Maybe Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more.
[FINN SAID TO TELL YOU THAT THE RATING ON THIS CHAPTER HAS BEEN UPGRADED TO 'M' AND THAT HE TAKES FULL RESPONSIBILITY FOR THAT! :-D
This one got away from me a little bit - CHAP TITLE INCLUDED - and turned into what should prob be a standalone fic... it's *sort of a fixit* for 2x10 A VERY GLEE CHRISTMAS, but really, it's an AU fic filling the gap over the untelevised winter break. But i'm posting it here anyway :-P lol So... The tree lot 'official breakup' has already happened and school is out til the new year. In true Rachel Berry fashion, she is spending her break cleaning and purging (and crying). Her impact on Finn is obvious since he's at his place doing the same. They each find a bunch of things that the other left behind at their respective homes, which of course should be returned to their rightful owner – it's the business of settling a broken relationship; the return exchanging of stuff, right? But ofc this story is being told in a FIXIT FIC... so... Let's FIXIT, shall we?
MANY THANKS TO BECKS FOR TALKING ME OFF THE LEDGE DURING A FEW CRAZY BRAIN MOMENTS WHILE WRITING THIS... AND TO ALL YOU BRAVE READERS, SORRY IN ADVANCE FOR THE 2-BOX (OF TISSUES) ANGSTY RIDE THAT LIES AHEAD... HOPE YOU ENJOY IT ANYWAY!]
—-
December 20th - Day One.
BUZZ BUZZ *New message from: MySexyGoldStar
: I found your red Converse in my closet. I know they're your favorite pair and assume you'd like them back. I can drop them off or you can come pick them up. If it's a problem, I can leave them out on the back porch. That way you don't even have to see me.:
He sighs, tossing his phone across the bed in a huff. Looking at the caller ID he realizes he should probably change her contact name. Or delete it. But he isn't ready to do that, and he can't remember how to update her caller ID name. It was painful enough to change his splash screen to a Christmas theme. Now instead of seeing Rachel's gorgeous dazzling face pressing a kiss to his cheek at his parents' wedding, he has to see Will Ferrell in tights wearing a damn elf getup. Whatever. It's better than the stupid Charlie Brown slipping on a football scene that was there a couple weeks ago. He cusses under his breath at his stupid phone still holding evidence of their stupid love.
He also isn't ready to see her or be anywhere near her orbit, but those ARE his favorite shoes, and he has been wondering where they disappeared to. And she did offer a no-contact option...
: ur back porch is fine, b there in 20 mins :
Maybe he should take back the pile of her hairbands and scrunchies he collected from all over his room. He gathers them up and tosses them into an old Save-A-Lot bag (well okay, all except the purple one with the gold stars... she doesn't need to know he still has it).
When he arrives at the Berry house, his hackles are up. It's kinda like his spidey senses, only it's his Rachel Radar. He knows she's in there and just knowing she's that close is making his body react even if he doesn't want it to. (Being all heartbroken and pissed off as hell doesn't automatically mean he stopped loving her; he still loves her, he just also kind of hates her right now too, and the juxtaposition is fucking with his head and his blood pressure.)
He takes note of all the cars in her driveway. Looks like her dads are home? That's good, at least she isn't spending her entire winter break alone. Not that he cares. Because he doesn't.
Sighing annoyedly at his own stupid worrying conscience, he grabs the plastic bag (the contents of which he'd never admit he'd stuffed his nose into to take a long, last whiff of her delicious Rachel hair smells) and slips out of his truck, then quickly makes his way through the gate and to the back porch, finding a box with his name on it (he pretends not to notice the gold star sticker she placed next to his name). He pulls the flaps apart and peeks inside. Seeing the shoes are there, he grabs the whole carton, drops the bag in its place and bolts back to his truck.
Before he pulls out of her driveway, he shoots off a quick text.
: got em. left a bag of your hair crap :
As he pulls into his own driveway a few minutes later he notices her return message.
: Thank you, Finn. I appreciate you taking the time to locate and return these. You didn't have to, so just, thank you. :
Only when he gets back to his room does he find a foil wrapped bundle of banana bread inside the box. The center is still warm and he eats the entire loaf in record time while cussing, crying and listening to Journey in the middle of his bed.
. . . . .
December 21st - Day Two.
BUZZ BUZZ **New message from: MyHotDrummerBoy
:: your Evita CD, blue gloves w snowflakes, hello kitty umbrella & blueberry lip balm were in my truck :
Waking up at 7 a.m. she was a little surprised to see his text message which had been received hours earlier. It was very unlike Finn to even be awake so early in the morning, let alone texting her... unless maybe he hadn't slept at all?
She was a little disappointed that he didn't comment on the banana bread. She'd made a special batch just for him (including chocolate chips, which her fathers don't care for; only Finn likes chocolate chips in her banana bread), and it was still baking in the oven when she texted him about the shoes yesterday.
Was it too much for her to expect the simple courtesy of a thank you?
She wonders if he even noticed it? Maybe he hadn't opened the box yet. Rachel had kind of hoped to bring the bread to his house as a holiday peace offering. Perhaps if his mother was around, she would serve as a buffer and probably invite her inside to chat, because Carole Hudson Hummel was always just polite and hospitable that way. She always made Rachel feel a little less sad about not having a mother of her own to greet her so warmly.
But then the dried tear tracks on her face were refreshed with the thought that Carole probably hates her by now anyway for breaking her son's heart in the most deplorable way possible.
Maybe the no-contact pick-up arrangements were for the best after all.
: I'll be seeing Kurt later if you'd like to give them to him? I'm sure he wouldn't mind. :
As desperate as she was just to lay eyes on him, she knew Finn wasn't ready to see her yet. Picturing the devastated look on his face when she'd kissed him at the tree lot was still ripping her heart to pieces and she hated herself for making him feel this way.
Maybe the winter break and space apart from each other would do them both some good. Maybe absence really does make the heart grow fonder and he'd be happier to see her when they return to school in January. A new year could mean new beginnings.
: whatever :
Yeah right. And maybe Rabbi Kaplan would serve bacon wrapped pork chops at Temple next Shabbat.
Closing the screen with his latest incredibly curt response, she blinked away even more fresh tears and sighed.
. . . . .
Later that evening after her marathon mall trip with Kurt, she decided to busy herself by clearing out her old beauty products to make room for the new purchases she'd just returned with.
In her bathroom medicine cabinet, she froze at the sight of Finn's Axe Body spray, travel size bottles of shampoo, hair gel, shaving cream, a razor, aftershave and his toothbrush. (Her fathers were never the wiser about their secret sleepovers that had happened every weekend they were out of town – at least the ones when Mike or Artie agreed to cover for Finn.)
