Disclaimer: I own none of this stuff. I'm just playing and having fun, but I'm not necessarily gaining anything other than a little sanity so please don't sue me. The rest of the author's note is at the end. Thanks for reading!

Day Twenty-Nine: More Than Words

He reaches up and taps his fist against the dark red colored door. He breathes in one breath and he tries really, really hard to breathe deep and slow so it will reach down into his chest and tell his heart to stop it with the fucking hammering already. His goddamn heartbeat has been giving him a headache for the last two days and he can't do much of anything until he just…he just misses her, is that wrong?

And any calming effect the deep breath actually had is totally undone by the way her dad's expression steels when he realizes who's at the door.

"Hello, Mr. Berry," he says. He swallows thickly and looks down but he can still feel the murder in the black man's cold, coal eyes. "Is Rachel home?"

"I assume you'd already be privy to that information if she wanted you to know."

"Wh-what?" Finn asks. He's pretty sure that's dad talk for I could tell you but then I'm going to have to kill you and I might just skip to the second part because my daughter is mad at you.

Leroy Berry just sighs and swings out to the side, opening the door to let Finn inside. "Something tells me by the way you sat outside for twenty minutes and the way Rachel's been holed up in her room for two days that you two need to talk."

"Yeah, I agree," Finn says. He's kind of disappointed, honestly, when her dad doesn't leave it at that. He asks Finn to follow him into the kitchen so they can talk. . And when Finn walks into the kitchen, he's a little amused and a little sad to see sugar cookies covering, like, every available inch of counter space. And table space. And even a couple of chairs pushed up to the island-style counter. "Oh."

"Yeah, 'oh'." Leroy takes a seat at the table so Finn does the same. "It would seem Rachel is just a little out of sorts."

Finn nods. "I get that feeling." He rolls his eyes a little and shakes his head.

"So… what happened?" Her dad was imposing, but now he's munching on a sugar cookie. That kind of takes some of the sting out of it. Plus, he doesn't look quite so angry. Maybe since he knows Finn isn't going to be all stand-offish with him.

Never mind the fact that's because Finn is scared to death.

"Um…"

"She didn't find out something you've kept from her—again—did she?"

Okay, maybe he was a little too quick to think he should be anything less than whatever is the step above totally scared to death.

"No."

"And she didn't kiss another boy and get dumped for it?"

Finn lets in a long breath again and damn it, heart and stomach…heart pounding and stomach sinking and it goes against bio for you to be this far apart and it feels horrible and just knock it the fuck off.

"No."

Leroy raises an eyebrow and coolly assesses Finn over the remaining two bites of his cookie before he tries again once he realizes Finn isn't going to volunteer anything. "You want to have sex with my daughter and she's not ready?"

Now, Finn's never really been shy about eating Rachel's cookies. But he's pretty sure this question, or maybe some sort of thinking this was coming, is the reason he didn't dig in. Like—he would've choked.

He chokes a little bit anyway. "I'm sorry— what?"

"I'm confident you heard me just fine."

Finn looks at the man directly and it's not like he can lie exactly. "I'm not pressuring her into anything. She said she wants to wait until she's twenty-five." He flicks a glance up at the ceiling. Her bedroom isn't even the room right over the kitchen, but it's like he's looking for her or some sign she's there. He drops his voice. He isn't too sure what's okay to say to her dad and what isn't okay and he sighs as he tries to decide. "It's not that it's just…we just have a lot to work out from last time and we were watching a stupid Barbra Streisand movie that started a fight 'cause Rachel doesn't think I think she's pretty enough or good enough when…whatever…it's not her, it's me and—"

"Rachel doesn't think she's pretty enough? For what?"

Finn sighs and his shoulder drops but at least his jackhammer heart has slowed and he doesn't feel like he's going to choke on it any more. He shakes his head. "She seems to think I'm some great catch and, like, she's not good enough for me." He drops his gaze to the table and runs his hand over the crease in the wood where it folds out into a larger oval. "I don't…she doesn't believe me that it's the other way around. And I got frustrated with her and she's mad at me and I …I don't know how to fix it exactly but I know I have to try."

