A/N: Lots of feelings this week, missing these two wonderful souls. Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed, I really appreciate it.
It was the third episode he was in so far. And with the building sexual tension between Spencer and Marisol, she was going to accidently walk in on him shirtless in the bathroom. Finn would be wet from having only just gotten out of the shower, and he'd only be seen to be wearing a towel. His co-star Jennifer was professional, and Finn wasn't worried about her reacting to him, he just didn't want to do this at all. In reality he had underwear on, but his pasty, under-toned chest and flabby belly were going to be on display for all the world to see. He didn't have the muscular Hollywood heartthrob physique. Something Finn had been made painfully aware of. To make matters worse the assistant director had been hinting he should hit the gym more.
Finn had been dreading shooting this scene ever since he'd gotten the script. He desperately wanted to talk to Santana about it, since she was pretty comfortable showing off her… assets. But since they'd been avoiding each other, and now, only now just talking again, he hadn't been able to. He felt good about the decision to take things slow, and take a step back, they'd never really sat down and discussed living together it had just sort of happened due to circumstances.
And when Finn raised his concerns with the director, the guy had laughed in his face, and said, he'd signed a contract, so they could basically make him do anything they liked. And Finn hated that they didn't care that he was uncomfortable. It was his body! Did they really have more control over it than he did? He just wanted to talk to Santana.
The plan was to shoot the shower scene on Monday, today had only been rehearsal, and they'd shot an earlier scene with Spencer and Marisol talking about his dad. Finn was exhausted when he finally did get back to Mercedes' place. He came in and dropped his keys on the floor and flopped face first onto the couch and resolved to just stay there. He felt a hand on the back of his head, ruffling his hair. He turned thinking for some reason it had to be Santana.
"Rough day?"
It was Rachel, looking uncertain, smiling as if she hoped he didn't mind she'd just shown up.
"You could say that," Was all he said, turning over to sit up on the couch.
"Tell me," Rachel began to explain herself, "Mercedes had to go, but she said you wouldn't be long."
Finn wasn't sure what to expect this time. Rachel politely sat next to him, looking sorry about everything.
"I…" Finn sighed, "it doesn't matter."
"You used to tell me everything," She sounded dejected.
Finn didn't want to get into it though, "I know I did."
"But not now," Rachel observed sadly, but accepted his silence.
Trust is earned.
"I need to tell you something," She finally said after it had been too long.
Finn was unsure what could be about to topple out of her mouth at this point.
"There's talk of a revival of Funny Girl on Broadway, I'm flying out tonight to start preparing my audition."
"That's awesome, Rachel!" Finn admitted, "I'm so happy for you."
"Fanny Bryce!" Rachel's face beamed, "It's a dream come true!"
"Well, don't let me distract you," Finn said, "This has been your dream since pre-school. Go get it!"
"It's open call," Rachel became reticent, crossing her arms, "I'll be up against seasoned Broadway performers."
Finn smirked, "Since when is Rachel Berry afraid of a challenge?"
Rachel looked embarrassed for a moment, looking up and smiling.
"Can't wait to see you kill the competition," Finn encouraged, "get your name up in lights. That's where you belong, Rachel."
And he meant every word.
Rachel nodded, looking at him with a sad and longing expression for a moment too long, "Thanks Finn, you always know how to make me feel better."
Rachel wrestled with something else, Finn sat patiently, waiting for her to find her voice.
"I'm not going to pretend that I understand, or I'm happy about… her," Rachel admitted peevishly, before softening her tone, "But, I think I'm… going to let you figure that one out on your own."
Finn grinned broadly, "That's all I was hoping for."
"I don't think you belong together…" Rachel started to say, gathering her coat and bag, before seeing Finn's patience vanish, then she sighed, and took a deep breath and found her poise, "Tell Santana… I'm sorry about the milkshake."
Finn didn't know what she was referencing. But he nodded all the same.
"You know I want nothing but the best for you," Finn reiterated, getting up himself now, making sure she stared into his eyes, "I'll be in the front row cheering the loudest for you, you know that don't you? How much you mean to me?"
She smiled sadly, and they hugged, as old friends. Because whatever else they were or might be again, they genuinely cared for one another. She retreated to the entrance.
Finn called after her, "Let me know how you go."
"Will do," Rachel stopped at the door, hanging onto the handle, looking like she was dying for him to ask her to stay. "Bye, Finn," Rachel still looked dramatic, but there were no tears this time, "You do seem… good."
I feel good. Being here. Finn wasn't full of regret. He knew where returning to New York with Rachel led. Finn wasn't sure where the road with Santana led. Maybe somewhere bad, maybe he'd get third degree burns. But he wanted to try and find that out for himself.
)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))Kurt POV))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))
Kurt heard the grumbling sound of their hangar door creaking on its rollers. He ducked his head out from his makeshift bedroom partition. It was really late. Rachel had dropped her suitcase. She seemed like she'd been holding everything in, and now that she was home it all came pouring out of her. She stifled a sob. And Kurt came over to give her a hug, she sunk in his arms to the ground, as if holding herself up was too painful.
"I thought…" but her words were lost to sobbing.
"I'm here," Kurt reassured her.
She was incoherent for a time, and so Kurt just rubbed her back to be soothing. It was hard to accept things were over. He'd been slowly accepting this more and more with Blaine, even though they didn't have such a finite end themselves.
"It wasn't her…" Rachel wailed.
Kurt wasn't sure what she meant, but he chose to just listen.
"It was me!" Rachel cried, "I wrecked it."
She wiped tears and snot from her face, that was red and swollen. Kurt felt really bad for her. He knew how hard this was.
Rachel exclaimed, "He thinks I'm too self-centered!"
Kurt wasn't sure how to respond to that. So, he just squeezed her tighter.
"I thought it was just… her, with her sexy… and he was lonely, and she wowed him with her… skills!"
Kurt was listening.