While they still hadn't had actual sex yet, they'd gotten just about as close to it as possible without formally completing the deed. Although it had been awkward at times and embarrassing in the beginning, they'd been learning from each other, and she'd never felt closer to any other human on the planet. She hadn't fully understood the baseball references to sex at the start until Finn explained them to her – or more like, SHOWED them to her. (He was an excellent teacher, too.)
They'd enjoyed every other form of intimacy together, to the point where Rachel started taking birth control pills right around the time of Burt and Carole's wedding. She knew her days as a virgin were on a countdown and she'd wanted to be prepared (if she'd learned anything at all from Quinn Fabray, it was that).
Rachel had originally expected they would celebrate their first major holiday as a couple this winter break by finally 'sliding into home plate'. She wasn't sure if her virginity counted as an appropriate Christmas gift or not, but she didn't think Finn would object.
And anyway, there was always the matching Frosty the Snowman boxer shorts and 'ugly Christmas sweater' she'd purchased for him, not to mention the engraved drumsticks. She wasn't sure what to do with his gifts now, so she simply hid them away from sight. Now they all sat, nestled in carefully selected wrapping paper in a large bag in the back of her closet collecting dust and cobwebs, along with the rest of her hopes and dreams for this holiday.
She just never saw Santana Lopez's reprehensible blabber-mouthed blindside about Finn's giant secret coming between them and disrupting her entire universe.
Okay, if she's being completely honest, she knows it wasn't Santana's big mouth, or even Finn's big lie; it was her own immature, reckless reaction that led her to miss out on what should have been the most beautiful moment in her teenage life with the boy of her dreams this winter break.
Maybe she deserved this exile from Finn's heart; she'd certainly acted irresponsible enough not to be trusted with it now. All she knew was, she'd hung all her stars around the moon that was Finn Hudson, but they'd all come crashing down from the sky and she had nobody to blame really but herself.
She's tried everything she could think of to fix it. She's apologized, begged, pleaded, bribed – hell, she wasn't even above groveling at this point, and Rachel Berry groveled for NO ONE. But for Finn, she'd do anything... and yet nothing was good enough. She was honestly surprised she didn't have to rely solely on Kurt as an intermediary between them.
It'd been nearly a month since this whole sordid debacle began and all that her efforts had won her in the end was an angry and often silent Finn. He rejected every attempt she made at repairing the damage she caused. It was just time to accept it now, she supposed... she ruined everything and there was no getting him back.
Maybe things would change in the new year, but for now, seeing so many remnants of him and them and the love they'd shared all around her room was just too painful to bear.
She had no choice but to try and recover her broken heart the best way she knew how. That meant clearing away all the FINN from her world and trying to find a way to move forward without him. She'd put it off long enough. Turning her attention back to the medicine cabinet, she collected his items up, sobbing the entire time.
Who knew shaving cream and a stupid toothbrush could elicit so many gut-wrenching emotions?
She put away her new beauty care items without using them or even performing her nighttime skin care ritual that evening. Who was she going to impress anyway? Instead, she curled up in the middle of her bed in the fetal position under every blanket in her bedroom, falling asleep clutching an old McKinley athletics shirt to her face. It was soft and well-worn and still smelled like him. If this was all she had left of him, she damn sure wasn't about to give it back.
. . . . .
December 23rd - Day Four
BUZZ BUZZ *New message from: RBBGoldStar
: Sorry to disturb you, but I have a number of your bathroom toiletries here including a brand new bottle of Axe body spray which I think you only used once. Would you like to pick them up? The temperature outside is below freezing and I wouldn't want to leave these items in the inclement weather. I could drop them off in an hour if you prefer since I'll be on my way to a dance recital anyway. :
After Kurt left for the mall with Rachel last night, he'd spent 45 minutes fumbling around with his phone settings and finally managed to remember how to change her contact name. But now seeing her revised moniker lit up on the screen just pissed him off even more.
The mere fact that he HAD to waste almost an hour trying to update HER name, the reasons why he HAD to change her name at all, it all made him want to break things. Or Puckerman's face. He loved (loves) her and it wasn't supposed to be this way. Her name shouldn't need to be changed to begin with, unless it was for their wedding.
Damn her for doing this to them!
(And damn his drywall for being so HARD. Musta been a stud under that spot since he didn't actually punch a hole through it this time. His mom's seriously gonna kick his ass if she sees new knuckle indentations in his wall. He figures his Cleveland Cavaliers poster will conceal it for now 'til he can figure out how to fix it without anyone noticing. Again. The bruised knuckles will need a whole other cover story though.)
His stupid phone screen with her stupid message on it finally went dark while he was having his moment of mental tug of war. He kinda didn't give a shit about his toothbrush and whatever, but the body spray was sorta expensive. It's the holidays, which means his piggy bank is pretty starved by now, so why buy more if he didn't have to? It would be wasteful anyway not to use it, right? It's HIS after all. Even if she bought it for him. To keep at her house when they...
UGHHHHH ! ! ! !
Thinking about his empty wallet and the equally empty space in his chest cavity made him look at the slender gift wrapped box sitting across from him on his desk. The contents of that damn box with the stupid Hanukkah candles and dumb sparkly snowflakes on it was a big part of why his wallet (and chest) was so barren.
He could probably take it back to the jewelry store, get his money back... but that'd be a giant pain in the ass. The mall was really crowded, not to mention the idea of having to explain why he was returning that item just made him want to wretch. It's not like a sweater or shoes that he could say didn't fit... Talk about a walk of shame.
He groaned at the text alert light still blinking at him like an evil eye, winking, taunting him. He still didn't really want to see her except that he really did want to see her, except he was so angry at her but he just wanted to kiss her and tell her to go to hell for tearing his heart to ribbons so bad that he didn't know what to do with himself.
His mom had already tasked him with running a few errands that day to include stopping at the post office for stamps, which was not far from Rachel's house.
Cussing some more under his breath, he stuffed the long slender giftbox into the back of his desk drawer next to the OTHER smaller gift box with birthday wrapping on it (out of sight out of mind, right?) and grabbed the evil stupid blinking phone, tapping the screen so hard he wondered how it wasn't broken yet.
: i can stop in 15 if now's good :
Fuck it. He could do this. He could just ring the doorbell, grab his bag of shit and scram. No fuss no muss. No lingering around or looking at her or hearing her sweet musical voice that he missed so bad his insides were twisting into knots. He figured maybe he should hold his breath too or at least be a mouth breather, because the smell of her was liable to make him snap. Maybe he'd get lucky and her dads would deal with the door and the handoff.
