Title: Four Times Finn Hudson Never Kissed Rachel Berry (and One Time He Did)
Spoilers: Season up to some promos for 106 (just to be safe – no spoilers aside from the promo seen during the football game)
Word Count: 2073
Characters: Finn/Rachel (it's my first attempt at Finn, I don't think I dumbed him down enough, but whatever)
Summary: Four times Finn could have kissed Rachel, but didn't. And one time he did kiss Rachel and probably shouldn't. Takes place partly pre-series (assumes that Rachel is in Finn's Spanish class) and partly during my version of "Vitamin D."
Rating: R ? (The first four are more like PG-13)
Disclaimer: I do not own Glee. Not the characters, or the episodes, or the songs, or anything. *sobs*
Author's Note: I didn't edit it again (sorry people). Has no relation to anything else I have written. Thank you so much to Cory, Lea and Mark for being so damn hot that I just had to write this down.
He's in the hallway pulling books out of his locker wondering why it's so important to know what a simile is. When is he ever going to use that? What the hell does it mean anyway?
His eyes wander down from the stack of books all the way to the pile of papers he crams into the bottom of his backpack after every class. He knows he'll need to clean that up sooner or later, but he finds that if he puts it off long enough he can just throw all of them away.
He looks at the novel, some book written more than his lifetime ago, he's supposed to have completed reading it. He's tried. He really has, but he's not a reader.
Still, he frowns to himself as he loads the book and other papers back into his bag.
Then he hears it.
The soft, sweet hum of some super popular, over-played radio song. Something he's only ever heard when he's with Quinn, as that repetitive crap tends to make him feel just a little bit sick to his stomach. They just don't write songs like they used to.
He chases the sound with his eyes, moving from the bottom of his bag along the floor until he finds a pair of brown boots with only the very tips of the toes on the floor. He follows the boots up to bare knees, then a short brown skirt with happy looking yellow flowers. A bright yellow sweater is covered with glossy, dark hair that swings slightly with the melody being hummed. He sees her stretch her slight body, skirt riding up just a little, as she reaches for something in the top of her own locker.
"Here, let me get that for you," he hears himself say. His mother did always teach him to be a gentleman. Still he's not prepared for what he sees when she turns around to face him.
The dark brown hair, curling just on the ends, falls past her shoulders as she moves to look at him. Eyes the colour of the molasses cookies his mother used to make take up half of her face, encased by long black lashes. Her mouth is painted a slick light pink colour that highlights the extreme white of her teeth.
"That would be great," she says. He reaches up and grabs that same novel he's been trying to begin forever from the top shelf, hands it to her, his gaze lingering for just a moment on those candy colour lips that seem to go on forever. He wonders if they taste as good as they look.
"No problem," he says instead. "Good book?"
"Yeah, it's my favourite." She looks at him briefly before saying quietly. "Thanks." She turns back to her locker loading and unloading.
He returns to close his own. Maybe he'll try reading that again.
2. iSpanish Partners /i
He's seen her around. She's actually in a couple of his classes but she always sits in the front and he always sits in the back. She puts her hand up often to answer questions and he only ever answers questions when it cannot be avoided.
Still, one day during Spanish class, they're paired together.
"Finn, right?" She says in that precise voice of hers. Every one of the letters in each word is so carefully formed and placed. Everything is just so.
"Yeah, and you're Rachel?" She nods. Today that beautiful brown-black hair is pulled into a careful knot at the base of her neck. Instead of candy pink, her lips are bare. Which just makes them even more appealing.
Thinking thoughts of Quinn.
"So, did you understand the assignment?" He asks her, pulling his attention up to her eyes.
"We just have to decide when we use 'ser' and when we use 'estar.' Then fill in the blanks, I think." Her voice is so smooth and high, and unlike any other person he's met.
"Okay," he turns his attention back to the worksheet that Mr. Schue handed out earlier, as she sits down in the chair beside him. She's wearing a jean skirt today. He's noticed she always seems to wear skirts. Never pants. And they're always short.
"So I think the first one is 'estar' because it's something that changes. So it's like today, I am happy, but tomorrow I could be angry or something."
By the time they've finished the worksheet he thinks he might actually understand the difference which is amazing considering that sometimes he sleeps in Mr. Schue's class.
Mr. Schue asks them to practice conjugating the verbs orally once they've finished, so he and Rachel take turns.
His eyes shift of their own accord down to those lips that have been haunting him. He watches with fascination as her tongue quickly and unconsciously slides out of her mouth as she thinks. He wants to touch her so badly, wants to feel those lips against his own. Wants her tongue to outline his lips, moisturizing them. Wants to know if she tastes better with candy flavoured gloss or just as Rachel.
Then the bell rings, he packs up his bag and flies out the door, pausing only to give Rachel a small wave before rushing off to find his girlfriend.
3. iI got chills/i
When he walks into the auditorium after his conversation with Mr. Schue, he's a bit worried. Singing is not something he's ever thought seriously about. And if the guys on the football team ever find out, they will absolutely kill him.