"But Finn doesn't want me back," Rachel's voice was cracking, "He thinks there's no room for him in my life."
"I'm really sorry, Rachel," Kurt was supportive, "I know how much you love him."
Her whole body shook with sounds of pain.
"I've got ice-cream, cookies and cream," Kurt suggested, "we could watch Beaches." He didn't need to add 'and cry'. That was implied.
She nodded.
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It was the next day, Kurt had played hooky from NYADA, and Rachel had told him about the whole trip to L.A. now. So, he had a pretty good understanding of what went down. Mercedes had already called him too, before Rachel had arrived back home.
They were sitting on the couch again with crocheted throw rugs on their laps drinking tea, deciding which sad movie to watch and cry over next. They had it narrowed between Steel Magnolias and Thelma and Louise. He'd only been out once for more comfort food, doughnuts and Belgian waffles. Rachel hardly ever splurged like this.
"Are you going to call Santana," He asked calmly.
Rachel looked at him as if she didn't understand at all.
"To apologize."
"You think I should?"
Kurt nodded.
"You heard all those things she said to me, here," Rachel was shaking her head, pointing to the ground.
Kurt took the high road, "I'll be the first to admit I thought he was crazy for wanting to date her too, but part of showing respect for Finn, is showing respect for his choice of girlfriend."
Rachel ignored his point, "And the worst part is I know she meant all of those insults."
"Santana didn't break you guys up," Kurt reiterated, "You weren't together," He pointed out.
Rachel crossed her arms defensively and looked away, huffily, "So you're taking her side!"
"And, you called her a few bad names too, if I recall." He pointedly stared back.
Rachel was annoyed, "She's not sorry, why should I be?"
Kurt took a moment to compose his thoughts, "Rachel, we don't apologize because we know we are going to get an apology in return. We apologize because we are acknowledging we wronged someone."
"How did I wrong her?" Rachel argued, "She slept with my ex, while the dead body was still warm!"
"Finn isn't a thing, he made his own decisions," Kurt's annoyance snuck into his tone, "he wanted to be with her, too," Kurt pointed out. "And Finn was really down before the wedding, and he's doing better now. He said she really helped him."
Rachel wasn't impressed.
Kurt held his hands up, "Just think about it. If you can make your peace with their relationship, and still be on speaking terms with Finn, then… it seems only fair, that you don't," Kurt shook his raised hands for emphasis, "… blame Santana for all that is bad in the universe too."
Come on, Rachel. You're better than this.
Rachel rolled her eyes, but Kurt could see that she was softening on the idea, "I'll consider it!"
Rachel turned the TV off.
She smiled gregariously, "Now help me practice 'Don't Rain on my Parade' for my Funny Girl audition."
Kurt smiled, "Okay."
It wasn't for a month, but at least she had something she was genuinely excited about to focus on. She'd get through this.
"You're such a good friend," She observed getting up.
Yes, I am!
)))))))))))))))))))))))))) Santana POV))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))
Finn hadn't shown up to walk her home from the diner last night. Even though he'd said they were still dating, he was getting ready to pack his stuff up to move in with Puck tomorrow, and she just felt like nothing was ever going to be the same again.
It was Friday morning, and Santana hadn't bothered to run again today, she'd mostly been laying around on the couch, not even looking for more auditions. She couldn't face any more rejection right now. And then her cell phone rang. She hoped it was Brittany. They'd talked briefly yesterday in the afternoon. But, it was regionals today, and she'd sent her best friend a good luck message.
'Grandma Berry' was all that flashed on her iPhone display.
"Hi," Santana answered uncertainly, expecting Berry to hang up once she realized she'd accidently butt dialed her arch nemesis.
"Can we talk," Rachel sounded contrite.
Wait, she really called me?
"Sure," Santana didn't mean to drag out the syllable, but she was on edge as to what was coming.
"I'm sorry," Rachel sounded ready to burst, "I shouldn't have gone there to try to get Finn to come back to New York with me."
That sounds more like an apology you owe him, Santana thought, but didn't say.
"I'm listening," Was all Santana said in response.
"I shouldn't have attacked you," Rachel went on without encouragement from her, "I made it all your fault in my head, but the truth is, Finn doesn't want to be with me."
Yeah I can't imagine why he doesn't want to be with you!
REFRAIN, SANTANA, REFRAIN, she was even speaking to herself in third person now.
She's apologizing.
REFRAIN FROM SNARKY COMMENT!
"So, no more surprise visits to L.A.?" Santana spoke harshly, "And no more trying to convince Finn we don't make a good couple? Humiliating me at my job?"
"No."
Santana wasn't letting her off that easy, "No more false offers of friendship that is just you trying to date him again, and no more attempts to enroll him in schools in New York?"
"No."
"Well, then I accept your apology," Santana was still coming off catty, she was trying to dial down the attitude, because she wanted to mean that statement.
And, then Rachel waited.
Oh, now Barbara-in-training wants my apology. This is just… delicious!
I'm sorry that Brody had no personality, and kind of looks like Blaine Warbler's gay older brother, but gayer. I'm sorry that you felt the need to show him off to all your friends. I'm sorry that when I came across a depressed Finn, drowning his sorrows, I didn't let him drive drunk. I'm sorry that he's kind and supportive and I enjoy fucking him. I'm sorry I told you the truth about how I really feel about all your self-centered, only child, 'poor me' privileged, diva antics. I'm sorry that I kicked you out of the house in a city where you know no one, because I thought you'd slept with the guy I broke up with eight months ago. Oh, wait, no… that was you!
I'm sorry that Finn wants to be with me because we enjoy hanging out together, and that he's unashamedly pursuing his own thing. I'm sorry that he's realized he's more than just your boyfriend and can make it as an actor without any input from you! I'm sorry that I'm not sorry, we're here together and you're over there! Broadway is for geriatrics. It's all yours!