"Do you have a plan?" Leroy asks slowly. He passes one of the unfrosted cookies over and Finn takes it but doesn't eat and instead basically reduces it to crumbs as he fiddles with it while he talks.

"Do I ever? I mean, no. I'm really not good at this kind of stuff, and especially not good like Rachel is 'cause she's gonna just shoot down any argument I have but I just miss her and I just…I want to get through to her that she's…y'know…like, this is a totally no-win situation. She thinks I don't want to have sex with her because she's not enough for me, like that's even possible. But if I did tell her how much I want her, she'd feel all pressured and like that's all I wanted from her but…she wants to wait and I..."

He chances a glance at Leroy and wishes he would have been smart enough to add something about the man probably wanting to cut off any part of Finn's body that actually touched his daughter. At least he had the sense to stop talking –even if it was about four sentences too late.

When Leroy starts laughing, Finn's heart almost stops. (Which is not an improvement over the pounding from before…and maybe part of his nervous energy has made him pace, but whatever… it just gives him a head start when he has to start running away and that might very well be now). Leroy slings an arm over Finn's shoulders and urges him to sit down. Finn's ass hits the chair before he realizes all Leroy wants him to do is sit, not walk the plank or whatever. Leroy pushes a whole plate of cookies toward him with a smile.

"Son, welcome to the wonderful world of women."

"Well…" Finn breathes out. "It can be wonderful. It can be, like all warm and soft and good-smelling and…" he looks at Leroy with a confused scowl. "…but how would you know? I mean, maybe from Rachel I guess, but like were you—did you ever…"

Leroy's louder laugh cuts him off again before Leroy looks around nervously and then clears his throat a little. "Well, Rachel got it from somewhere and Hiram can be a bit...high strung… at times," he confides.

Finn's brow furrows. Did Leroy just call Hiram...a woman? Or was he…like…with a chick at some time and now saw the same things in Rachel's other dad? He tries not to sigh because it's not worth trying to figure this out. Hopefully Leroy will be able to actually help. It's not like his mom can because she's actually a chick and she'll probably just hit him when she figures out was mean to Rachel.

"So what do you do about it? I mean…I just want her to believe me. Like not even anything about sex, like…I just know what it's like to feel like garbage and to feel like you're a huge screw up and Rachel is not so she shouldn't feel like she is and…"

Leroy's next words are totally quiet. "Finn, what is it you love about my daughter?"

Finn's pretty sure he can't get away with saying everything even if it's the truth 'cause that's just too cheesy.

"She's…" he starts. "She's just…"

He can't describe her. Maybe that's what he loves the most. He loves little tiny things like the way her fingers always tickle his neck when they make out or hug or even sometimes when they just lay there and be quiet for a while; or the way she always tastes a little bit like strawberries. He loves the look on her face and the way she sucks in a breath when he moves in slow before he kisses her so she really knows it's coming.

He loves the bigger things, too, like the way she turned his whole life upside down and the way she dreams so big even from a tiny body.

There's no way he can say all this to her dad. But he knows how to get it through to her because he speaks her native language (…at least, that's what Kurt called it. Whatever. And it worked at Nationals so why mess with success, really? Now that he knows he can do this and it won't totally suck ass.)

Leroy is still looking at him and waiting for an answer. "Do you have some paper I can borrow?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It's not like he wanted to just leave. He'd gone to her house with the intention of working things out, really. Plus he knew her dads were going out of town for the weekend and they kind of frowned upon her having people over once they were gone. Leroy had come home from work early, that's why he'd even been home in the first place, and by the time he makes it back over later the same afternoon the men are both gone.

