Disclaimer: Don't own anything except for my story idea.
Author's notes: Thanks again for the lovely reviews. I'm glad that so many of you are liking it. Keep on R&Ring.
Finn Hudson was turning into an irreconcilable jerk. He was cranky all the time and he was taking it out on everyone else. Rachel had tried to talk to him about Glee club earlier on in the day and he had promptly told her to fuck off, leaving her open mouthed as he turned away before she started spewing a whole lot of words at him that he didn't understand, like contemptible. Finn was pretty sure that he'd been acting contemptible with just about everyone lately. He didn't even know why. Maybe he was still angry at Santana.
He wasn't sure why he was even upset at her, but she had really hurt him when she told him that they couldn't be friends anymore. Or scratch that, she had basically said that they'd never been friends in the first place. Quinn had turned out to be completely right about her. Santana was nothing more than a bitch. Even when he said it in his head, he didn't believe it. She was intense, sure, and most of the time she scared the crap out of him, but when they were hanging out, just the two of them, she was different. It was like she let the concrete wall she had up at all times crumble a little. Sometimes, he even made her laugh. Finn liked Santana when she was like that – when it was just the two of them. When she didn't have to worry about being the head bitch in charge, or wear her hair up in a ponytail. She never told him, but she knew that she wasn't as confident as she seemed to be when she was in school. She checked herself out in the mirror the way Quinn used to when her baby bump started to show a bit. Like she was just sitting there trying to find every little imperfection. It wasn't really something that Finn had noticed consciously, it was just that Santana was often distracted by her own reflection, like she forgot the rest of the world existed. Finn, being the mostly patient person that he was, always waited for her to come back down to planet Earth. Which, okay, wasn't hard when he got to stare at her without her watching.
You had to be stupid not to notice that Santana was gorgeous. Everything about her appearance was perfect. Lately, Finn had just started noticing it a little more. Maybe because he wasn't so worried about saying or doing the wrong thing around her. Even when he accidentally made her furious, she only yelled at him once out of every four times. Every other time she'd just roll her eyes at him, huff, or swear in Spanish. Santana liked to make it seem like she was this impenetrable fortress of hate and snark, but Finn knew differently. He had only seen brief moments of it, but he knew that most of who Santana was was just a front. When she got talking about the right subject, like wanting to cheer for the Dallas Cowboys (which he could totally see happening) or wanting to spend a whole summer in Mexico with her grandparents, there was a little flicker in her eyes and her rare grin was so big that the corners of her eyes wrinkled up just slightly. Finn felt like she was letting him in on some kind of secret, like he was getting to see something no one else ever got to see, and in those moments, he liked Santana, like...a lot. A lot.
But he didn't like her as she'd been over the last few days, and frankly, he was pretty pissed. Considering that they'd only started hanging out because of her, he thought it was unfair that she just cut it off in the way that she had. It felt like they'd broken up or something, even if they'd never been together. He'd gotten just as mad. His hand was still bruised from when he'd punched it into the hood of his car and he'd gotten even more upset by the fucking huge dent that he was going to have to pay to get banged out. Santana owed him an explanation. Damn it, they were friends, whether she wanted to admit it or not, and she owed it to him to explain why she suddenly wanted that to stop.
Maybe it wouldn't have been so bad if she hadn't wanted to be friends but she had ignored him. But she hadn't. Instead, she seemed to go out of her way to be an even bigger bitch to him than she'd ever been and that was what was really pissing Finn off. If she didn't want them to be friends anymore, fine, he would have to deal with it, but he couldn't deal with her acting like the last couple of weeks hadn't happened. Finn didn't quite understand why it bothered him so much, but it did and he was starting to act out with everyone.
His anger, however, seemed to have one good side effect. It seemed like he was channeling his rage into his sports playing, because he had been on fire lately. The team hadn't won any games still, but Finn's playing had definitely gotten better. He had been scoring more and making better passes. Basically, he had finally earned his spot as the team captain. And, as had become his usually, lately, he was doing well again. They were in half-time and Coach Tenaka looked ready to cry, he was so happy. Finn wasn't really paying attention to what he was saying, he was just in his own head, as usual. It wasn't like what the coach said usually ever helped them win games, anyways. Getting up from his seat on the bench, Finn smacked some of the other guys on the back in the bro-like way that all guys did, thinking about the game and the fact that if he really did well in the second half of the game, they'd actually have a shot at this thing. It would be the first game that the basketball team would win in three years.
Despite the fact that Santana was cheering on the sidelines and could totally have been a distraction, Finn kept his game face on and tried not to focus on her or their... argument. Finn refused to believe that their friendship could just be over like that, but he had to focus on winning a game. They could do this. He just had to make a couple of decent plays. He wasn't sure where his newfound confidence was coming from, but he liked it, and it seemed to be contagious. As he was playing better, the other guys seemed to get their mojos going too, and when the final bell sounded, sure enough, victory had gone to McKinley. After loud cheering and fist pumping with the guys, everyone went off to show some love to their respective girls. Quinn was waiting for Puck at the bottom of the stairwell, Brittany pretty much attacked Mike. Finn felt like the odd man out, but he'd never felt that way more than he did when his eyes locked with a familiar pair of brown ones for a split second. It was only a split second, but it felt like forever, then Santana seemed to remember that they apparently weren't friends, and turned around to one of the few other Cheerios who weren't macking on a player.