But all Santana forced herself to say in the end was, "Thanks for your call, Berry. Best of luck in New York."
And then she clicked 'end'.
Santana swallowed back all the venom in her throat. And then she took a breath. I'm gonna be constipated tonight!
Well, I wasn't sure she knew what an apology was… so I should probably call that progress and move on!
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Finn made an effort to go to the diner at closing time even though he'd had another really long day. Santana was happy to see him. Finn told her what had happened. That Rachel had made her peace with their relationship as much as she was ever going to, and that she'd gone back to New York. He mentioned the Funny Girl open call, and that Rachel had apologized for 'the milkshake'.
Santana was very quiet, preferring to just listen. But he could sense her relief.
"Thoughts?" Finn finally asked.
She just shook her head. But, Santana couldn't help but fidget. A pattern of behavior Finn was getting to know. Santana stepped towards him and began to straighten his collar, reflexively, calming her nerves.
"I know we said Monday for our date, but I managed to swap off Sunday instead," She explained.
Finn grinned. Perfect.
"So, um, if you can make that work, I'll pick you up at four."
"Sounds great," He kissed her cheek.
It was strange, but Finn was having a hard time staying mad at her. He was happy they were starting over and he'd missed her so much. Even though he still saw her at the flat in passing. Things weren't the same. But he wanted to get back to them dating, however slow.
"Oh, and don't wear jeans… or flannel."
"Huh?" Finn was exasperated, "What am I supposed to wear, then?"
"Dress pants and a shirt," She clarified.
"Where are we going?"
She raised a wicked eyebrow, "You'll see."
"I can't wait."
Santana offered him the baggy of leftover bear claw, but Finn said no thanks tonight, remembering his concerns about his 'less than washboard' abs. And then he told her about what had happened on set. And how he was feeling about the shower scene.
"They aren't going to change the scene, Finn," She told him straight.
"What if I do a bad job of it."
"Then audiences won't like it, and your arc will come to an abrupt end."
"So, basically I'm screwed," He surmised.
"You need to find a way to fake that you're confident," Santana explained, "that's what acting is, faking your way through stuff, making people believe that you've really been through what your character is going through."
She locked up the diner and they began the walk back to Mercedes' place.
"How?" Finn felt hopeless, "We film it on Monday, I don't have time to magically improve my stomach muscles."
"It's not about what you've got, per se," Santana said, "it's about conveying to an audience that you know you're sexy, and feel good about yourself."
"Huh?" Finn didn't think he could do that, "You've lost me."
"In reality you might have buck teeth or a big scar on you're face," Santana gave him an example, "But if you smile and walk tall, you are sending a message that you're comfortable in your own skin, that's what people pick up on, and it helps them see you as sexy too."
"Is that what you do?"
"Sure."
"Pre-implants?" Finn asked, spontaneously. Then he realized that was probably a no-go topic.
Santana was taken aback by his comment. Narrowing her gaze to his eyes to decipher his meaning.
Obviously, everyone knew. Coach Sue had nicknamed Santana 'sandbags' and used it in front of the school. But he'd never mentioned her surgery, ever. And Finn didn't think Santana had wanted people to know, but once the word was out, she'd simply owned it. But he'd seen the other side of it, in that motel room sophomore year. She wouldn't let him touch her bare chest, only through the padded nightgown.
"I'm not taking a shot," Finn made it clear he wasn't attacking her, "I just mean, it's easy to feel confident now that you look like… a Victoria's Secret model."
Santana thought back, "Then it was even more important to sell it. Back in the 'ironing board' days, I'd stuff my bra and show off my legs instead."
Finn nodded, but he wasn't sure how he was going to apply that to his situation.
"Which was easier in a Cheerios' uniform," She admitted.
He explained, "It's gonna be my bare chest and a towel, not much way to distract from anything."
"I agree you don't want to distract from your torso," Santana agreed, "But you need to use your face effectively."
"My face?"
"What is the intention of the scene? Is Marisol embarrassed?" Santana questioned. "Is there eye sex happening? How soon is there going to be more between them?"
Finn was at a loss, "I think they are playing it like, it's an accident, but she can't help but stare."
"Then you need to act chuffed she's checking you out, waggle your eye brows, look amused. And pull your shoulders back, you're not ashamed, you're flattered she thinks you're hot!"
"But I'm not hot," He said quietly.
"You are!" Santana simply stated, "And more importantly, you need to convince everyone that you believe it."
They walked in the door now. And Santana peeled off her jacket and hung it up. Finn went and sat on the couch and put his head in his hands. He just knew it was going to be a disaster.
Santana stood in her red waitress outfit, "Didn't you say you're wet as well?"
Finn didn't see why that mattered particularly, "Yeah, I'm meant to have just gotten out of the shower."
Santana's mouth curled up deviously at one side, "Follow me," She instructed, disappearing into the bathroom.
Finn did as she bid. Santana's uniform was on the floor and she was in the shower before he got to see anything. He sat on the edge of the bathtub and waited. He was getting excited knowing she was in there and naked, the glass cubicle was frosted so he could only see her outline. She wasn't long scrubbing the day's work off her body. Finn heard the water turn off, and he grabbed her towel and waited.
Santana only slid the door open a foot, and one leg came out first, painfully slowly, with water running down her silky thigh then her calf.
Finn involuntarily licked his lips.
Santana glided out, not embarrassed in the least, smiling artfully as she accepted the towel he was holding, fastening it around her waist, the way he would be expected too. Finn couldn't help but gape at her breasts on full display. Santana cocked a wicked eyebrow at him, and then she shimmied her shoulders ever so slightly while she twisted her hair to wring it out, which made the water drain out of her dark tresses and run down her chest in long streaks. One of the drips ran the length of her breast pooling at the tip of her nipple. She was mesmerizing. Finn was hard, and shaking a little just watching her.
Santana was self-satisfied, fully aware of the effect she was having on him. She slowly leaned over, pulling him up to standing.
