A/N: Future arc

He took in a lungful of air, panting heavily as he reached the last step. Picking an apartment on the fifith floor didn't seem like such a good idea anymore when the lift seemed to always be broken. No wonder they had gotten what he had thought to be a steal with the rent. When his heart stopped feeling like it was about to explode, he strode quickly out the entrance, bracing himself for more heavy load. He had already made the mental calculations. Six more trips and he would be done. Easier said than done. Finn groaned. He could only be grateful that he had given in to Rachel's incessant nagging and agreed to begin unpacking three days before they were supposed to move in. If it had been up to him and they had to move everything on the day itself, he would surely be dead by now. Honest to God, death by sheer exhaustion of climbing up five freaking flights of stairs carrying the many, many boxes that contained their whole lives.

He opened the door and stopped at the sight before him. Rachel was attempting to carry an impossibly large box for her size, a crazy, determined look gracing her features. She had one backpack slung across her back, and another one strapped across her front and a sling bag, swinging back and forth, hanging on her right elbow. He bit back his amused grin as he called out to her.

"Baby what do you think you're doing?" She looked up when she heard him and smiled brightly.

"Helping you." Finally having a good grip on the box, she moved to straighten up and wobbled slightly.

"You're not carrying that up to our apartment," he said as he hurried over to steady her. She frowned at him

"Finn Hudson I am perfectly capable of carrying our own belongings into our new home. More than half of these are mine."

"I know you are. Just not that box. It's too heavy." She made a noise of discontent as he easily took the box away from her. Rachel stomped her foot impatiently.

"If I don't help you then today is going to take forever and you're going to be exhausted once we're done! You know I intend on making this place as homey as possible by this evening."

"Exactly," he replied casually as he set the box down and ruffled her hair. She moved her head out of his reach obstinately. "Honey you're going to tip over if you carry this thing. And then I'm going to have to take you to the emergency room when you fall down the stairs and break your back and it's going to take even longer to get this place set up." She sighed in resignation. He couldn't help but grin affectionately at the sight of her and all those bags hanging off her small frame.

"You're right. I'm just too dainty for this kind of work. But Finn, just look at our things!" She gestured towards the open mouth of the van he had rented. Finn had to work on keeping the dismay away from his face. There were still a lot of boxes in there. Six trips worth of boxes.

"You just had to bring your whole childhood with you."

"I wasn't the one who brought over my entire collection of video games."

"No. But you did bring two huge boxes full of your medals and trophies since you were what, three months old?"

"Those are my accomplishments Finn! You know I need the motivation if I am going to go through the long-suffering road to stardom!"

"Yeah, but three months Rach? Really?"

"It reminds me that I was born a star. It's a metaphor."

"And metaphors are important, right?" he teased, grinning. She made a face at him and stuck out her tongue, her hand on her hips.

"Are you going to agitate me all day?" she asked haughtily, "Or are we actually going to try to get things done by the end of this decade?"

"But agitating you is so much fun. Okay, okay I'm sorry," he apologised, holding up his hands in surrender as she slapped his arm. "You take those bags. I'll take the boxes."

"I can carry more than this you know. Both of my hands are empty. Let me help you!" Finn scanned around the area before his gaze landed on her bedside lamp.

"Here you go," he said, shoving it into her arms. She looked at him witheringly.

"Your penchant at underestimating my strength is infuriatingly sexist and discriminating to my gender."

"Not your gender, only you." She stuck out her tongue at him one last time before swiftly turning on her heel and stalking up the stairs of the entrance. He laughed quietly to himself as he watched her.

Who would have guessed they'd get to this point in their lives? He certainly hadn't. Rachel Berry and Finn Hudson had graduated from high school almost six years ago, firmly sealing their status as high school sweethearts in the mind of every one of their peers. They thought they would be together forever. They were wrong. Rachel, as expected, had left Lima for the bright lights of New York City, paving her way to stardom, one college course at a time. Finn, unexpectedly, had graduated high school with enough credits to actually be accepted to college. But not in New York. Stll, they had been adamant to stay together, with him driving across more than five hundred miles of road to send her off.

In the course of their college career, they had broken up exactly three times. The first lasted for one week, when three months into college Rachel had, through some insane glitch in thought process, somehow came to the conclusion that 'group project' was code word for him having an illicit, adulterous affair with a blonde, blue-eyed classmate that hailed from Georgia, whose name he had completely forgotten by now. It lasted for a week, mainly because Finn had been unaware of their broken-up status until halfway through the week, when he had finally opened his Facebook page to find her relationship status to be single. He had immediately called her up, only to be received by her voicemail as he urgently asked her whether she was upset with him. In hindsight, not calling your girlfriend for three days and not noticing that she hadn't called you either because you were up to your skull in assignments, had probably helped him in screwing up the situation. He had ended up serenading her from her friend, Al's phone through the speakers in front of not only Al, but also her new roomate. Bryan Adams always did the trick.

