It was worth it. Rachel, you are so beautiful when you let go like that. I wish you could see it just once."
Rachel was sure her face was already flushed, but she could feel her cheeks burning all the same. "Is there something I can do to make the pain go away?" she asked impishly, sliding her hands down his abdomen and pulling at the elastic of his boxers.
"I can think of a thing or two," he growled. Not waiting for her, he rolled onto his back and hurriedly removed the last article of clothing separating them before resting himself back between her legs. She shifted in order to grant him better access and sighed when she felt him push against her.
"Rachel, I –" Whatever he was about to say was lost as he slowly began to enter her, inch upon inch of pleasure, and she nearly cried out for him to just hurry up already. When he was fully seated within her, he dropped his head to the crook of her shoulder and slowly let out his breath as if he had been holding it. She moved against him impatiently but he stilled her with a hand to her hip. "Just a sec," he commanded gently.
She tried to keep herself from wiggling, but she could already feel that divine pressure building up within her again. "Is-is it the mailman?" she finally asked.
"What?" he mumbled, looking into her face. Then he chuckled and shook his head. "No, I haven't thought of him in years. I was – it's just – it's the same, Rachel."
She didn't understand his meaning, and all coherent thought escaped her when he moved his hips. "Nothing's changed," he murmured against her neck.
Nothing else was said between them – nothing intelligible at least – and he began to move slowly within her. She wrapped her legs around the back of his thighs and pulled herself up to meet him thrust for thrust. She threw her head back, her mouth open in a silent scream as he quickened the pace, reaching higher and filling her completely.
They moved on instinct now. Their groans and cries filled the silent apartment, their lips crushed against each other, and her hands drew down his back as his hard body guided them to completion.
When the tumult came, Rachel wrapped her arms tightly around him, trying to be as close to him as possible, and called his name. She blinked furiously, trying to keep her eyes on him, but soon she was only seeing stars. She felt Finn stiffen above her and groan loudly before falling slack against her, breathing heavily.
They stayed like that for a moment, riding out the aftershocks of their climax together. Then he fell to his side and pulled her with him. He showered kisses along her jaw, on her forehead, and down her nose before coming to a rest on her lips. She lifted her face to him and deepened the kiss, sighing in contentment. She, Rachel Barbra Berry – er, Kutner – still had it.
He broke the kiss and wrapped her tightly in his embrace, tucking her head under his chin. She could feel his heart still pounding quickly in his chest. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she closed her eyes, not exactly tired, but exhausted still the same, and mulled over what had just transpired between them.
There was one side effect that she hadn't bothered thinking about when she initially decided she was going to go to bed with Finn. She knew she still had feelings for him, but until this moment she hadn't allowed herself to think of the extent. Perhaps it was just the incredible sex toying with her mind, but Rachel knew the truth. She had known love with two men in her life, one of them being the very same man holding her now. She knew what it felt like to love Finn Hudson and it was the exact same feeling coursing through her now. Except maybe now it was amplified.
There was no use fighting it. She was in love with him. She'd known it the day she met him at the park and she knew it was what she had been fighting this entire time. Had she ever stopped loving him? Probably not. Maybe that's why it was easier to forget her life before David; if she allowed herself to remember what she had wanted before, she never would have been able to let him go. She fully believed it was possible to love two people at the same time, and she wondered if she had loved Finn the entire time she was with her husband.
She sighed and kissed his collar bone. It didn't matter now. What mattered was this moment, this day, and to hell with tomorrow. She wasn't foolish enough to believe that once the boys got back from their vacation things could stay this way. She would continue with her plan to spend the rest of the week and weekend with him and then she would let the natural order of things take over.
"Rach?" she heard him ask huskily and her heart skipped a beat.
"Mhm?"
"Can we move to the bedroom? This futon is really killing by back."
Finn whistled cheerfully despite his killer hangover and let himself back into his apartment. He leaned down and let Tank off of his leash and threw the bag of bagels he was carrying onto the wet bar. He made his way into the kitchen and took the plastic bag where he kept Tank's rawhide bones out of the pantry. He handed one down to the anxious dog before returning to his bedroom and firmly shutting the doors behind him.
Tank, not used to having company, really hadn't liked being kicked out of the bedroom when he and Rachel had moved from his study, and Finn hoped that would pacify him at least for a little while. He took a moment to smile fondly at the petite woman curled up in the middle of his bed. Sparing a moment to throw off his shirt and drop his pants, he crawled back in behind her and pulled her into his arms. He buried his face into her hair and his eyes almost rolled back in his head as her scent assaulted his senses.