She whispered seductively, "Now you try."
The next Finn knew he was on his knees, licking those drops of water off her perfect tits and pulling her towards him, and tugging the end of the towel. He wanted to show her how badly he wanted her, right here, right now. Santana looked amused by his loss of control. Like that had been her intention all along.
How am I ever going to go slow with you?
Damn it!
He'd wrapped his arms around her waist, to catch his breath, because he was heaving, because he was trying so hard to control himself. He hugged his face into her tummy, his cheek pressed up against her amazing stomach muscles.
He admitted, "I don't think I can… do that."
"Just try," She said, running a hand through his hair.
Finn hit the shower now and started to handle his own situation, since Santana had gotten him hot and bothered. He heard a knock on the glass, shocking him from his sweet fantasy.
She warned, seeming to know what he was up to, "It might be better if you aren't relieved."
"Are you trying to torture me?"
"Your choice," She said retreating from the room.
Finn wasn't about to give himself blue balls as well! This whole thing was hard enough, he didn't want to crack a fat with the cameras rolling on Monday. That would be mortifying!
The more he thought about it, the worse he felt about the whole thing. He brought himself back thinking about Santana with water cascading down her brea+
sts…
Once he'd 'taken care of business'. Finn shut the water off and took a few deep breaths.
Santana was waiting with a towel, she was now in her pajamas. Finn didn't need to be naked in the scene. So, he opened the door and snatched the cloth and went back in until he had it firmly fastened.
I can do this. I feel confident and sexy.
He stepped out looking her in the eye. She was standing as Marisol would be. Santana did a thoroughly unsubtle glance down his entire length and all the way back up again, and Finn felt his resolve crumble, he moved to cover his nipples with his hands.
"I can't do this!"
Santana gripped his shoulders, forcing Finn to look at her. "Try it again," She instructed, "but this time, imagine that I'm standing before you naked and dripping wet, and you can't wait to do all manner of dirty things to me."
"Santana!"
"I mean it!" She was completely serious, "You want to look sexy, think about something that turns you on."
Finn tried again, "Fine. But I'm fastening the towel first, I'm not you!"
"If you insist," She said, exaggerating her disappointment with an eye roll.
He tried it her way. He was visualizing them up to… stuff as he stepped out this time, looking her up and down, and running a hand loosely through his hair to get the water to cascade down his chest. And then Finn realized she was filming him with her phone.
"What the fuck!"
"That was perfect!" Santana exclaimed.
She stopped him from retreating back into the glass receptacle. She showed him the recording of his entrance, all 10 seconds of it. Finn could see a difference, he looked poised as he'd stepped out, and the hand through his hair causing the dripping of water to run down his body added a level of sex to his performance. But it was the way he'd looked at her was the kicker. Obviously, you couldn't see what he was looking at in the video but it was clear he was looking at someone he found attractive and the heat sort of existed on the screen.
Santana was really pleased, "Now you just need to do that on Monday, and not let anything put you off."
They did it a few more times just to be sure. And Finn found himself getting so carried away, he wanted to toss the whole 'let's go slow' thing into the trash. He could see it in her eyes, she wanted him to make the first move. She knew she couldn't, because he'd insisted they dial things back, and she was honoring his wishes.
"I better make up the couch," He finally said, "Big day tomorrow."
But Finn was staring at her luscious lips, remembering back, moments earlier to her curves, cascading with water. Why did I want to go slow again?
She stared back, longingly herself, smiling but unsatisfied, and nodded, "Goodnight."
Santana slipped quietly into her room, and Finn remained standing by the couch, in the dark for a long time. Finn just about gave himself wrist strain that evening and befouled about every sock he had.
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Puck had secured a tiny 2-bedroom apartment two blocks from Mercedes' flat, which Finn was happy about. It was cheaper, too, since Puck couldn't afford much. The fact that the toilet barely flushed, the shower pressure sucked and you couldn't run the microwave and toaster at the same time without blowing a fuse, well not so awesome.
Finn didn't have a lot of stuff, but most of it was still in Santana's room. She sat on the bed watching him take his possessions. She was trying to be helpful and got a trash bag and started to sort his items into piles.
Finn watched her toss the coasters he'd kept from Backstage Bar.
"No… not those, I want to keep them."
Santana pulled a face, "Why?"
"From our first… proper date."
Finn had enjoyed that night of karaoke, and remembered how she'd invited him to sing that Rhianna song with her, asking him to stay. So, he'd kept a souvenir. The coasters had the venue logo on them, and made him feel warm and fuzzy remembering back.
Santana thought it was hilarious, shaking her head as if he were hopeless handing them back.
"And Britt thinks I should be on 'Hoarders'!"
She took a big bag of his clothes to her car to help out. While Finn took the opportunity to take a dirty pair of her panties from her hamper, the red lacey ones that were his favorite. They also had sentimental value from the night that started all of this. He hoped she wouldn't notice, because it made him feel pathetic, and a little creepy.
They really only needed two car loads. At the other end, he gave her the tour. All ten steps of it, because you couldn't swing a cat in any room. Santana said it was 'nice' insincerely.
"What do you really think?"
"I'm glad this place is such a shithole," Santana was frank, "so when you forgive me you will want to move back to Mercedes' place extra bad."
Finn couldn't help but snort with laughter.
Santana helped him construct his makeshift wardrobe. She also got him a thoughtful housewarming gift, a power board and 2 extension cords, which wasn't a fun gift, but totally practical. Because he'd mentioned to her in passing that the place was a built in the pre-war period, and each room only had a single power point with 2 sockets.
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As soon as Mercedes and Santana had left though having helped with the move. It was just the two of them. Between Puck and Finn they didn't really have the practical stuff they needed to live anywhere, like cutlery, a toilet brush, plates, Finn had a single mug he'd occasionally drink coffee from, that was it.