But alas, no such luck. And no dads home at all, it looked like. Fuck.
She looked terrible (but still beautiful, even if he wasn't noticing, cause he totally wasn't). Her hair was pulled to a sloppy side braid that looked like she'd slept with it that way for days – except she looked like she hadn't slept at all. The frumpy lumpy sweater (he thinks it's the same one she wore when she had laryngitis last year and came to school all zombified eating a bowl of cereal in the middle of the hallway – which was totally weird but also funny as hell) was falling off one shoulder draped over a black turtleneck. Dark circles shrouded her once bright shining eyes and he could tell she'd been crying a lot based on the puffiness and red splotches on her face. If he were really looking at her that is – which he wasn't.
She looked a lot the way he did, actually. A near mirror reflection (minus the turtleneck).
"H-hi Finn. Um... w-would you like to come in for a minute? I was just making some hot chocolate–"
"Can't. Running errands for mom." Don'tlookather don'tlookather DON'TBREATHE don'tlookather.
"Oh, o-kay, of course. Sorry... Um. Here are your things."
Careful not to brush against her delicate pink polished fingers, he took the bag, peeked inside and nodded once without looking at her. "Thanks."
He turned to leave and heard a soft sniffle escape her which stopped him dead in his tracks. Damn Rachel spidey senses of his included this thing where her tears were totally his kryptonite. The burn in the pit of his stomach was enough now to start a forest fire and it took every bit of his willpower to fight the itching urge in his palms to wrap his arms around her and bury his face in the crown of her head.
Then he remembered why she was crying and the anger stepped forward, overriding that nurturing white knight side of himself.
Without looking back at her, his gruff voice asked, "Why are you crying Rachel?" Of course he knew why she was crying but he'd be damned if he knew why he was ASKING.
She blinked at the unexpected question. "B-because... because you know why..." then in the smallest saddest voice he'd ever heard, "I miss you."
He growled and practically spat his next words at her. "I miss you too, but I wouldn't have to if you didn't run off and try to fuck Puckerman!"
"I'm.. Finn, I'm SORRY! I'm s- I'm so so so sorry, I know I caused–"
"I gotta go."
. . . . .
December 24th - Day 5
He tossed and turned and punched his mattress and thrashed around miserably like a fish flapping on dry land, kicking off his blankets then pulling them back on again.
This went on for hours.
Tomorrow (or today now?) is Christmas Eve. He was supposed to be excited and happy and ready to enjoy the merriment of the holiday, his favorite holiday of the year, with his favorite person in the world. This was meant to be their first Christmas together as a couple. He had SO MANY plans for them this year.
They were going to build snowmen and a fort for a snowball battle with Kurt and Blaine and make snow angels and go sledding at the hilly park on the other side of town (if there was enough snow, of course). They were gonna stroll hand in hand at night through his favorite neighborhoods to look at Christmas lights and he'd steal little kisses every few houses and enjoy her singing Christmas carols with that angelic voice of hers. When they came back to his house afterward, he was gonna kiss her under the mistletoe he'd strategically hung all over the house and drink hot chocolate by the fire and hold her close to warm her up again. They'd unwrap their Christmas presents in secret before the sun even came up by the Christmas tree (because Kurt would've suggested she spend Christmas Eve night in his room so his mom and her dads would say ok, and they would've snuck into Finn's room anyway for some 'special' holiday cheer and stayed awake talking and snuggling and making out all night). Then the day after, if the roads were still okay, he was gonna surprise her and drive them to Oglebay Park in West Virginia for the massive drive-through Christmas display. Even if his mom was gonna make Kurt tag along as a chaperone, he'd already done his homework and found an affordable motel they could spend the night at that was close to a mall (excellent KURT distraction) and a great mom-n-pop breakfast spot he's been to before and an ice-skating rink and...
He just had BIG PLANS this year. But now...
Why? Why did things have to be so so SO fucked up!? WHY did she have to SCREW them up so much?
He spent so much time ping-ponging in his head over this issue. And no matter how he looked at it, it ended the same way: He loves Rachel with every bit of his broken heart, but she cheated on him. Just like Quinn did.
Well okay. No, not just like Quinn... as far as he knew, anyway. No, there were no secret babies fathered by his former best friend this time, and of course, Rachel at least did tell him the truth; there were no lies to trap him into a life he didn't ask for and really didn't want.
Except for one problem. He DID want that life.
Someday, anyway. And Rachel was the girl he wanted it with. He'd put that together at his mom's wedding. Watching his beautiful, blissfully happy (and by the end of the night, slightly tipsy) girlfriend dancing with Burt and her dads during a father-daughter dance Hiram and Leroy requested, he just knew... She was meant to be the next Mrs Hudson in his family tree. And one day he'd be having that father-daughter dance at their daughter's wedding. That's what was supposed to happen.
And then she kissed Puck a week later on purpose, out of spite. To hurt him. Intentionally.
Why did she do it? He never got an answer to that question. Maybe if he got the answer he could finally sleep and try to salvage this stupid holiday that, frankly, he just kinda wanted to sleep through now anyway.
He's already been acting like Captain Cranky-Ass (Kurt's term) ever since he left that damn stupid tree lot with Rachel. Why did he even agree to go there with her? Just because they're glee co-captains still doesn't matter... anyway she's Jewish. He KNOWS why she suggested they go together, and it had nothing to do with decking the damn halls. Then she'd kissed him and he wanted so bad to just forget all the hurt and kiss her back and find a beautiful tree together for Glee and forget there was ever a problem between them... and they sang that damn song together and she sounded so sincere and he almost got lost in that reverie long enough to forget, but the second her lips touched his, a mohawked asshole with wandering hands popped into his mind and it just leveled him all over again. It was all he could do to NOT cry in the middle of the Lima Acres Christmas Tree Lot.
What's worse – as if anything could be – it was HER BIRTHDAY! He fucking 'officially' broke up with her ON HER BIRTHDAY. In a CHRISTMAS TREE LOT the week before Christmas! As if he didn't feel shitty enough. It's not like he'd forgotten; he'd given her a card already that morning (okay stuffed it in her locker when she wasn't around), despite their estrangement (of course, he'd had to stop at the 7/11 on the way to school for a NEW card, since the one he originally picked out weeks ago was for his LOVING GIRLFRIEND and made several handwritten promises for 'special' gifts that he was obviously NOT going to be making good on now).
