A/N: (repost from tumblr) gif here: bit dot .ly/10rshzl

AU Finchel where Rachel walks in on her roommate's best friend in the nude


better than imagination

She was in no mood to be nice when she got home. She'd just had the worst day ever and was looking forward to a hot bath, some white wine and whatever was on TV tonight. Her dance professor at NYADA was the worst teacher she's ever met and she felt some vindication in hating Cassandra July with every fibre of her being.

She hears humming as she heads to the kitchen and sighs heavily.

Tonight calls for comfort food and she's really going to break Santana's neck if there isn't any left. Santana doesn't even like vegan ice cream, she'll eat it just because she's too lazy to go out and buy her own ice cream.

And she really doesn't want to talk to anyone.

Before she even goes to her room, she goes to the bathroom first. Once she's showered and Santana sees her in her robe, she won't question her, and will leave her be.

She should have followed her mind and went straight to her dad's place after work. But no, she still has classes in the morning, and even though she'd like to skip and bury herself under the covers until Cassandra dropped dead, Rachel Berry does not quit and therefore will be at classes, perfecting her craft until Cassandra fully understands the magnitude of her talent. Once and for all.

She clutches her robe tight as she emerges from the bathroom and walks briskly to her bedroom.

Then stops, walking back to Santana's room, frowning as she sticks her head in.

There was a naked man standing in Santana's bedroom painting.

A naked. Man. In Santana's bedroom.

This was unheard of.

The only man to ever get into Santana's bedroom was her father, brother and Rachel's cousin when he helped them move in.

So, this, is strange.

She rubs her eyes, convinced she's seeing things.

Nope. Still there.

And he's completely oblivious to her standing there, gawking at his nakedness. And to her credit, she can't look away.

She's not even sure she wants to.

He's sort of beautiful to look at.

And from what she can see of the painting – a self-portrait – that's lovely too.

He's tall with really long legs, paint smears staining his pale skin. His ass is pretty cute too (is that even a word she's allowed to use to describe a man's behind? She's not sure but for lack of a better word, the stranger's ass is rather magnificent, as most derrieres go. Outside of her cousin's porn collection, she's never actually seen a man naked, so kindly fuck off.)

His back is strong, shoulders broad, and she's kind of mesmerized by his movements, the muscles in his back bunching and rippling under the skin as his hands make steady and curved marks on the canvas in front of him. There's a tattoo on his right bicep, she can't make out what it is really, but her fingers itch to trace the design.

His hair is messy, flopping over his forehead every time he bobs his head to the music from the headphones in his ears and he's humming along to the song, muttering obscure words as his fingers move deftly over the canvas.

The longer she stands there, the more she enjoys the view and silently wills him to turn around. She's not thinking of doing anything (of course not!) but she's been treated so far in the show all she wants is a better look. (Why not?)

He looks up into the mirror in front of him and seems to finally realize she's standing there. He turns his head, a curious look on his face as he watches her.

She's been standing there so long staring at him that she doesn't have the time to hurry away or look away once he catches her staring.

He offers a small smile, a dimple peeking out as one side of his mouth lifts up and his fingers reach up to tug the headphones from his ears.

"Hi."

Her eyes flashes to his and she nods, tilting her head to the side in question, ignoring the heat on her cheeks from getting caught staring at him.

"I'm Finn, Santana's friend from back home? She's in LA for the shoot, said I was welcome to stay here for the week til my apartment's finally ready?"

She vaguely remembers Santana mentioning a childhood friend moving to the city and maybe needing to crash here while their apartment finished painting. She doesn't remember Santana saying anything about that friend being a man and being quite so sexy.

She's still staring at him and Finn's smile gets wider. He tugs off the headphones completely and rests his paint palette on top of the stereo beside him before turning around entirely. Her eyes zero in on the heaviness between his legs and her tongue slowly peeks out to wet her lips.

"You must be Rachel, right?"

Her mouth gets dry, nipples pebbling underneath her robe and an intense warmth seems to throb from between her legs. Unconsciously, she grips the front of her robe, conscious of the thought in the far recesses of her mind that tells her to drop it and match him nakedness to nakedness.

The front is even more good-looking than the back.


A/N: Who else wants to see Finn (Cory!) naked?!