God he'd missed her.
He had never expected for Rachel to come to him like she did, but then again, Rachel never really did what people expected her to do. She always had a way of surprising him, and upon further consideration, he wouldn't mind a few more surprises like that. That had been, hands down, the most mind-blowing sex of his life. He grinned. Well, it had been until they had Round Two in his bed.
He had been hoping against hope for a third round, but then Tank had started whimpering pitifully in the living room and Rachel had insisted he take the dog out for a walk. When he asked if she wanted to come, she just said she needed a little while to recuperate, but she said it with this glint in her eye that made him think that there was hope for Round Three after all.
But right now, with her in his arms, he was starting to see the benefits of a quick nap. They had been out late and up early, after all. And then there was this hangover.
He was just dozing when he felt her fingers trailing up and down the arm he had around her waist. "Is it still raining?" she asked sleepily.
"Yup."
"That's a shame. It doesn't look like we can leave the apartment at all today."
"Leave the apartment?" he grumbled, lifting a hand to cup her breast. "We're not leaving this bed."
She turned and sat up on her elbows, the sheet falling to her middle, and Finn felt his mouth go dry. "That's just unproductive!"
"I can think of a few very productive things we can do in bed."
"Uh uh," she said, grabbing the throw blanket from the end of his bed and wrapping it around herself. "I need a shower." He groaned into his pillow but she just made a little face and stood up. "You may be just fine without bathing, Finn Hudson, but I am a lady and I can't abide someone who doesn't have proper grooming habits."
He flopped onto his back and watched as she walked to his bathroom. "The towels are in the linen closet behind the door," he chuckled, closing his eyes.
"Oh, Finn," she called in a singsong voice. He cracked an eye open and saw her standing in the doorway, looking over her shoulder at him. She dropped the throw blanket and smiled at him saucily. "I can think of a few very productive things we can do in the shower."
On second thought, maybe a shower didn't seem so bad after all.
"Ugh," she groaned into his chest. "I don't want to go home."
"Hm?" They were lying on the couch in his living room watching the evening news. Rachel was lying completely on top of him and Finn had his hands up her shirt, rubbing circles along her back. It had been a completely hedonistic day, spent lazing around and making love.
They'd finally left the bedroom a couple hours back to scrounge for food in his kitchen. He'd told her to grab a shirt from his closet, the t-shirt she had worn that morning laying forgotten somewhere in the apartment. When she emerged from his room wearing nothing but one of his button-up shirts, he'd nearly accosted her right there in the living room and the grilled cheese he was preparing was burnt beyond all hope.
Even though the shirt was now worse for wear (they'd lost several buttons in their urgency to get it off of her), she'd never felt more attractive. She'd always wanted to lounge around like this, but all of David's shirts were from Bergdorf Goodman and he'd hardly let her touch them, much less wear one. How it was that she could love two men so completely different from one another, she would never know.
"I'll have to leave in a little while," she said quietly. "We both have work tomorrow."
"What time do you go in?"
"Not until ten thirty."
"Well then, just stay here," he suggested hopefully. "You can get up with me and head back to your apartment to get ready in the morning."
"Are you sure?" she asked, pushing herself up on her elbows.
"Sure I'm sure." He reached up and pushed a strand of hair back behind her ear. "I want you to stay."
She smiled and leaned forward to kiss him. "Well, if you're positive."
They lay in silence for a few more minutes and listened to the rain pattering on the windows. "What time do you get off?" he asked.
"I just work the lunch shift tomorrow. I'm off at four thirty."
"Maybe we can do something nice for dinner and catch or show or something. Would you like that?"
She giggled. "You're not sick of me yet?"
"If you want me to get sick of having you around, Rach, you're going at from the wrong angle," Finn teased. "What do you say?"
"It does sound like fun."
"Good," he said, turning off the television and sitting up. He stood and lifted Rachel up into his arms and she threw her head back with laughter.
"What are you doing?" she asked, although she had a feeling.
"Well, the way I see it, we've got to get up early tomorrow morning. And I fully plan on loving you senseless at least two more times tonight, so we may as well get started."
She smiled mischievously and placed a kiss on his cheek before whispering, "I can't wait."
Author's Note: Poor Tank.
Disclaimer: Glee is the property of Ryan Murphy and FOX. I'm just manipulating it for my own nefarious (and strictly nonprofit) purposes.