"Dude, we need to hit Walmart," Puck stated.
"Yep."
And who's gonna cook now?
Grilled cheese it is, for breakfast, lunch and dinner!
Finn had gotten a mattress second-hand even though that wasn't considered sanitary. Finn had flopped into bed Saturday night, exhausted, hoping he wasn't going to wake up with bed bugs.
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And then finally it was Sunday and he was looking forward to his mystery date. Santana rocked up wearing a red V-neck dress, with an asymmetrical line hemmed with ruffles. Finn didn't know so much about fashion, but it looked like a Latin tango dress. Finn thought she looked stunning and she had a red flower in her hair that Santana had left unrestrained. He had black pants and a white shirt on.
She smiled, "You look perfect!"
"You look… hot!"
Which was met with an artfully raised eyebrow.
He leaned over and kissed her cheek, "So, where are we going?"
"You'll see!"
Santana drove them to Downtown L.A. As they got closer there were cordoned off streets and lots of pedestrians.
Santana finally said, "Fiesta Broadway."
"What's that?"
"A Latin Festival, the largest in the country."
"Never heard of it."
"Like half a million people attend, once a year."
"Wow!"
"There's dancing, and Latin food, and it's fun."
He asked of her, "Have you ever been?"
"I'd never been to L.A. before now."
"Cool," Finn nodded contemplative, "I like that we get to do it together for the first time."
They parked and had to walk a long way, there were tents with street food. Santana would order in Spanish and get him to try samples of like everything, there was this taro kind of texture, she said it was plantains, mixed in salty garlic with chucks of pork and crackling on the top. Finn was in heaven.
The next was kind of like a biscuit, but not. Santana said it was ripe plantains fried until they are sweet inside. Amarillos.
Another tent had a huge spit going with coals underneath slow roasting a whole pig with crispy skin outside and soft meat that was so tender it fell apart on the fork.
"This is a traditional Puerto Rican dish, mi Abuela makes this, it's called Lechón asado," Santana held up a fork full and he opened wide since his hands were full of other samples.
The skin was crunchy and salty, and had a bit of a kick, peppers, oregano, maybe vinegar.
"Abelita's is much better, but still. It's good, right?" Santana was looking at him, expectant.
"So good," He could hardly manage to say because his mouth was still full.
Santana got him to try a spicy rice and beans dish that was too chilli hot for him, and Finn just about had to spit it out. She looked amused, like she was testing him. He drank water, but that just seemed to make it worse.
"You're diluting your saliva," Santana said, shaking her head.
Lots of people were just walking around in shorts and T-shirts, and some people had on Brazil Soccer jerseys, or Sombreros, there was a mariachi band. Santana kept pointing out where it was clearly gimmicky and not authentic, to downright insulting.
They slowly made their way to Grand Park, where there was a stage and lots of people watching, and dancing to the contemporary Latin music. Some was jazz, some was more hip-hop fusion. It was nice. As it got to be later afternoon, Santana wanted to dance. Finn not so much.
"Latin dancing is really different to what we do in show choir," Santana commented, "It's more about feeling the music, than kick-ball-change."
"I'm pretty sure, I can't do either," Finn objected.
Santana offered, "Let me show you what I mean."
There was live music and a big band of lots of instruments Finn had never seen and bongos and other metallic sounding percussion started to play.
"I love this song, it's Sergio Mendes," Santana said, to Finn's blank expression. "'Magalenha'," As if that was supposed to mean something to him, "It's a Samba rhythm."
The song had strong percussion, like tapping on a metal drum, maybe a triangle? It was followed by large drums, like a timpani, but hit with hands. He didn't understand a word of the lyrics but it sounded really festive and sensual.
"I'm not gonna teach you how to Samba, Finn," Santana spoke authoritatively, "Just sway with me."
She held him in close, her hands met at the back of his neck and he held her waist. She moved with the beat, side to side with her hips, encouraging him to match her movement.
"Follow my lead," She said.
Finn tried to be all loose and carefree and in time to the beat as she was. He was failing miserably. She was more dancing sexily around him. And Finn could see about 20 guys eyeing Santana wondering what the fuck she was doing with him. Finn decided to sit and watch her. But Santana insisted. The next song was one he recognized from the radio, but only stations that play hits from the 80s and 90s.
"Lambada," Santana smiled, "this is perfect."
Finn wasn't sure at all.
"It's about being lose and just feeling the rhythm."
She had him bend his knees, and she put one thigh between his legs, and so they were kind of interlocked, and they held each other close and then she sort of swayed her hips sideways, while taking tiny steps, barely moving anywhere, just swapping her weight from one foot to the other. It had the effect of looking like you were bobbing up and down but in a very… evocative way.
Finn could see other couples doing it, a lot of them older. But, he could see what she meant, it was about passion not technique.
This is basically sex. But standing with clothes on. "It's very… suggestive," he commented.
Santana chuckled at his obvious discomfort, cocking her eyebrow, "Well, it is called the forbidden dance." She pulled on his hand to get his attention, "Forget everything else," She instructed, "Close your eyes."
Which he did.
"Now just try to feel it," Santana instructed.
There was some kind of piano accordion, and bongos. There was something striking about the music, jovial but also sad. Not that he really understood, since the lyrics were in Spanish. And he'd basically forgotten everything from that class.
"Just be loose, and let me guide you."
And Finn did, he listened and moved when he felt her pushing, or pulling.
"That's good, Finn!" She whispered into his ear, because her cheek was almost grazing his.
"What are the words?" He was curious.
"It's how this guy who didn't appreciate the woman he had, leaves crying because he finds out she's moved on, and all he has now are the memories."
Finn opened his eyes, and nodded, "It makes sense, the music, the tune, you can hear that it's about longing."