Yeah, that whole evening was just a fantastic way to kick off the holidays. The next to the last day of school before winter break. He'd already had to sit through the most excruciatingly uncomfortable twenty-minute car ride of his entire life with her to get there, and the ride back was even worse with his now official EX girlfriend who was choking back heaving sobs the whole way. Then he pulled into her driveway and saw the giant Happy Birthday to Our Little Star banner hanging in her front window (her dads were SUPER over the top when it came to celebrating their only child) and he just wanted to kick himself in the ball sack and punch his own face in for being such a dick. (Even if it was all her fault. Which it was, but still...)
She knew he saw the sign, and he turned to say– well, he wasn't really sure what he was gonna say, but it didn't matter because she'd jumped out of the truck quicker than a cricket and was already closing her front door behind her before he could blink a thought into his pea brain.
Just fuck this. Christmas was gonna suck this year no matter what now, but he needed to just shut his brain up and get some kind of sleep. It was after 2 a.m. and he didn't give a shit if she was sleeping or not – he was pretty sure she probably wasn't but was prepared to drive over there and wake her up if necessary – because he needed some damn answers, and he needed them now.
...FOR WHATEVER MY MAN IS, I AM HIS FOREVER MORE...
Rachel jumped with a start, stunned to hear that ringtone softly filling her room at this hour of the night – or was it morning now? She'd been trying to sleep and had dozed off intermittently, but full slumber was just not in the cards.
Apparently she wasn't the only one struggling.
Her sleepy tear-stained voice croaked out a greeting on the second chorus of My Man. "Finn? Is everything o–"
"Why did you kiss him, Rachel?"
"I... what?"
"Just tell me why you did it so I can finally get some sleep!"
"I- I don't know, Finn... because I was stupid and selfish and not thinking. H-he just showed up and offered to help make me feel better... I was hurt, and he was there. That's all."
"So, you... You don't like him? You don't love him?"
"NO! Of course not! Noah is just my friend, that's all. I don't feel anything other than friendship for him, and that's on a good day. But Finn, it's 2 a.m. on Christmas Eve, why are you asking about this now?"
"Because I just needed to know." A long silence passed before he spoke again. He could hear her breathing on the other end and could tell she was quietly crying. Her weepy silent cry where she tries not to make any noise. And for reasons that escape him entirely, he surprised himself by blurting out the next words.
"I'm sorry Rachel."
"For what?"
"For not telling you the truth in the first place. . . About Santana."
"Oh."
That was a rather unexpected comment from him, and frankly more than a little overdue. Sure, he'd half-heartedly apologized about this in the green room before sectionals, but in the same speech he was basically telling her to shut up and get over it already. She wasn't sure why he was saying it again now, in the middle of the night (morning?) on Christmas Eve.
"That's why you were so hurt, right? Because I lied and never told you the truth myself?"
She nodded in the dark on her end of the phone, tears welling in her eyes again. "Yeah. That's part of it."
She heard him exhale in the middle of a long pause before he asked, "What's the other part?"
She squeezed her eyes closed as the fresh pool of tears spilled onto her chapped cheeks. Of course he still didn't understand... which was kind of the problem. "Well... does it really matter now?"
He huffed and threw a pillow across the room knocking over a novelty dancing Santa figurine that Kurt had 'graced' his desk with, and it let out a jolly jingling HO HO HO. He reached down and grabbed a shoe to chuck at it to silence the damn thing then swung his giant legs over the side of his bed and huffed again.
There was still some bite to his tone, but he tried to temper it. "I don't know. Maybe not, but I still want to know."
She pulled in a fresh chestful of air and finally let it all deflate, let the pieces land where they may. It still frustrated her that she needed to explain all the humiliating minutiae to him, but she guessed it was the only way with him sometimes: brutal honesty.
"It's just that... I thought you didn't care enough to tell me. Or to stop her from being the one to tell me. And you didn't care enough to defend me or speak on my behalf when she said all those horrible things to me in the green room – or like, ever. She's always been so cruel to me, Finn. You were supposed to be my boyfriend, my person, the one person I could always count on to have my back, yet you never once spoke out against her deplorable behavior while we were together. It just seemed like... like she mattered to you more than I did. She's always bullied me clear back to middle school, and I've done my best to hide how much it truly affects me, but it does affect me, Finn. Deeply. Maybe I never said so or- or showed it, but if you really knew me well enough, I guess I thought you'd just KNOW that. And you think she's HOT and you slept with HER and it just felt like–"
"That's insane, Rachel."
"You think MY FEELINGS are insane?"
"Yeah... they are if you think I could ever choose Santana or– or ANYONE else over you... that's just insane."
Now Rachel was sitting upright, propped against her headboard, twisting the antennae of her Lila Ladybug stuffie around her finger so tightly it was cutting off the circulation. "You chose Quinn over me."
"Rachel I was already dating her first, and by the way CHEATING ON HER – WITH YOU! And if it wasn't for the baby–"
"Okay. Okay... but you did choose Santana over me, last year. When you had sex with her."
"No. NO. I chose YOU, but you chose JESSE over ME. That's WHY I ended up with her – and that is the ONLY reason why. Well, that and she offered, but yeah..."
He heard what he knew was an irritated scoff sound from her and could picture her pinched up angry face. "I chose Jesse because you chose your inner rockstar, Finn. You didn't want to be with me so you could go on a date with – who was it again?"
He bit the inside of his lip so hard it bled. "Fuck!" he hissed, partly due to the pain of his bleeding lip and partly over his own stupidity for not piecing all of this shit together sooner. A full year of his own stupidity and bad, poorly timed decisions had just come full circle and bit him right in the ass cheek.
By now he was out of bed pacing around his room in the dark in his reindeer boxers and an Iron Man tee. He tripped on the free weights he'd left lying at the foot of his bed and stubbed his toe. "Son of a bitch!"
"Finn, it's the middle of the night, and if all you're going to do is shout expletives at me, then–"
"No, I'm not...I.. shit. Sorry, I just hurt my toe is all, and... dammit, Rach." he sucked air through his teeth, his toe still throbbing and the sting of tears burning his eyes (he wasn't entirely sure they were for his toe either). "I'M SORRY. Okay? I'm... I'm really sorry." He flopped down on the edge of his bed, hanging his head and running a hand over his messy bedhead hair. "I'm sorry for last year, and I'm sorry for lying. And I'm sorry I hurt you again. I didn't know, okay? About how you felt about Santana... Maybe I should have... yeah, I guess I probably should have, but I didn't and... I'm just sorry."
"You are?"
"Yeah."
Her tears were spilling in continuous streams, dripping down to her snowy owl print flannel pajama top. She'd waited so long to hear those words from him, and now they're coming in the middle of the night when they're so broken and so far away from each other... and hearing them just didn't feel as good as it should. Those words would have had a far more substantial impact had he said them weeks ago.