On the other hand, this totally works out better and he's glad they aren't there to hear some of the stuff that ended up in the song 'cause he knows it would probably get her in more trouble than his being here once they've vacated the premises.

Plus, if he waited 'til later, Blaine could help him. Who knew that kid played guitar? And not only does he play, he's really good with it and can improvise and can help with tunes and stuff.

So he's in a much better place to do this now than he was even a few hours ago and he's pretty surprised the whole thing worked up this quick and just… whatever. Mostly he hopes she gets what he wants her to get out of it and if this is a good way to tell her and make her understand, the bottom line is he'll try and try again 'til she gets it. He needs her to get it so they can move on from this stupid fight.

He rattles off a quick text message. The thing about Rachel is he knows she's been getting his messages. Her phone is never more than two seconds away from her hand and he just knows. Even if she doesn't answer, it's just because she's mad and not because she didn't get the message.

I know you're mad. You don't have to open the door or look at me. Just open your window and listen.

He can see when she does it because the curtains blow out a little bit through the open window. Blaine shrugs and just starts playing, hoping they can muster up enough volume from their seat on the bench under the tree to reach the second floor window.

It's the way your fingers touch my neck. It's the moments that I can't forget. It's the way you smile when you say my name. It's the way I've seen my whole world change. It's the smile that won't go away…and how every kiss tastes. You're more than words, you're more than dreams. You're more than hearts were meant to be. You're more than I deserve, you're more than I'd expect. Every word is true…'cause it's you.

Blaine is still brushing his fingers softly over the guitar strings, holding the simple accompaniment steady even as he nods confidently and winks at Finn. Finn tries to remember that's just how Blaine is and it's not creepy.

It's the moment right before we kiss, when time seems to not exist. It's when I open my eyes and you're still asleep, right before I lock the door behind me. It's the drag-me-back look you have in your eyes after the sixth time we've said goodbye.

By the time he hits the chorus again, she's standing behind the screen door watching, the front door opened so she can see him.

In every single day and every single way you've touched my soul. Every single day, you're every single thing that's indescribable.

She pushes the screen door open and she's standing there barefoot and in a spaghetti-strapped tanktop and sweatpants and tears in her eyes. He can even see them from the driveway.

Every word is true, 'cause it's you.

Blaine strums the song to a close and Rachel holds her hand out, hooking her finger towards her as she refuses to stop looking at Finn. He puts his hands in his pockets and flips a quick look to Blaine, who just nods like go on and get yours. Finn's pretty sure the sixty-seven or so times he's already said the words were an adequate thank you. So he heads inside to explain some more. It's only when the door clicks shut behind him that he realizes he probably doesn't have a way to get home.

Oh, well. Bigger fish in the sea or something like that.

Even though the house is empty, they go to her room. It's kind of like their default setting anyway, and even if his song was what he really wanted to say and have her hear, it also was just the beginning. They have some talking to do. And honestly, he wants to—because he thinks fights can happen and they can still be okay. It doesn't have to be the end of the world, especially not a stupid fight where she doesn't know he thinks she's sexy as hell because—well, that's just ridiculous. Like it's not even a conversation.

She sits on her bed, though, and doesn't say a word.

"You wrote me another song?"

He doesn't smile. "Seems like a good enough way to make you listen and I was pretty sure what I wanted to say wouldn't get through the normal way." He lowers his gaze and breathes out. "It frustrates me when you say you suck. Or you're not sexy. Or whatever scares you. Like—okay, I like that we talk about this stuff but there's nothing I can say that will really change the way you feel about yourself, but I don't think you understand how much I think about you. And different parts of your body. And I want to have sex with you someday but…but it just… it makes me hurt when you say all that stuff you said 'cause I don't want you to even feel that way."

"…just… someday?" She asks quietly.

He feels like he's banging his head against a wall. Seriously. But instead of actually doing that like he might want to, he moves to sit next to her on her bed.