Santana was impressed, he could see it in her face. She smiled, and said to try it again. They did find a rhythm together and to the beat of the drums. One of his hands was low on her back, he could feel all the movement of her hips, how naturally it seemed to come to her. His other hand was holding her hand, their bodies were so close and he could feel her heat. With the close proximity of their… ahem… groins, it also got pretty awkward on his end.
"Looser, like floppy," Santana said of his body, "it's not like other dances, you have a frame, but you have to relax."
And it was quite fast the stepping and swaying as one, that kind of made the whole dance appear as thrusting. Finn was getting hot and bothered again.
This is what attempting to go slow with Santana Lopez looks like.
Santana made a bridge with their hands, and twirled under, encouraging him to touch her waist with his other hand, then she went back the other way. Then she repeated it. By the third time he was ready for her.
"I'm gonna dip," Santana announced mere moments before she leaned backwards.
Finn didn't even have time to overthink how he was going to drop her, he got his arm in behind her for support, and braced himself. She did it slowly and elegantly, right back.
She's so beautiful.
Then the bridge was finished and they were back to the hip thrusting and quick stepping again as the song came to its conclusion.
An older woman got their attention by clapping loudly, and spoke to Santana. Santana went over and they appeared to be swapping numbers. When Santana came back she showed Finn a video the woman had filmed of them dancing.
"She said my tall, handsome, sweetheart dances well."
Finn waited for Santana to say 'psyche' or something, because she had to be poking fun, he was a terrible dancer and everyone knew it. Even with booty camp, he'd gone from one star out of ten to 2.5!
But she didn't appear to be joking, and Santana played the video that had been sent to her phone.
"You're better when you don't think about it and just feel the music," She held the screen up to him.
Finn watched closely. He had to admit they actually did look really good together, in time, but mostly, just, hot! Santana's dress would fan out when she twisted, revealing well up her thighs. And at one point she had him dip her backwards slowly, that was very erotic. His attempts not to drop her meant he'd gotten really low, and leaning over such that his face seemed to land in her bust then slowly trace down to her stomach. He did feel a tinge of pride seeing it. It was certainly much better than he would have thought.
Finn suggested a rest. They drank Sangria and watched the sunset. It was really nice, and he liked that she was including him in her culture.
"Were you born in Puerto Rico?" Finn asked as they sat on long stools near the street vendor tents sipping their cocktails from long glasses with mini umbrellas.
"No, I was born in Ohio, but everyone else in my immediate family was."
"When did they move?"
"When Angel was about two," She said, before adding, "my second brother."
"And your oldest brother?"
"He's 2 years older than Angel, Carlito. He's an accountant. Married. Boring."
"What's Angel doing?"
"He finished a business degree last year at Ohio State," before adding, "He's working in insurance."
"What do your parents think about you pursuing performing?" He asked.
"My Mom understood why I wanted to, of course, but she kept trying to warn me how hard it is out here."
"And your… do you call him your dad? Is that who you mean when you are talking about your father?"
"Yeah," Santana said quietly, "he's a crap father, but he's the only one I have," Santana sighed, "He wanted me to go to college, get qualified to 'do a real job'," Santana held up her fingers making air quotes to animate her storytelling, "so I'll have something to fall back on when my pipe dreams are ultimately dashed."
"Did he really say it like that?"
"That's what he meant," Santana smirked, "He actually couldn't give two shits what I do. Which is good."
She shrugged it off as if she wasn't hurt by any of it, which obviously wasn't true. But Finn left it at that.
"Why do they still live in Lima Heights Adjacent?" Finn asked.
"Because that's where Lima stashes it's ethnics," Santana shot back.
"I just meant, your dad's a doctor, can't you guys afford to move?"
"Not in the beginning we couldn't," Santana said, "He wasn't qualified here and his English wasn't good enough. They struggled pretty hard the first ten years. And by the time we could afford it, well, I guess we kind of like our little slice of Puerto Rico in Ohio." She shrugged.
"That makes sense," Finn agreed. He wanted to ask to meet them, but stopped himself.
Finn just couldn't seem to help himself, "Maybe now that he's had some time, your biological dad would like to… get to know you?" Finn suggested, "Maybe you caught him by surprise Junior Year."
Santana drained her glass slowly, clearly considering it.
Finn kept at the encouragement, "What's his name? What's his band called?"
"Why? So, you can track him down," Santana got defensive.
"He's out there," Finn responded, "this person who loves music, who you might have a lot in common with who… might want to have some kind of a relationship with you."
"Finn!" She was annoyed, "Just stop, okay. You can't fix this!"
But he couldn't stop himself, "What about your abuela?"
"What about her!" Santana snapped.
"It's been well over a year now, maybe if you try calling her…"
"Nothing's changed, she doesn't want to talk to me," Santana was speaking louder now as she got more annoyed, "The first thing she'll want to know is if I'm still a lesbian, and…" Santana's face changed, "Oh, that's it, you think I'll tell her I have a boyfriend now and all will be forgiven?"
Finn shrugged, "I don't know."
"She doesn't accept me," Santana repeated, "she's the one that needs to change. Not me!"
Finn backed right off that. He hadn't thought through the suggestion to reach out to her grandmother.
"Finn, what are you trying to do here? Organize a fucking family reunion for me?!"
"No, I just…"
"What?"
"You don't have…" much support.
Santana snapped, "I can take care of myself!"
"I know you can," Finn raised his hands in surrender, "I just want to help, you've helped me so much."
Santana calmed a bit, and finished her drink, and asked him if he wanted another. Finn said 'no', he'd happily be the designated driver. Santana strolled off to get another Sangria, signifying that this conversation was now clearly over. She drank the next glass of dark red liquor far too fast.
"Let's dance some more," Santana was pulling him up before she'd even spoken.
The sun had set and there were tea lights, and chains of lamps lighting up the streets of all different colors. There were still so many people about. Finn agreed and they cuddled for a slow song.
"This song is off my mom's favorite album," Santana told him as he held her close.