Watching her, Finn knew why he'd been so upset. He didn't want to be one of the only guys not kissing a girl, and he didn't want to kiss just any girl. He wanted to run over to Santana, pick her up and spin her around and kiss her, then listen to her bitch and whine about how it was about time that he won a game, because he knew that was what she'd do. I like Santana...shit. By the time that he looked her way, she was packing up her things to go and he was being unceremoniously shoved in the direction of the locker room. Normally, Finn would have taken a shower before driving home, but that day, he just cleared out his locker, slung his backpack over his shoulder and made a break for the parking lot. He didn't know what kind of car Santana drove – or if she even knew how to drive, but he just knew that he had to find her. He didn't know if he was going to tell her that he liked her or not. Honestly, he wasn't even sure what he was doing...but that was really nothing new for him.
Luckily, Santana was pretty easy to spot. Her hair was the darkest of all the Cheerios and he'd be able to pick her out of a crowd now anyday. "Santana!" he called, jogging at a leisurely pace as she was sticking her bag in the back of her trunk. "'Tana," he repeated, bringing himself to a stop behind her.
When Santana turned around, Finn was pretty sure he'd of been dead if it was possible. She looked like she wanted to kill him or kick his ass or something. It caught Finn off guard because no matter what he had said or done to her in the past, she had never looked like that. He froze for a second. Maybe he should have gone into this with an idea. "What do you w-"
Finn Hudson was a guy driven by his impulses. He'd kissed Rachel Berry on impulse in the auditorium. He'd agreed to Santana's request on impulse. And now, he was silencing her before she had a chance to be her bitchy, fake self. With his lips. Finn pushed her back against the bumper of her car and pressed his lips to hers firmly, one hand moving to her waist and the other resting on the hood of her car. At first, Santana starting hitting his chest, but after a second, he felt her melt against his lips and her hands clutched at the fabric of his shirt as her lips moved against his. He'd kissed her before, but he actually meant it this time. He had almost forgotten how her lips felt, but it didn't feel quite the same as the last time he'd kissed her. There was more passion and fire behind her kiss this time, and if he didn't know better, there was a hint of anger there too. Finn was pretty sure he heard some gasping behind him somewhere, but he didn't care. He was too caught up in the fact that for the first time in a long time, he felt like he was exactly where he was supposed to be and doing what he wanted to do.
Santana was the one to pull back first, leaning back against the hood of her car and breathing heavily. She just looked up at him as if she didn't know what to say, so Finn decided to do the talking. "You can deny it all you want, but you know that we both wanted to do that in there," he said, which was actually quite a bold statement for him. He was looking for Santana to say something, but all she did was press her lips together and glare at him.
"You're unbelievable," Finn muttered, running his hand through his hair as she shook his head. "No wonder you never have a boyfriend, if this is how you act every time someone cares about you."
He could see, for the briefest of seconds, that his words had had some kind of an impact. He saw it in her eyes. He couldn't exactly place her expression, but it was there. Finn saw it. He had cracked the wall she had put up again. "Why do you always do this?"
"Do what?" Santana asked, letting go of his shirt and crossing her arms over her chest.
"Shut people out," Finn clarified, looking at her in the eye. Eye contact which she didn't try to break. Instead, she was trying to stare him down, but it wasn't going to work. After all, she was the one pinned up against her car and he was prepared for any kicks or punches she might have for him.
"I'm a bitch, remember?" Santana replied, pursing her lips at him and letting out a sound that was nearly a hiss. She narrowed her eyes at him but she made no attempt to push him away. That told Finn everything he really needed to know.
"You're not. Everyone thinks you are, but you're not. I know that," he reminded her, flashing her a half-smile before looking ahead, not really focusing on any one thing in particular.
"You don't know the first thing about me," Santana countered, shoving him gently so she could move towards the front. Finn followed her and put a hand on the car door. "What are you doing?" she inquired, narrowing her eyes at him.
"You're not leaving," he informed her, a determined look on his face.
"Yes, I am."
"Not til you tell me why you don't want us to be friends anymore," Finn insisted, leaning against the car door so she couldn't open it. Santana looked like she wanted to kill him, but Finn wasn't going to move. Not without some answers.
"Drop it, Finn," Santana insisted, crossing her arms over her chest, taking a step towards him, which Finn guessed was supposed to be her way of saying that she wasn't scared of him.
"You're scared," he retorted, keeping his hip against the door as his arms crossed over his chest. "You're scared of what people will say if we hang out because of your reputation. You don't want people to think we're friends because that means you won't be a bitch anymore."
"Don't analyze me, Hudson! You are so out of line!" Santana shouted, the venom dripping from her every word.
"No, I'm right," he insisted. "You think being friends with me is going to screw up the image you've worked so hard to build. But you're not the only one who gets a say in this!"
"Why not, Finn? It's not like you care, anyways. You're just butt hurt that you don't have someone to play video games with you anymore," Santana insisted, a determined look on her face as she tilted her head in the way that she always did when she was trying to look bitchy.
"You are unbelievable," Finn huffed, running a hand through his hair.
"No, you're unbelievable. Coming to me like this, pretending that you know me, like you want to know me," she countered.
"I do want to get to know you, Santana!" Finn shouted. "You just won't let me in. You don't let anyone in. You put up this wall all the time."
"Well maybe I like my wall. Maybe I like being a bitch!" Santana hissed, shoving him again, harder this time, so that he stumbled backwards slightly as she pushed her way into her car.
"Fine, you want to leave? Leave. But you can't avoid me forever, Santana. I don't give up that easy," Finn warned, frowning at her as she slammed her door shut and pulled out of her spot quickly, leaving him in a trail of dust. Watching her drive off, Finn kicked the gravel in the parking lot before making his way to his car. He was serious. He wouldn't give up that easily. Santana was exceptionally stubborn, but in this case, so was he. She could pretend that she didn't care as long as she wanted, Finn had seen that momentary crack and he wasn't going to stop until he made it happen again, because this time, he had a feeling that Santana wouldn't be able to put her wall back up.