He lets out a frustrated groan. "I just…I want you to not feel bad about yourself before we do it. Like okay, the thing with Santana is that sex and confidence are the same thing for her. And you're not that way and it's so good you're not that way. You should be confident about all the good stuff you are and the good stuff you do and I just wish you could feel it all the way deep down instead of just pretending. So that's how we'll know when we're ready, because it will be all about how much we love each other and how good it feels, not just…not just how needy we are."

"I know you were here earlier," she starts after a long pause and great. There's no way this is going to be good for him because he was so upset and nervous he can barely even remember what he said to her dad. He takes a deep breath and lets her continue. "My dad said he was so proud we're waiting until we're twenty-five."

Her smirk says quite a bit of things she doesn't get out of her mouth.

"Yeah, well…"

"You would wait that long?" She asks. "Really?"

"Well, I don't want to but…yeah. I would wait that long for you if that's what you wanted me to do."

She seems to consider this for a long time, and he doesn't know if what he said is a good or a bad thing; he can never really tell 'til she talks again—and especially because she's not stomping away and he also can't see her face that well at the moment.

"I think about it… a lot," she admits. She shrugs and they're sitting close enough he can feel her move his shirt a little bit with her arm.

He looks at her and gives her a little smile. "Yeah? And what do you think?"

She closes her eyes and even though she's smiling a little, her words kind of cut that off. "I'm scared."

He nods. "Yeah. Me, too." He clears his throat and continues on. "I'm scared maybe I'll push too hard 'cause I know the other one pushed you about it and he was kind of an asshole with all this stuff. And I know how it feels to get pushed into that and…so, yeah. I'm afraid you'll think I'm pushy. But then apparently that made problems because you think I don't want you like that and I do. A lot."

"But you've done it before," she protests. "What if I'm terrible at it? What if… what if it changes everything? What if you don't want me anymore after that because it's so bad?"

Finn sighs and puts his arm around her. "Well, I already told you it doesn't count for anything from when I did it before because… well, because it was nothing. I already know when we do… well, when we do it, it's not gonna be nothing. It's going to be everything. And there's no way in hell you could be bad at it. You're never really bad at anything you try."

"I could be bad at that," she says. "I don't want to be."

He squeezes the top of her arm and lets his fingertips rub her warm skin. "You won't be. I might be." He's still watching her and he drops his voice lower. "And would you love me less if I were?"

She laughs a little bit. "Of course not. I might buy you a book or insist you practice…"

"See, so you'd just deal with it like anything else," he says simply. He breathes out. "I'm sorry about the text. It was mean. And I'm sorry I got mad, Rach. I just…it kills me when you're down on yourself. And if I need to step up and do a better job reminding you how awesome you are, then I'll do it." He can't hide his grin any more. "And do you really want to know all the dirty stuff I want to do with you right now, even if we aren't going to have sex? 'Cause the list is kind of long."

Her eyes get wide. "You have a list?"

"Well…not like… I don't write it down. 'Cause Kurt snoops in my room and so does my mom and… whatever, but yeah. There's a list. A dirty list."

She bites her lip and watches him carefully. He's been less sheltered than she has, and she knows it. A lot of his sexual awareness has been from just being around someone like Puck—not to mention the girls Puck hooks up with. He's heard a lot and he's probably seen a lot and she isn't entirely certain she can keep up. She's not prepared for this.

"…well, what's on it?" She asks curiously; maybe if he'll just tell her the names of anything she can look into it and feel like she isn't some child playing in a grown up world. Even more than she hates her insecurities, she hates when she doesn't know the answer to something.

Instead of just answering her, he turns to put his knees on the edge of the bed and, as he crawls toward the pillows, he latches an arm around her and carries her with him.

"I don't think I want to tell you," he says simply.

"But we—"

He shuts her up with a kiss and then he talks immediately so she can't get another word in. "No, I think I just want to show you. 'Cause I'm not great with words, you know."