"I don't know it," He admitted.
"It's old, I wouldn't expect you to," Santana rested her chin on his shoulder, "Salli Terri is a mezzosoprano like my mom, and that's Laurindo Almeida on the Spanish guitar."
It was beautiful, almost haunting. The sound was otherworldly.
"Pavane, op 50," She named the song.
He whispered "thank you," He meant for sharing. This was hard for her and she was really trying.
Santana leaned in and kissed him. Just a peck. And Finn reciprocated. And soon they weren't so much dancing as just making out in public. He kept his hands to her back, and she was more or less being PG-13 about her ministrations as well.
The song finished and she broke away from him, opening her eyes.
"Please, Finn," Was all she said.
She wants me to take her home and stay the night.
He wanted to, but he knew it would just be making the same mistake twice.
"Let's get out of here," He suggested.
Santana smiled wickedly. Finn could barely remember where she'd parked, and then he had to get the keys off her. Santana was quite drunk. Finn had heard his mom say of Sangria that it crept up on you. You felt fine one moment, then you'd go to get up and fall over. She was swaying on her low heels.
Finn held the door open and helped her in, without Santana being snarky about it. She put the window down and was holding her arm out, feeling the wind through her fingers as he drove. He stopped at lights and she yelled something at a pedestrian. Finn wasn't sure if she was in a good mood or a bad mood.
Santana finally put the window up.
"Did you have funnn?" She slurred.
"Yeah," He smiled taking his eyes off the road briefly to glance at her, "I did."
"So, are you my boyfriend now?" Santana asked, "or am I still on probation?"
"I'm your boyfriend, and this isn't punishment," Finn explained, "I'm trying to make our relationship stronger."
That was met with a long silence.
"Are you already to be sexxxyyy?" She asked, "for your big scene tomorrow."
"I think so."
"You know what helps you feel sexy…" Santana was clearly steering this conversation into the gutter, "…having hot sex."
He was determined to ignore all her attempts at getting him to do the deed with her. But he was willing to help her get into bed, since she was more than a little tipsy. However, there was one way he wouldn't mind taking the slight advantage.
"What's your father's name again? The sax player?"
"What?"
"What's his name? You're mom's old boyfriend?"
"Finnnnn!" Santana let her annoyance show that he was trying to revisit this topic, "He's a fucking prick!" Before adding, "Like all the other men in my life!"
"Except for me, right?" Finn jibed.
"Except for you," She begrudgingly conceded.
"And Mr Schue."
"And Mr Schue," She repeated.
"There's hope for us Y chromosomes, yet," He grinned boyishly.
Santana fiddled with the radio for a bit, but wasn't happy when she only found talking on every station. Eventually smacking the off button in disgust.
"Desmond Ortega Jr," She suddenly told him the information he sought.
"And his band?"
"The Orfeu Negro."
"Or-foo Negra?"
She laughed, "Orfeu Negro, it means 'Black Orpheus'."
There was another long silence.
She crossed her arms, "He doesn't give a ssshhit," Her voice conveyed more than anger though, there was pain.
The rest of the drive was silent.
)))))))
They were back at Mercedes' house now, and he was parking.
Santana finally said, "You do what you're gonna do," She slurred, "but if he doesn't want to see me, I don't wanna know about it."
With that she slammed the door.
He walked her in, and helped her change and brush her teeth, and he made her drink a big glass of water. Santana clearly had other plans, she pounced on his lips, kissing him while backing him into her room.
Finn raising his hands in passive resistance, "This isn't taking things slow."
"The sex wasn't the pprrroblem…" She whined. "The problem's that you still love that fucking…" Santana paused to think of an insult.
Finn took the opportunity to pick her up over his shoulder and carry her into the bedroom, and then leaned over to let her fall onto the mattress. Finn didn't want to fight and he didn't want to keep reminding her of the rules, that just seemed to piss her off, even though she'd agreed to it.
Before he could leave, she grabbed his hand, tugging him, "Stay."
What if she's really upset? I kept asking her about her bio dad.
Finn pulled up the covers, and laid on the outside of the bed. He leaned against her, so he was her big spoon. Santana wanted to turn over on her side towards him so they could kiss, but Finn held her, and kept kissing her neck to discourage her.
"Finn," Santana said, "come here." She tried to roll onto her back, so she could pull him down on top of her.
He indulged her a little, she turned enough to get her mouth to his. They kissed slowly, but he wasn't letting it go any further. Santana kept trying to take his jacket off and unbutton his shirt. He eventually interwove their fingers to hold her hands still.
He laid over her more and more, and it was comforting, and nice and sweet and full of heat too. In a rare moment she broke contact to catch her breath, Finn took the opportunity to ask more questions.
"Do you ever think about where you want to end up? Like best case scenario."
"I don't know," She dismissed it honestly, "it's hard to think like that."
Finn queried it, "How do you go after what you want if you can't even admit you want it?"
She shrugged, "I don't know, sometimes I imagine being famous, and I have fans who recognize me and I've won awards, and I think I've always wanted to do it all you know, acting, singing, dancing."
Finn listened and wondered what that dream looked like.
"You?" She asked, half dozing off by now.
"I don't know either, I just have a vague sense that I'm performing, and I love it, I love the rush."
Finn kept a firm hold of Santana, and gently kissed her but it didn't take long to hear her slowed breathing, and cute snoring noises.
))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))
Finn woke at what seemed to be the middle of the night with his phone alarm going off somewhere, not close enough to reach.
He felt Santana stirring next to him. He found the offending instrument in his jacket pocket on the floor near the bed eventually. It was pitch black. And that was his alarm. And he felt way too tired. He got himself organized. Santana rolled over and said something about a splitting headache. He found her some aspirin and offered her more water.
Once Santana was functioning enough, she went through the bathroom scene again with him, the way they'd practiced it on Friday. He kissed her good bye, walked the couple of blocks home and frantically got changed. He didn't run that morning, Finn decided to do lots of sit ups instead. But nothing was quite getting rid of his nerves.