"Well... Apology accepted," she managed to choke out between sobs, but she couldn't hide the sadness in her tone.
She could hear his quiet, forced breaths through his nostrils. "Rach? . . . Rachel... Why are you crying?"
"I don't know." she grabbed the last two tissues from her fuzzy purple tissue dispenser and blew her nose. "I'm just... it's late. I'm tired. We should both be sleeping. Anyway, it-it's Christmas Eve, and I'm sure you want to be up early to celebrate with your family."
"No, tell me, Rach. Why are you still crying?" The bite had left his voice, displaced by the lump forming in his own throat. No matter how trampled his heart was, her tears still did something to him he just couldn't handle – especially when he wasn't in a position to do anything to help quash them.
"It's just... why did I have to explain all of this to you?"
"I don't know. Probably because I'm that smart the way you are, Rach. I don't... I can't always see things the way you do. But I'm learning. You've been teaching me how... I just, I guess I have a ways to go yet."
"Well... why didn't you say these things sooner, Finn?"
She could hear him swallow hard, apparently fighting his own emotions. "What things? You mean why didn't I apologize sooner?"
"Yeah. Because that's really all I needed to hear at the time, Finn. And you were... You were too busy telling me I was wrong for being upset at all. That you weren't to blame for anything because you were single at the time... And now... now it's too late, isn't it?"
He pushed out a long slow breath. "I don't know. Is it?"
"I'm not sure it's up to me, but it seems like it is."
He pictured her laying in her bed now, curled up in a tiny ball like a hedgehog, probably snuggling one of her stuffed animals close to her chest and running her lips over it the way she always does when she's sad. SHe likes the soft fur tickling against her lips and he always found it adorable. He wished he could be there to pull her into his arms and hold her, kiss away the tears. Kiss away the pain and hurt ...from both of them.
Then he thought of her running off that day with Puck. Of Puck in her room. Puck's hands on her. Puck's hips against hers. Puck's tongue in her mouth. A fresh wave of vitriol flooded his veins. "Maybe it is."
. . . . .
December 27th - Day 8
BUZZ BUZZ *New message from: F HUDSON
: i'm looking for my blue hoodie. do u have it? :
: You have many blue hoodies, Finn. Could you be more specific? :
He read her response, and his eyes narrowed. Be more specific? What the hell, how many of his blue hoodies is she hoarding anyway?
: the navy blue one rachel. from the night at the lake. u wore it home after we... y'know :
: Oh, that hoodie. Yes I think I still have it. :
She bit her lip, looking over his messages, wondering why he was asking about THIS hoodie now. He must have a hundred hoodies in every color of the rainbow. But this one was special, so of course she still has it. (She's actually wearing it even as she texts him about it.)
: i'll come by now to get it if ur home :
She stared at the words on her screen, shaking her head. This sudden quest to recover an article of clothing that he honestly did not NEED was baffling her. It meant something... this jacket meant something, so these texts had to mean something too. She thought it through, the timing, the request itself. The METAPHOR of it all was simply so blaring she couldn't ignore it (because metaphors are important).
Was he finally willing to fight for 'it'?
: I am, but I'm in the middle of something. My dads are away for a few days, but I'll leave the door unlocked. Just come in when you get here. :
He sighed and ran a hand down his face. She's home alone again and wants him to just come inside? This is a bad idea.
But...
: ok. cu in 10 :
Nine minutes later... Her driveway was void of any cars except for her little pink VW Bug. He climbed from the cab of his truck and shoved his hands deep into his front pockets, exhaling a long slow breath. He paused, staring up at her bedroom window. His Rachel Radar was zinging to life again. It'd been almost a week since he'd last seen her and he was just a junkie looking for a hit. He knew that's really what this was.
She was right, he had a ton of other hoodies. But they weren't all like this one. It was special. It was part of something special, a memory he didn't wanna forget, ever, not that he thought he could, but still. Rachel would probably call it a metaphor. Whatever. He just... he just wanted it okay? He needed it.
He turned the knob on the front door with a slightly shaky hand, relieved that as promised it was unlocked. He's really glad because he's pretty sure she would have changed the security code for the alarm by now and that's the last thing his already unstable nerves need is the alarm blaring with cops showing up.
Scanning the main floor, there was no sign of her – not that he really expected to find her down here. Everything looked exactly as he remembered it though. Okay, it's only been a few weeks since he was here last, so he's not sure what he thought would have changed so soon. It might not be rational, but it still seemed somewhat comforting to know things were just as he left them.
When he didn't see her, he headed for the stairs toward her room. Climbing them was flooding his brain with too many memories of happier times that he'd made this journey. Was this hoodie really so important that he was subjecting himself to this onslaught of pain now? (Yeah, it was. Okay fine, sue him, it WAS. He'd awakened from the most amazing dream and just suddenly realized he hadn't seen that hoodie in a long time and he just... he just needed it now, okay?) More to the point – why did things have to be so painful now? Wasn't he in control of his own happiness? Rachel even said it on the phone – it wasn't really up to her. She didn't control his feelings; HE does.
And he'd already done a ton of thinking the last few days. Christmas pretty much sucked the way he expected it to. He was still kind of short tempered around everyone, but he was trying, which is really saying a lot for his mental state since walking away from the love of his life the way he did – that's something else he realized. Yeah, he knows he loves her, he knows that she's like, his future or whatever, but he knows now there is something so much deeper between them... some X factor he can't put his finger on. Whatever it is, it sure as hell wasn't there with Quinn and he's never seen it with any of his other couple-y friends... maybe he's seen it with Burt and his mom?
He just knows the crappy holiday was one he doesn't ever wanna repeat. He went through all the motions and did the family stuff the past two days, but his heart wasn't in it. No. It was in THIS house, too far out of reach and nothing felt right without her there beside him.
Okay, true, she screwed up. Super bad. But so did he. He recognizes that fact now. And she's right, it was just a kiss. A kiss that she says was meaningless (just like he said sex with Santana was meaningless – because honestly, it was). She didn't bang anyone either – super important point. She only ever said she had intentions of giving her virginity to HIM, and that sounds like it hasn't changed (he really hopes not).
So in the greater scheme of things, was a measly revenge kiss really so bad? At least she didn't hide it or lie to him about it. She never lied about anything (well, except the lie about St Jackass last year, but he's not going there now, and anyway those lies worked out in his favor... sort of. Until they blew up in his face when he figured out after the fact that he'd impulsively jumped in the sack with Satan for no good reasons...).