She lets out a nervous little laugh. He drops his mouth to her neck though, letting his tongue dance over her bare skin and turning her laugh into a little bit of a gasp. She's always kind of had a thing for him sucking on her neck and she doesn't know how it's possible something so simple can just feel so good.

He licks and kisses down around the neckline of her tanktop. It's not extremely low-cut, just enough that he can dip the tip of his tongue into the crease of her cleavage; but about the time he does that, his hand wanders up her side, dragging along until he can catch his hand around her ribcage and just the pad of his thumb to work her nipple, rubbing over the fabric of her shirt until the small knot becomes visible.

He grabs her with his other hand in the same way and kisses his way up to her other ear before breathing his next words. "And if you ever really doubt how much I want you like this…." he grabs her hand away from his side and presses it down on the fly of his jeans. She gives his already-tight erection a small squeeze and he dips his head to her shoulder long enough to let in shaky breath. He gives a brief smile before he lets his eyes wander to hers. "Well… just don't anymore, 'kay?" She rubs her palm against him and he lunges into her grasp beyond his own control.

So he might be new to some of this, not as much as she is, but there's something first on his list. And the reason it's first is because, for as new as he is, his ears are not virgins. Like, hanging around with Puck or even listening to the Cheerios talk when he was waiting outside the locker room for Quinn… well, he heard things. And he's heard there's one certain way to just…well, to make a girl totally fall apart and to just…

Basically, he wants to make Rachel feel like she makes him feel every single day. And he thinks he knows how to and he's pretty sure she'll let him. He means, like… his fingers were just there the other day (and shut up, the day after that and then the day after that twice—who is counting? Just stop it) so it's not a big stretch that she would like his tongue even more than his fingers.

Well, either way he should probably stop thinking about it and just see, right? Like…maybe she just needs him to just act and not be so patient about it.

So he snakes his way down her body, even with her clothes still on, and he totally has to stop and pull the hem of her shirt up because is it weird that he wants to lick her stomach? It seems weird, but on the other hand, he can feel her muscles clenching under his tongue and she keeps sighing and it's really easy for him to just continue down from there. Her pants are loose so they come off easily, and he just keeps going. It's that simple. She lifts her hips up to help him and he actually ends up accidently finding this spot on the back of her knee that makes her shake a little and then relax her legs more. He turns his head to suck on the inside of her thigh—the first time he's given anyone that kind of a hickey and he'll make sure she knows that later—and she's still not stopping him. As he darts his tongue out again, he doesn't even recognize the sound she lets out.

Score.

He always thought it would be kind of weird. Like when he was outside the locker room and heard girls talking…he wasn't sure it was something he wanted to ever try. But he turns his head anyway and brings his fingers up, running them lightly through her slick folds even as he blows out a nervous breath. She shudders and scoots her butt a little closer to him, but he just…he has to make sure.

"Is this okay?" He barely manages. He looks up at her and if the look she shoots him isn't the hottest look he's ever seen then…

"This is okay," she breathes before she drops her head back to the pillows. She doesn't say anything else, really, and he's busy running his tongue along the trail straight down her center that his finger had just taken. "Oh…oh my God."

He moves as slowly as he can, trying to coordinate both at the same time, using his tongue and sliding his finger, first around, and then inside her. They've done this a couple times now and she was always wet, but he can feel her getting wetter as his tongue traces lightly along her slit, just getting a feel for the warm flesh and getting used to the way she tastes.

He's going to have to add that taste to the list of reasons he loves her, most likely. It's not what he was expecting, but it's not bad…and well, he's so rock-hard and so turned on by the fact she's letting him do this at all that it might just be considered bias of some kind. Who cares? His tongue is settling into a light pattern against her clit and that's really all he can focus on.