The second time they broke up, it was for three days when they were both in their second year. The strain of being apart was taking a toll on the both of them and Rachel, high-strung on her heavy workload and menstruation pills, had called him up one night to weepily dump her sorrows on him. It had to be the night before his big Economics test. Needless to say, the call had ended disastrously, with her screaming that she never wanted to see him again and him yelling that that would be just fine with him. One test and one completed menstruation cycle later, they had both sheepishly apologised for their behavior and Finn had driven his brand new second hand car up to New York for a mutually satisfying weekend that would have had to last them for at least a month.

The third time lasted for his whole final year. It all began with the big ugly F he had received for his Decision Science class the semester before. Convinced that he was going to end up a Lima loser for life, he had came up with what he had thought at the time was the best decision he could make for her. Finn didn't want Rachel to end up being saddled with a failure like him who could only be hindering her path to stardom. Therefore one night after absolutely no further thinking at all, he had called her up and gently told her that they were over. For good this time. Obviously, failing a class about the science of decision making had taught him nothing. She had cried, begged, yelled and provoked for two weeks straight, all to no avail.

He was adamant that if there was one thing he wasn't going to screw up, it was Rachel Berry and her dreams. Final year had been completely miserable as he went through two semesters of hell without Rachel Berry to call home. He figured out pretty quickly that casual dating just wasn't for him and that his taste was completely narrowed down to 5'2 brunette midgets with powerhouse vocals and a tendency for self-obsession. His lack of social life led him to work hard for his final two semesters, getting respectful grades that never fell below a B-. His second attempt at Decision Science had produced an A-. Through Al, he had received the occasional news of how she was doing and Rachel Berry had starred in two college productions of West Side Story and Little Shop of Horrors. As expected, she was thriving without him. It wasn't until the day he recieved his result for the final time and realized he was graduating with second class honors, that it hit him like a blow to the head that the only person he truly wanted to tell was Rachel Berry.

The next two days had been a blur of depression and drunken heartfelt confessions to his annoyed roomate who finally told him to either man the hell up and call her or stop being such a pathetic drunk. Finn had thrown an empty beer can at his head. He must have taken Tom's advice however, because the morning after, he had woken up with a huge hangover and Rachel Berry's number in his call list. Panicking, he read the numbers for a second time, confirming that no, he wasn't mistaken. Three months after he ended things, Finn had deleted her name from his phone because of his strong tendency to want to call her evey single time he scrolls past her name. Her actual number, however, had forever been imprinted in his mind. He could dial them in his sleep. And even in the state of being totally plastered, apparently. By that afternoon when nothing happened and she didn't call, he was stuck between feeling relieved and completely crushed.

Two days after that, he had returned to his room early, leaving Tom to fend for himself at Bobby Silverman's annual end-of semester bash because the sophomore that had been hanging off his arm the whole night had really started to bug the hell out of him. He knew something was wrong when he saw the door of their room was unlocked and slightly ajar. Kicking the door open to scare off whoever was inside, Finn was rendered shocked and stood stock-still when he found Rachel Berry perched primly on his bed, a startled look on her face. She had stood up immediately, losing her balance and almost tripping on her feet if his arm hadn't suddenly shot out of it's own accord to steady her. The abrupt contact had caused the both of them to jump and her head had collided against his chest. Apologizing profusely and extracting herself quickly, she moved away in embarrassment. He was still speechless.

Rachel went off into a tangent, stammering nervously about receiving his call and how he had apparently told her he missed her and wanted her to please, please get to where he was. He couldn't remember any of it, and the look on his face made it obvious. Her slightly hopeful face had fallen as she mutterd under her breath that she should have known he was too drunk to really mean them and that she was going to kill Al when she finds him. She looked up at him and he could see the tell-tale signs of her tears about to fall but it gave way to a cool and reserved expression as she told him that she was sorry for barging into his life and that she was leaving immediately. As she turned to leave he had panicked and strangled out a loud (and dramatic) no, reaching out to grab her shoulders frantically to keep her from leaving. Just because he couldn't remember, he told her, didn't mean he didn't mean every single word.

She had looked up at him then, looking as if she was afraid to believe him. The realization that Rachel Berry was in front of him and that she was real felt like being run over by a bus. She was there. Really, really there for real. Not just some sick, twisted figment of his imagination born out of the part of his mind that had refused to believe that she was already gone from his life. He will forever plead that it was a moment of insanity and desperation when he had roughly pulled her towards him, causing her to literally fall into his arms before he had bent down to kiss her with all the pent-up desire and emotion that had been bottled up within him for a year. The next thing he knew, he had her pressed up against the door with one hand under her shirt squeezing her side and the other holding her up firmly against him. He pulled away to find her looking completely dazed, with her eyes completely glazed over. When they finally cleared, she had looked him straight in the eyes, her gaze darkening considerably as she told him "Don't you dare pull away," and pulled his head down roughly to meet hers in a searing kiss. He complied without question. Tom had been effectively locked out of the room that night with the deadbolt he had never had the need for until that moment.