And compared to Rachel, he was surely no saint. Didn't he kiss Rachel while dating Quinn? He even snuck off to take her out on a real date! He was a cheater AND a liar – one who strung Rachel along by her wide-open heart last year until he was finally good and ready to accept it. How bad did he hurt her while he was taking forever trying to sort out his crap? Maybe it wasn't all his fault, he was mostly a victim of circumstance (and his own lack of proper sex ed apparently)... but wasn't Rachel the only real friend he had in the aftermath of all the Quinn-baby garbage? Wasn't she the one who SAVED HIM from a lifetime of servitude under Queen Quinn's wrath?
What the fuck was he thinking, messing things up with Rachel like this? Breaking up with her (on her birthday, YOU DOUCHE!)... His mom must've honestly dropped him on his head as a baby or something. Maybe he has brain damage. Why does he keep breaking her heart? Why do they keep hurting each other the way they do? And why can't they let each other go? It has to mean something, right? He's certain it does.
"Rach? Uh... it's me. Are you in there?" he asked, even though his Rachel Radar already knew the answer.
"You can come in."
He found her sitting in the middle of her bed amidst a sea of photos. She had several scrapbooks open and scattered around her. He guessed she was cataloging pictures again – including all the ones that had been framed from around her room, apparently? A quick inspection told him that several of the framed photos of the two of them which sat on her nightstand were now on the bed, frames empty. Was she erasing them now? Tucking them away to scrapbook heaven, only to be thought of the next time she pulled a volume out in the future to reminisce?
Okay yes, he'd tucked all her pictures into his desk drawer too the first day after their breakup... well, all but one that he kept under his pillow. It just made him feel better knowing she was there at night, close to him, in case he really needed her. And he never looked at it. Not ever... Not that much.
Photohut explosion aside, what caught his attention the most in this scene was Rachel herself. Her hair was down, wavy, unkempt, kind of bedhead looking (and so fucking sexy if he were gonna let himself go there, which he wasn't). Her eyes were a little less puffy than they were a week ago when he last saw her. No makeup to speak of on her face, all natural (the way he likes her the best).
Most notable though was her attire. She was wearing the precise item he'd just driven here to retrieve – and from the looks of it, ONLY that item and nothing else.
Rachel is a tiny girl and his clothes completely swallow up her small frame, especially his hoodies, so it's possible she's not actually naked under that hoodie; that doesn't stop all the blood in his body from migrating straight to his crotch debating the possibility though.
His thumbs were hooked in his belt loops with his fingers tapping a nervous beat at his hips while his eyes shifted around the scene trying to avoid the obvious landmine in the room, the one that was sure to kill him if he got too close. "Um... R- Rach? What's ah, wh-what's going on?"
She still hadn't looked up at him, just pasted the next photo onto a scrapbook page. When she spoke, her voice was lighter than it had been on the phone a few nights ago, less pained. "Hello Finn. I was just in the middle of... um, tidying up my room, you know. Clearing things away, organizing. You know how I am when I start a project like this, I don't like to stop in the middle of it."
To anyone who didn't know her voice like he did, she would sound like her perfect normal cheery self. But over the last year and a half, he'd become this audio Rainman, this Rachel Berry voice aficionado. He knew every nuance, every inflection, every strain of her speech, including pitch and timbre and how those sounds correlated to her current mood. Her emotions drove the sounds she produced and he'd heard just about every possible change from supreme happiness to biting angst and sorrow and everything in between. He thinks it has something to do with how attuned his own feelings are with hers; kinda like a human tuning fork.
He didn't have this magical skill with anyone else, only with her, and he KNEW her speech was loaded with... something weird. Something suspicious. Something decidedly very UN-Rachel-like.
"Yeah, I .. I can see what you're doing... Y-you're putting away all our pictures?"
"Well," she finally looked up at him with somewhat red-rimmed eyes. Eyes that didn't sparkle like usual, eyes that clearly had seen way too many tears lately and not nearly enough sleep. It made something in his chest clench with sadness. "I guess I hoped it would help."
He rubbed at the back of his neck and chewed on his lip before asking, "Help with what?"
"The pain."
"Yeah." He was quiet for a long beat, suffering the heartache of looking over the pictures scattered around her, all the best memories of THEM, but avoiding her naked legs at all possible costs. "Uh... so... that hoodie I was asking about...?" he gestured toward the item in question.
"What about it, Finn?"
"Rachel, c'mon. You're like, y'know, wearing it."
"Am I? Oh. I guess I am. Well... I've decided I want to keep it."
"Oh, you just decided this? Knowing I was coming here to get it?"
"Yes. And while I knew you were asking about it and confirmed I had it, I never actually agreed to return it. Why would you possibly want it back anyway?"
"Be-because it's mine?" He swallowed thickly as she shifted her position on the bed, now sitting cross-legged and it REALLY didn't appear that she had anything at all on under that hoodie. It was nearly halfway unzipped and he didn't see any signs of a cami or bra straps or tank shirts or even oh god, panties?... "Rach. Rachel. You knew I was coming here now. Why are you wearing the thing you know I was coming here to get?"
"Well Finn, it's like this." she spoke nonchalantly and fiddled with a few photos, trying to seem disconnected from the conversation, but he knew her better... she was scheming in her very subtle Rachel Berry way. "This hoodie holds many very fond memories of us. It's precious to me. So precious that I need to retain custody of it to preserve those memories. You seem uninterested in keeping them now anyway, given our recent breakup. I think I cherish this item, and the memories associated with it more than you do, and therefore, the hoodie should stay with me."
His voice cracked and his eyes bugged when he yelped "Are you kidding? Rachel it's- it's my HOODIE we're talking about here, not kids or something! And- and- and anyway, I care, I remember! Y-you can't just stake a claim on our shared memories!"
"Well, I think I can and so I am. I'm completely serious. I honestly thought this would be doing you a favor. There's too great a risk you might destroy this beloved article of clothing that holds too many fond memories of us, so I should retain custody to keep it safe. It's quite simple, really."
He threw his hands in the air in frustration, gritting his teeth and flexing his jaw at the ridiculousness of what she was suggesting. "Rachel... I just... YOU'RE RIDICULOUS! What, y-you think I don't remember what happened that night at the lake? Is that what you think? You think those memories don't mean everything to me too? Rachel, you gave me my first bl– you know what happened that night at the lake." his face went beet red and he felt uncomfortable in his cargo pants all of a sudden. Between the sight of the half naked girl on the bed and the memories of her mouth on him that night, he wasn't sure how he wasn't already in need of a box of tissues and a change of boxers.