))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))) Santana POV))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))0
Santana was lazing on the couch at midday, with a still pounding head. So much for not getting messy! Why does Finn always have to be up in my business! Just because he's a girl who likes talking about his feelings all the time! Other than her overdoing it, she felt the date had gone well, and that he was letting her back in. She really wished he'd lighten up on the 'no sex yet' thing, though, because she was about ready to explode.
Her phone rang. The screen displayed 'Lumps'. I really need to change that.
"Did you forget something?" Santana asked, because Finn didn't often call her when he was working.
He sounded panicked, "I can't do this!"
"What's going on, Finn?"
"Well, there's like… twenty, middle-aged men standing around holding cameras and microphones and lights, all looking bored while I'm stepping out of a fake shower, sopping wet in a towel and trying to look sexy."
"Oh," She hadn't thought of that.
"The director's being polite, but every take he just keeps saying, 'okay, let's try that again'" Finn's voice became angry scared, "Because I suck!"
"No, it's okay," She desperately tried to think of something encouraging or a solution or anything to help him. He needs to find his mojo. "My mom once told me, the main thing you need as an actor, is an imagination."
She knew he was listening intently, but he remained silent on the other end.
"Close your eyes," She said, "you need to be able to block it all out, they aren't there, it's just you and me in the bathroom, like we were on Friday. Nothing. Else. Matters."
Finn was calming down, "It's just you and me. Nothing else matters."
She smiled, "It's just you and me back in that motel room after the reception…"
She let him start imagining the fantasy. "It's your birthday, and I have asked you what you want for your present and you say…"
She waited to let him conjure up his desire. Finn didn't seem to know what she was doing at first.
She kept encouraging him, "You can make any sexy request of me you want…"
Finn took his time, "I can magically afford to take you out to a fancy restaurant, where they have like table clothes and waiters on standby to fill up your wine glass every time it gets low."
"Sounds nice," Santana kept prodding him to continue, "we eat a beautiful meal together and then…"
"We go for a drive above the Hollywood Hills and look out at all the lights."
He's such a girl! Santana rolled her eyes. Get to the sex!
She didn't get a chance to say anything though, because Finn spoke again, "And we talk about stuff, like life, what we want, and you turn to me, and without teasing or joking or being sarcastic or snarky, you tell me that you love me."
Santana just about dropped the phone. This is not the point of the exercise! Trust Finn Hudson to FUCK UP talking dirty!
"… and I feel so happy and I tell you 'I love you too' and we kiss under the stars, and I feel really close to you, and like everything is falling into place…"
Finn was pouring his heart out for God knows what reason, and Santana was checking her watch and thinking she really needed to be someplace else.
He had no idea on the other end, "And you're really happy… like maybe you just found out you landed a TV show, like a romantic comedy or something, playing the mean girl who makes snide comments at all the nerds," Finn added.
His fantasy involves me getting a job that would make me happy?
Santana covered her mouth on the other end of the line. Deep breaths, come on, you can do this.
Finn was none the wiser, "and then I take you back to the fancy motel, in my dream it's a Marriott, I looked into renting one of those honeymmm… fancy suites once," He said.
Why would he have rented a honeymoon suite?
He means with Rachel.
Santana remained silent, at least he was getting to the sex now.
"Maybe we order champagne and the room is really nice, like it's all white and matching, with satin pillow cases on the bed and those little mints… and there's like… a bath tub, and I run the water and we get in together and you let me wash your body."
I don't deserve you.
"I want to wash your hair, is that weird?" He suddenly asked, "Like massage your scalp and have the shampoo like foaming through my fingers. Anyway, you're in my arms, leaning against my chest…"
"That sounds really nice," She hoped he couldn't hear her voice cracking with emotion.
"Anyway, once we've had lots of fun in the bath and made this big mess that I don't have to worry about cleaning up…" Finn spoke like a working-class kid who'd never allowed themselves to dream too big, "we get in the massive bed, and we feel all fancy and carefree and everything, and then we make love."
She tried to control her breathing because her eyes were stinging too.
No wonder you can't fake sexual attraction with a stranger.
Finn Hudson, you're too good for this world!
Finn was still laying out his dream, "and it's really nice, and we both enjoy it, and I like staring into your eyes, and I can feel that you love and trust me and I feel the same about you. And that's what makes it better."
There was a long silence.
"Santana?" Finn asked now, "you still there?"
"Yeah."
"You know, it is my birthday and your birthday really soon, maybe we could do that for real?" Finn suggested, "I can afford it, since this show, somewhere halfway decent, anyway."
Santana genuinely didn't know what to do, she needed to remind him to focus, because he still needed to prepare for his scene, she couldn't commit to a date like that and she just wanted to be someplace else because she felt like she couldn't breathe.
"Did I freak you out?" Finn realized what the problem was, "I'm not trying to rush you, we don't have to do that yet…"
So, she just decided to ignore everything that was too much right now, and get back to the task at hand, "So we're in that big bed at the Marriot, am I on top, or are you?"
"You are, then I am," He explained.
"Okay, let's go from there," Santana steered the conversation, "I'm naked and I'm straddling your hips, and your big cock is hard in my hand as I work my fingers up and down your length."
"What are you doing right now?"
Even though she knew that wasn't what he meant, she lowered her voice to seductive, "I'm naked and touching myself thinking about how badly I want you…"
He got annoyed, "No, I mean, I'm telling you 'I love you', and you're trying to have phone sex with me."
"I was trying to help you… with the scene," She replied, weakly, knowing it was a completely inadequate thing to say.
He sighed on the other end of the phone. "I'll do what you said, thanks for the advice," Finn said, clearly wrapping up the conversation, "I better go."
"Good luck," Was also she managed to say before he hung up.
Fuck!
I blew it!