Most days, Mercedes Jones feels like a loser. She spend most of her days feeling like she doesn't belong. She's spent too many days that bled into years feeling like she doesn't quite fit. She watches from the sidelines as Finn brushes past Rachel's awkward advances. She watches as he says no to every girl that ever asks him for more than friendship. She watches the way his ears burn a light pink color when she sings songs about love. She watches Kurt as he pretends not to notice that Finn's eyes stay locked on her the entire time.
Most nights, Mercedes Jones feels like a winner. She fits perfectly into thick, strong arms. They play together like music that shouldn't sound beautiful but works its way under your skin to rest on your bones. Surrounded by the darkness of the night, she tastes herself on his skin and she thinks she knows what victory tastes like.
First and Last
Fire burns its way though his veins. His blood boils in his ears and he can't remember a moment when he was ever this angry. Karofsky had Mercedes pressed up against a locker and even from the other end of the hall, Finn can see her struggling. Hear her muffled cries against Karofsky's lips. Everyone knows that Mercedes is Finn's girl. But they don't know that Dave is stealing her first kiss. Something they've been saving. Something she wanted to wait to give him until he was sure about her.
The skin on his knuckles lights up as blood explodes from Karofsky's nose. His eyes blur as anger chokes him. It isn't until he feels his back pressed against Mercedes' chest that the cloud clears. His chest is heaving and her hands are shaking against his biceps. Her tears drop helplessly against the back of his cotton shirt and her breath shudders in gasps of relief.
Later that night, she falls asleep against his shoulder. Her breath is warm and sweet against his neck. He knows that he can never be her first kiss. But he promises to be her last.
Life In Short Sounds
It's in the loud guffawing bursts. It's in the half-hearted chuckle that always reminds him that she's humoring him. It's in the shy giggle that always happens the minute he ever calls her beautiful. It's in the fake plastic crinkle that she only uses when Rachel makes an insensitive comment. It's in the quiet barely contained squeal that always shatters the mood when his hands skim over all her secret ticklish places. It's in the breathy laughing gasp that she can never hold back after she's come and he presses his forehead against hers. He wants to find the person behind and in between all those different laughs. He aches to live with that person. The one that's honest in the space between. Because he thinks he could love her and most of him thinks she could love him back
His mom stopped hugging him after he turned twelve. He doesn't think she did it on purpose but soon she just stopped. He's too shy to ask for them and after the time that she hugged him after no one but Puck came to his birthday party she never did it unsolicited. In fact no one hugs him anymore. Quinn hardly let him near her and Rachel spends most of her time in her own head.
He always thought it was because he was too big. Too much for most people to embrace. Even Mr Schue's hug had felt forced. The light grip on his shoulders wasn't enough and he only left feeling embarrassed by how hard he'd hugged someone who didn't hug him back as hard.
It isn't until he's seventeen that he feels that comforting rush of pressure and warmth. They've just won Nationals and he can see Rachel jump into Mike's arms. He smiles to himself because he's happy Rachel was finally able to find someone who liked to listen just as much as she liked to talk.
Strong arms wrap around his neck and he is pulled down into the tightest hug he could ever remember getting. When he returns the hug, it tightens even further and satisfaction tingles its way up his spine. He burrows his face into her neck and he can smell peaches. He smiles against her soft skin.
Mercedes always smells like peaches.
H-E-Double Hockey Sticks
It didn't happen often. It came in little slips that he learned never to remark upon. He kept those times close to him. The small moments that she didn't censor herself. The harsh whisper of fuck, baby and the loud shout of so fuckin' good were the sounds that got him through the nights when he couldn't sneak in through her bedroom window.
They've spent hours slipping in and through each other. They left room after room with the each others smell on their skin. She left blushing that she had gotten so vocal and he left with the words painting a blush across his cheek.
Soon, she'll be able to talk about love and that forever is what she feels when they touch. Until then he comforts himself with the fact that she never swears in public.
She's Not Quinn
Part of her should have known. She remembers that way her father used to mutter hateful things under his breath when they would pass a biracial kid. She should have known but that didn't change to sick feeling that settles into the pit of her stomach. Her dad had just thrown out of the house. The grass was thick under her feet and her hand was resting protectively over belly. It took her three months for her to tell her father. She knew what would happen if she told him before it was too late to i'deal with it'/i. Finn tells her he always has a home with him but it isn't until Carole presses her into a hard hug and ushers her inside that she thinks that might be true. Falling asleep wrapped in his arms, she hopes that their son has Finn's eyes.
A Few Of His Favorite Things
He wants to shout it from the rooftops. He can't believe that she would choose him. To him, she's the most beautiful girl in the whole world. She wants to keep them quiet. She doesn't want to be the one that lowers his social standing. This is one of those situations that he really doesn't care. She's his glee club. She's his football. She's his mac and cheese. She's his boom and his bip. She's his and she worth more than all of that.
So yeah, he wants to shout it from the rooftops but he'll have to settle for hallway kisses and taking her to the prom.