"Yes I remember, of course I do. It was my first attempt at fellacio. You seemed very pleased, too. And you returned the favor afterwards – very impressively, may I add."
His face was heating up to thermo-nuclear levels the more she talked. "Rach, it's um.. I mean, I still... I loaned that jacket to y-you because, um... cold. You were... sh-shivering and–"
"I wasn't cold, Finn. I was shaking with ecstasy. You'd just given me my first real orgasm and I was so in love with you and the intimacy we'd shared together was something so deep and primal, that I was just... shaking."
"Oh," he gulped, as she sat up on her knees shifting her position again. Now he had a clear look at the valley between her positively no more questions asked nude breasts. Feeling he was staring for too long, he stammered out, "I.. yeah, nerves.. Me too. Uh.. I was nervous that night, y'know. I uh.. I was shaking too."
"I remember. But you were also chivalrous as always, and you gave me this hoodie. Finn, I've wrapped myself in this jacket every time I ever needed a hug from you when you weren't around. It reminds me of your strong arms being around me and brings me comfort, makes me feel safe. And even if we aren't together anymore, it still does that for me now. Therefore... if you really want this jacket back, you're simply going to have to peel it from my body and take it from me, because I refuse to let it go willingly."
Shit. What the hell is she... "Rach? I... you... what are you doing?"
"I'm not letting go, Finn. That's what I'm doing."
His eyes locked on her determined big brown orbs. "Yeah, I can... I can see that. But I mean... no. Look. You KNEW I would be here in just a few minutes from when we texted. You ASKED ME to just come inside, knowing that you're... you're– Rach you're half naked! And it's like you're trying to ... I dunno, are you trying to tease me? Or punish me? Or- or- seduce me? 'Cause I'm not really sure what to think right now, not like I can really think straight AT ALL seeing you like this... And you're talking about sex stuff and looking hotter than any of my dreams have ever imagined and..."
"You think I look hot?" she asked innocently, glancing down at herself.
"Rachel I ALWAYS think that, because YOU DO."
She bit her lip. "You never say it though."
"I thought I showed it."
Their eyes remained locked in a standoff, a game of chicken to see who'd look away first. The only reason Finn lost is because she leaned forward the littlest bit and more of her open cleavage was exposed and his eyes just automatically followed.
"Take it if you really want it, Finn. You're right. It's yours, it belongs to you... so does it matter that much to you?"
Their eyes reconnected again, as her hands went up over her head – either in surrender or as an invitation for him to pull the hoodie over her head? – he didn't know, and wasn't even sure if her words had been referring to the hoodie anymore, but the latter theory is the one he settled on and exactly the action he suddenly took without a second thought.
Once it was lifted over her head and pulled away from her, he dropped the soft cotton material onto the bed next to her and stood immobilized by her fully nude form sitting before him. She was completely exposed to him in the soft daylight streaming through her windows and he couldn't take his eyes away.
Rachel never flinched, made no move to cover herself, never looked away.
"Beautiful..." he finally exhaled. "So... so goddamned beautiful you are, Rach." It suddenly felt like all the air was sucked from the room when something changed in her eyes; a spark, or the flip of an ignition switch, or something else he could never fully describe... he read it as one simple thing though: permission.
She was scooped up in his arms in a heartbeat, his fiery hot mouth pressed to hers with a ferocity she'd never felt before. He hoisted her entirely off the bed, plucked out of the sea of photos she'd been floating in and her legs tied around his waist as he stood freely in the center of her room on her piano rug holding her naked form against him. He kissed every accessible bit of skin his mouth could reach, her cheeks, her jaw, her neck, her earlobes, her collarbone, and finally her breasts. As he suckled and swirled his tongue around her chest, her hand drifted down to undo the fly of his pants.
Rachel moaned in pleasure, one hand at his crotch the other clutched at his hair, her head tilted down toward his. His eyes peeked up at her from the breast his lips were attached to and his erection swelled at the sight before him. The look on her face was caught somewhere between ecstasy and pain. Whatever it was, he was sure it came down to NEED, and even as he thought it she said as much. "I want you Finn, I need you... please..."
He nodded and sort of ungracefully toppled down to his knees with her still twined around his torso, nearly dropping her flat on her back but recovered in time before that happened. He untangled himself from her just long enough to pull off his shirt and shuck away his pants and once he was fully disrobed, he pulled her back to him eagerly, sitting upright and straddling her over his lap. "You know it's probably gonna hurt babe," he breathed the reminder in her ear.
She nodded and wrapped both arms tightly around his shoulder, sucking the side of his neck and swiping her tongue over his Adam's apple once to the other side of his head. "It's okay. I'm ready. I want this. I want YOU Finn..."
He kissed her hotly as he lifted her by the hips, slowly helping both of them into position. When he could feel the wetness and heat of her center, he gently lowered her onto his shaft. She was so slick and ready for him and as he finally penetrated her for the first time, he felt his heartbeat ricochet off his chest walls and every muscle in his body tensed in concentration. He DID NOT want this to end anytime soon, and he wanted to commit the sight of her face in this moment to his memory forever.
Their foreheads stayed connected, as did their eyes. She took over their movements then, slowly sinking down his length, pausing, then taking him in deeper until he was finally completely buried inside her warmth. Her eyes squeezed shut at one point and he stroked her face and huskily whispered, "Rach, look at me. Open your eyes... stay with me."
She did as he asked, never looking away from him. Once she was fully adjusted to his girth filling her completely, her hips gently moved to a slow silent rhythm, a pulse, and soon they both recognized it as their shared heartbeat.
Finn bit his lower lip, sliding his hands to her bare chest, caressing her breasts as she wrapped her arms tighter around him, splaying her hands across his rigid back muscles. He laid a slow, languid kiss on her mouth, tilting her jaw to plunge his tongue deeper.
As their mouths tasted and tangled, he hugged her body tighter to his, their chests pressed as close as two could be, arms hugged firmly around one another. The kiss continued for what felt like hours til Rachel's breath became erratic, coming in shorter pants then longer mewls. He knew she was close to her peak, feeling her sheath begin to tighten and quiver all around him.
"I'm with you baby... go with me... together," he breathed against her mouth. Suddenly the stars exploded all around them and they were both tipping, slipping, twirling, spinning... and falling and falling and falling and catching up again and that perfect kiss never seemed to end until it did, only so that they could cry one another's names in perfect harmony.
As they metered down, their foreheads stayed connected, him shrinking inside of her, her eyes wide and dilated, so full of love, staring into his and seeing the same reflected back at her.
He weaved both hands through the hair at the sides of her head and kissed her again, tenderly this time. "I love you baby. God I love you, so fucking much, Rach," he didn't realize there were tears streaming down his cheeks til she was catching them and kissing them away.