Things hadn't gone over as smoothly after that. After their passionate outburst of emotion had subsided, they had had a long talk where she had alternated from crying to beating the shit out of him for four straight hours. He was just glad she was still there. The following month had him basically groveling at her feet, doing anything and everything he could to gain back her trust and win her over. The latter wasn't so hard. The former was much harder. But it had all led to two months later where she stood proudly next to her mother at his graduation ceremony, wearing her old Team Finn t-shirt that she had for some reason brought to college with her. It was an inside joke that nobody else but the two of them would get even though his mom loved it and Burt had smiled, a bit bemusedly. When his name was called out and he strode on to the stage, she had let out the loudest wolf whistle he had ever heard, piercing the polite applause that went throught the audience. She had picked up a lot of new talent during their time apart. The photographer had caught him, mid-guffaw with his eyes crinkled at the corners as he was handed over his degree. She had made a small copy of the picture, croping out everything but him and stuck it in her wallet. She said that it was a symbol of how happy she made him and how happy he was going to be for the rest of his life, but only if he wouldn't stupid enough to let her go again. He agreed wholeheartedly.

Rachel had another six months of education and so he went back to Lima to help out Burt with his workshop. Temporarily, of course. On his free time, he sent out his resume to every single probable position he could to basically every company in New York. By the time her graduation rolled around, he was down to his hundredth interview and was wearily awaiting another rejection. He presevered at her insistence that he was going to be hired soon and that it was only a matter of time before she gets her first starring role because New York was where she was meant to be and he was meant to be wherever she was. By then they were both crashing with Al and his boyfriend at their apartment that was really meant for only two people. But the couple was amazing and didn't complain once. Al had struck gold apparently, landing a gig as a photographer for some famous magazine he didn't know the name of. His partner, John was a few years older and was working as a junior lawyer to some firm he should probably know too. He helped with the housework because he had sixteen years worth of experience as an only child to a single mother. She did the cooking, which was unfortunate. But after a few burnt meals, Rachel finally learned the art of making pasta without burning the noodles.

It wasn't until two months later when he found himself with not one, but two separate offers in the Human Resource department. The larger company paid a larger salary, but Rachel had suggested he went with the smaller one because she thought the building looked a little less intimidating. He agreed and found himself with an honest to God job. When Rachel landed a role in a play off off Broadway, they began to look for their own place. Al and John helped, having had the experience and the ability to bargain and slash rent rates like nobody's business.

Another two months and there they were, moving into their very first home, a place of their very own. They had both went back to Lima to pack up the rest of their things and maybe went a little overboard. By his fourth trip, Finn wondered where all his stamina as a football player went because his legs felt like jelly and his hands felt like lead. Rachel had obnoxiously told him that it served him right for being such an alpha male and he had reciprocated with a slap on her ass as he wearily told her to stop talking and start unpacking. An hour later, the last of the boxes finally found their way into the apartment and Finn leaned heavily against the closed door, his shirt sticking to his back , annoying the heck out of him. He took off his shirt and threw it on the floor as he slid down against the door. Before he could settle himself, she was already calling him.

"Finn I need your help with this!" He groaned tiredly, banging his head against the door. Couldn't she let him take a second to breathe? It was almost dark out, and she was probably upset that they didn't have the time to finish unpacking because there was no way in hell he could sum up any energy left within him to lift open a box.

"Just a minute. I can't move."

"Finnn!" she whined. "Now!" Sighing, he pushed away from the door and forced his tired body to comply as he walked slowly towards their soon-to-be bedroom. Rachel was nowhere to be found. Everything they owned were still in boxes, with a few things lying messily around like her clothes and some of his video games. He looked longingly at the mattress that had been pushed against the wall. The bed won't come until the next day.

"Baby? What do you want?"

"Close your eyes," he heard her say softly. He frowned at the toilet where her voice came from.

"Rachel?" he asked as he took a step towards her.

"Don't move! Just do as I say. Please baby?" He sighed witheringly and closed his was she up to now?

"Fine." He heard her bustling around the room and swore softly as she bumped against something, probably a box. He felt like he could fall asleep standing up. Finn felt her standing in front of him as she pushed herself up against his chest.

"You may open your eyes now," she whispered softly. He blinked his eyes open to find Rachel staring up seductively at him, her hands softly gripping his arms. He blinked again. He had never seen those set of lingerie before. Suddenly he wasn't so tired anymore.

"Where'd you get those?" he asked, his voice hoarse as her hands left his arms to rest on his bare chest.

"I had a little shopping trip with Al last week. It's your homecoming present. Do you like it?" He had her pressed up against their new wall in a matter of seconds, his hands roaming all over the material of her new weapon of seduction and his lips glued to her neck as she giggled breathlessly.

"I take it that's a yes?" she asked softly, her breath hitched against her throat as his lips hovered warmly over her pulse point.

"That's a hell yeah," he mutterd darkly against her lips as he captured them with his own. It took a whole incredibly gratifying hour, but they finally made it to the edge of their new mattress. He pushed her and she fell back against the mattress, her body bouncing twice as she tried to catch her breath. She reached out a hand for him, her gaze never straying from his. He took it and followed her lead, lying on top of her and adjusting for a second before their bodies fell into place. As he leaned his head down towards her, she reached up and circled her arms around his neck, pulling herself up until her mouth rested against his ear.

"Welcome home Finn," she whispered.