There are a lot of sex tips thrown at your average teenage guy, and he can only think of a couple related to this. Girls talking about the alphabet and spelling it out slowly. So that's what he does. He's got three fingers pressed into her now—she was the one begging for more—and her muscles are so tight he can barely move his hand. But when he does move his hand, she moves her hips, and his fingers curl and then her thighs clamp around him. He's pretty sure that means he's doing something right.

Her hips are moving now, a little more insistent, so he bears down a little harder, speeds up his movements a little more and right about the time he remembers the letter "F" comes after "E" (he was moving slow like they said) she literally yells his name and she's riding his face while she comes and he totally loses it himself because…after all… he is only a man (a man who has awkwardly shifted against the bed, looking for even just a little bit of friction because his balls were starting to feel so tight). And it seems like his own grunt just makes her come harder because she responds to his mouth vibrating against her skin.

Just because sometimes he's curious like that, he pulls his fingers out of her and he moves his tongue out of the way, but then lets his teeth graze over her swollen skin, the lightest scrape he can manage. She gives another moan, but it doesn't sound tired and it doesn't sound done, so he does it again. And then he sucks on the skin and she's got her hands in his hair, tugging at it as she calls his name and presses his face into her harder.

Okay, so maybe he won't be bad at this.

He keeps at it, nibbling softly and sometimes letting his tongue out to dance along her; her skin feels hotter than ever and he feels every scrape of her fingernails on his scalp as the feeling shivers down his spine and it's just… it's a lot. And it's awesome.

Until she comes again and he can feel her whole body pulsing around him and then it's something a little more than awesome. He just can't think of the word—or really any words for that matter. So instead, with one last, soft kiss, he pulls himself up over her and then drops down next to her and gathers her into his arms. He knows he needs to change his clothes and use some mouthwash or something and they'll probably have to wash her bedding and stuff, but…well, too bad. He's missed burying his face in the back of her neck when she curls up against him. Everything else can wait a little longer.

"That was…" she finally says, her voice shaky and quiet. Like, she waits a really, really long time to talk. He's not sure he can yet. "…unexpected."

He laughs a little, not bothering to remove his face from the back of her neck. "Is that a good thing?"

"I had no idea you wanted to do that," she admits. "I had no idea I wanted to do that until you were doing it." She turns in his arms and she's still pressed up against him and…well, this way is good, too.

"It's just the first thing on the list, Rach. I want you so bad all the time...like that…'cause I love you, you know?"

She sighs. "Well, I love you, too. So would it hurt if I…um… returned the favor?" He can feel her smile even though he's holding her so close he can't see her face.

He laughs. "I'm pretty sure it wouldn't hurt but…let's just save that for another time. Today was your turn. Because I wanted to do it and a little bit because I'm sorry I got mad and we fought. And I'm really sorry about that text message." (And also 'cause he's pretty sure she would appreciate it if he took a shower first because…right. He won't get into all that just now though.)

"I'm sorry I…" she sighs and presses a kiss under his chin before snuggles into him a little more. He knows her by her shaky sigh that she wants to say more, but she really doesn't need to, he knows she's sorry, too. So he hugs her back and presses a kiss to the crown of her head. Yeah, apologies can wait.

And in a lot of ways, setting things right is the best thing they could've done with the day. They'll just reschedule the trip to the museum.

A/N: Okay, so note at the end instead of start so I didn't ruin anything. First off, sorry again for the length. Kind of. Second, major thanks to Jen, Lizzie, Leo, and Laura for their help on this part. It was kind of ambitious subject matter for me as a writer and each of you made it better. So thank you for all the input and not making fun of my freaking out. I hope it came out right. And, even if your name isn't in that list, thanks so much for reading and reviewing and asking and suggesting. I did have one thing to credit that I missed in an earlier chapter: the puddle jumping was ALL Leo's idea/prompt. Because he's generally awesome like that and I now have about a dozen other prompts of his to fill, too. They're so good I can't say no.

The song is not actually written by Finn, obviously, but it is a real song and it's incredible and by an incredible musician. It's Indescribable by Josh Damigo.