At least the song is one he knows. Rachel looks doesn't look happy to see him, but she does give him a small wave as he walks by.
Six weeks after school, or joining Glee. He's not sure that he made the right decision, but he listens to the piano start up. Then he starts to sing.
Rachel is giving him a look that he can't define. But then she's singing to him and feeling up all the other members as she moves down the line. He'd be lying if he didn't say that he was a bit terrified of her and her extreme actions. Especially when they start to sing together, and she's pushing and pulling his body in ways that he's not meant to be pushed and pulled.
She won't stop staring at him, so when he finally does look down at her, those perfectly sculpted lips are pressed in a secret smile. And he's imagining her hands on his hair instead of that guy on the end, or on his chest instead of that little Asian girl with the blue hair, or running up his back instead of pushing that wheelchair kid. He's imagining that smile insistent as it forces a response from him.
He breathes deep, but all he smells is her, vanilla and spice, and Rachel. iOh, God. /i He pushes his lips together and looks away quickly as the music starts again.
4. iHold On to that Feelin' /i
It's the first time they've put all the elements of the song together. He's a little nervous. He really wants to succeed. He wants to do well, because Glee is what he wants to be doing now. Maybe it's not who he is, but it's a part of him just the same.
He has friends here. People who count on him. Who need him.
And he feels this song, deep in some hidden part of himself.
When his voice and Rachel's hit those harmonies in perfect sync, his body and her's vibrate in the same way, when her eyes look into his and they sing to hold on to that feeling, he does.
It's no longer about the short skirts, or her body, or even her voice. It's not some strange obsession he has with her mouth, or anything else. It's just Rachel, and he wants her in every way.
Part way through the song his arm comes to hold hers and he's so tempted to pull her towards him and show her that his being part of Glee is about more than just song and dance and friends. He wants to show her that she matters, that she's more to him than just a girl with her locker by his and a casual Spanish acquaintance.
He wants so badly to brush her hair back from her face and lean in and taste her.
But he continues singing until the last notes of the song die down and the clapping begins.
5. i Practice Interruption /i
Since that day, his lips have been on hers three times. Once in an auditorium where he'd known what he was doing and made the choice anyway. Once in an auditorium where he'd had no choice whatsoever. And once in a bowling alley where the sound of some harsh 80s power ballad had caused him to respond to the first of their kisses that was initiated by her.
Since coming back to Glee, she hasn't been all over him. She hasn't been overly unfriendly either, but he's had other things on his mind. Quinn and the baby. His baby? In the back of his mind he wonders about this whole hot tub mess. Maybe he should ask the school nurse about it.
Rachel is always there at practice. She smiles and sings, and always looks beautiful without really trying. He's noticed other people noticing.
Other people being his friend, Puck.
He's noticed that she's noticing back.
He stores up whatever this huge emotion is day after day, until it has to be set free.
He interrupts the girls during their practice, walks straight past Quinn to stand before Rachel and whisper roughly that they really need to talk.
She tells the rest of the group that she'll be right back and follows him to a quiet practice room. The moment the door closes behind him, he locks it.
"What did you want to say," she asks so innocently. Sitting on top of the table in the room, her legs crossed primly even though she's wearing pants for the first time in weeks.
He walks over to her placing a hand against the wall on either side of her body, trapping her in place. Her legs uncross, and his hips settle between them as he leans into his arms and moves his mouth on hers.
Her response is immediate and unsettling. Her body comes closer to the edge of the table, her legs wrapping around his, her head lifting higher to give him more. He takes it, begging her silently to open her lips and let him in. Tongues brushing, tasting, teasing. And he finally knows her taste. Not the lip gloss he's had before or the sweetened coffee of Quinn, but pure Rachel – like beautiful spring, hints of berries and desperation and wanting.
One hand moves to her face, caressing her cheek, as his lips open over hers again, pleading for another glimpse into her soul.
The other hand reaches for hers. Their fingers lace together and come to rest between her heart and his.
And the tightness in his chest is gone. All those days of wondering are nothing compared with this moment right now.
He breaks away, gasping for air, holding her hand and her face. Looking so deeply into Rachel he can see the moment she remembers that he belongs to someone else.
"Don't," he says. "This is my choice, and they'll be my consequences. Not yours. Never yours." His fingers trail down her cheek, then her neck, all the way to her shoulder. Down her arm until both of their hands are locked together. He places small kisses on each one of her fingers before stepping back, allowing her to readjust herself before leaving.
"I don't like it, you know," he says.
"What?" Her voice is raspy and oh so wonderful.
"You looking at Puck the way you do." He can't believe he started this conversation. What does he expect to happen? He hits himself mentally.
"Well, I can't have you, so why not?" She moves a finger along her lips. He thinks she's checking her lipstick or gloss or whatever, but it's long gone. He hopes he's not wearing it.
As if she's reading his thoughts she moves that same finger along his own lips, rubbing softly at the corners to remove any evidence. Then she's gone and he's alone.
"Yeah, why not." He speaks aloud to no one.