"I love you, Finn, you're amazing... this was perfect and–" he cut her off, capturing her lips again in another slow, deep kiss.
"Merry Christmas, Finny," she whispered in a quiet voice with the sweetest smile he'd ever seen; it stole his breath.
"It is now," he muttered in her ear, holding her as close to him as he could. "God Rach, I missed you so much..." He pushed her bangs off her damp forehead and placed a soft kiss there. "I'm so sorry," he repeated over and over as his kisses moved across her cheek to her neck and ear.
"I'm sorry too, baby," she said as she slid her hands up his chest and rested them on either side of his face. "I promise Finn, never ever again... I'll never hurt you like that again. You have to believe me, please..."
"I do. Me too, Rach. I promise too... We're gonna get it right this time, okay?"
She nodded and he kissed her until both their lips were numb and swollen.
. . . . .
December 28th - Day 9
"Open yours first, Finn," she smiled from ear to ear, handing him the largest package first.
After several more rounds of lovemaking yesterday, they officially renewed their union as a couple. They spent hours discussing ad-nauseum all the things they each had held back from the other, things that annoyed or frustrated or disappointed one another, and each promised to make improvements. Most importantly they vowed to COMMUNICATE no matter what, and to always be honest.
Feeling all the air was cleared, they showered quickly (or well, NOT so quickly at all really) and although he had to smell like strawberries and vanilla now that he'd taken back his own bathroom gear, he didn't mind. They returned to his house to collect his toboggan. Kurt seemed to piece it together first that Finchel was Finchel again and invited himself and Blaine to join them at the park where most of Finn's original plans played out. They didn't make it to Oglebay so he made a silent vow to surprise her next year, but thanks to a fresh snowstorm, they did manage 90% of the rest of his perfect first Finchel Christmas bucket list. (Truth be told, Rachel had already filled that bucket with her surprise gift to him the day before – an item he thought might've gotten checked off in that motel in WV... but her way worked too, all four times).
And now they sat in the pre-dawn hours by only the light of the Christmas tree, its needles starting to brown and drop from the most heavenly scented Douglas fir, FINALLY exchanging their gifts.
He chuckled at her excitement and belly laughed at the ginormous 3D-carrot-nosed snowman sweater that emerged from the tissue paper inside the box.
"Oh my god Rach, this is hilarious! Kurt's totally gonna hate this SO MUCH and I'm gonna LOVE watching him gag and squirm when I wear it!"
She clapped excitedly at his reaction and then remembered, "Wait, look, it also does this!" She reached over to what looked like a snowflake-shaped button on the breast pocket, pinching it as the string of Christmas lights on Frosty's hat lit up and the Frosty theme song started playing.
Finn laughed so hard he almost dropped her on the floor from his lap where she was perched. "I love it! I freakin' LOVE it! And I love you," he said more seriously as he covered her mouth with his.
She giggled and squealed under his grasp and pulled back, insisting there was more to be unwrapped. He had an equally ecstatic reaction to his new novelty light-up Frosty boxers – not missing at all the way Frosty's absent carrot nose was strategically aligned with the fly opening down the front.
The drumsticks he opened last earned her another toe-curling kiss, especially when he read the inscription that was branded into the wood on each stick, which read 'To FCH - Merry 1st Christmas. Love, Your Funny Girl RBB' on one stick and 'My heart's a drummer and I am his forever more' on the other. He couldn't hide his face splitting dimpled smile if he tried. "This is seriously so incredible, Rach. Best gift I ever got. I love it so much. I think I'm gonna get these mounted in a shadow box or something and hang 'em on the wall over my kit, 'cause I never wanna break them or lose them."
"You can actually break drumsticks?"
"Um, have we just met or something? Yeah, babe," he chuckled, brushing her bangs from her eyes. "It happens sometimes – totally not on purpose, it just does. It's why you need to get high quality sticks, which I can tell these are."
She smiled, proud of herself for doing her research beforehand. "That's what I asked for when I ordered them, and the salesman assured me these were the best... So I did good?"
"Yeah, you did GREAT! Okay... your turn now. Um... listen, this was supposed to be a two-part gift, one was meant for your birthday. So I'm giving you that one first. And baby I'm so sorry it's so late and also that I screwed up your birthday so bad... I shoulda just given this to you in th–." His words were stifled by her hand over his mouth.
"Hey... we agreed. Fresh start." He nodded against her palm as he kissed it and placed the first box into it. Once she had it open, her jaw went slack and she gasped, "Oh! Finn..."
He left the little star-studded earrings in the box and lifted the delicate gold chain out and allowed her to inspect the tiny star charm with diamond chip in the center. "I saw this and just knew it belonged on your pretty neck. You're a real star, Rachel Berry. I've always believed in you, and I always will. I know you don't need me or any other loser holding you back... but I hope you'll keep me my dumb ass around anyway."
"Forever more, Finn," she kissed him softly and added "and you're not a loser – or dumb. I never want to hear you say that again. Finn... this is just beautiful, baby, I love it, thank you."
"You're beautiful. . . I love you," he smiled and kissed the tip of her nose, and she leaned in to press another kiss on his lips while stroking the light stubble on his jaw. He gulped in a fresh breath and grinned. "Okay babe, one more. Your first official Christmas gift... Make it count!"
She carefully unwrapped the narrow box with tears in her eyes already just because he'd used Hanukkah themed wrapping paper. She grinned widely and giggled once the contents were revealed. "Oh my god, Finny! This is so sweet, I LOVE IT!" Happy tears collected in her lashes as she held up the silver die-cut FINCHEL charm necklace.
He really liked her Finn necklace and poked fun the first time he saw it, saying he wasn't special enough to be hung around her neck on display like that and that it should be HER name there instead. She vehemently disagreed, naturally, insisting she was proud to display his name. In time it made him feel really good, this passive-aggressive little possessiveness of hers... she was advertising to the world that she was his and it was all kinds of awesome... and HOT.
She'd bought the Finn necklace herself. But this time he wanted her to know that he knew, that THEY were something special together. They were Finchel, and he wanted the world to know it too. She couldn't have agreed more.
. . . . .
~F❤️R~
A/N – Song credits to Barbra Streisand & Funny Girl (Composer Jule Styne & Lyricist Bob Merrill) for Don't Rain on My Parade (etched in finn's drumsticks) and My Man (drumsticks and Rachel's personalized ringtone for Finn)
chapter title credit for a partial quote from How the Grinch Stole Christmas. In context:
"Maybe Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store. Maybe Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more."
~ Dr Seuss