Finn Hudson loves his girlfriend. Really, he does. She's really cool, and she's always nice and herself and stuff. It also doesn't hurt that she's hot. Like, she's really hot.
So he can understand Jew-Fro's obsession with her. He really can! Does that mean he likes it? No fucking way. He knows Rachel doesn't like it either (well, he knows she likes being the center of attention. His pervy fantasies? Not so much). So he's confused.
Why does she have the kitten?
He hates Jew-Fro, he really does. Not only is he constantly hitting on his girlfriend (the time he tried to take an up-skirt photo still makes Finn's blood boil) but he got her a kitten. And not just any kitten.
The worst kitten known to mankind.
Is Finn exaggerating? No. Maybe even a little? ABSOLUTELY NOT.
His girlfriend loves that kitten. Literally, he thinks it may come several notches above him on her favorite people scale. And it's not even a person! Right now, he should be using this precious alone time with Rachel by pushing her back on the bed and having his way with her.
What is he doing instead?
He's watching her scratch that evil kitten's ears. He's pretty sure the kitten is smirking at him. She has the kitten pressed tight against her chest, and it's paw is resting right above the neckline of her dress. She's rubbing her hand down it's back, cooing sweet talk to it.
It strikes him how utterly wrong it is for the kitten to get boob instead of him. He loves Rachel's boobs - his hands cup them perfectly. They're so warm and soft - everything about her is, except her nipples which are so hard. He's finding himself with something hard of his own, and he looks down at his lap, embarrassed.
She's scratching the kitten's back now, and he's reminded of the time he fucked her against a wall. They'd been in glee, but everyone else had left. He still had faint scars down his back from her nails. "They'll know you're mine now," she'd beamed, putting bandaids on his bleeding wounds.
He's really hard now, and a little bit annoyed. Her dads are never away like this. They always have to go to his house, and his bed just doesn't fit them like hers does. His bed can barely fit him.
Finn's really and truly annoyed by now. He's been high and dry for a week. A week of at least one of her dads in the kitchen, 'popping in' every few minutes for some obsolete reason. He knows if his mom was home while they were there it would be the same, but he still resents it.
"Fuck it," he growls under his breath. He takes the kitten from her, ignoring her protests. Opening the door, he sets it outside her bedroom.
"What'd you do that for?" she asks, outraged. He takes a few long strides and reaches her, his fingers pressing tightly into her hips as their lips crash together. Her fingers entwine in his hair, pulling him closer and falling back onto the bed.
"You drive me crazy, you know that?" he asked, kissing down her neck. She let out a strangled moan as his fingers reached up and tweaked her nipple through her shirt. "I'd hoped we could use this time more.. productively."
"Good word!" she said, her voice embarrassingly husky, squeaking on the 'w.' He was pulling her shirt off now, kissing up from her hips to her stomach. His tongue dipped down into her belly button, heading for her breasts. "Mmf," she moaned, her head falling back against the pillow. His fingers flipped up her skirt, pulling down her panties.
Her tiny hands reached for his jeans, unbuttoning them and pushing them down to his ankles. "I've missed this," she admitted. "Do you have a condom?" Finn turned around at the sound of the door squeaking.
At the door, silhouetted by the beige hallway decor, the kitten stood. In it's mouth was an unwrapped condom. Finn rolled off of Rachel and onto the floor, putting his hand on his forehead.
Did Jew-Fro specially train it or something?