The Next Lesson
Author's Note: This was an accident. I really wasn't intending to write anything like this, ever, so I don't know what came over me. I had no idea that when I was furious, something so smutty could come out. At any rate, if anyone bothers to read it, I hope you enjoy. Set Post-Special Education, or as I like to call the episode 'That hour where I kept yelling at the television and throwing things.'
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. Otherwise we'd have to show it on subscription cable way late at night apparently.
The knock on the door to his bedroom was barely audible, hesitant and soft. Finn figured it'd be awhile before his (he had to get used to saying this) family weren't walking on eggshells around him.
It'd been three weeks since his break-up with Rachel, and his general mood had yet to improve. He felt bad with the holidays coming up, especially since this was their first Christmas all together, but he just couldn't pretend at home like he did at school.
Staring at his new ceiling, he took a deep breath before calling out, "Come in."
He just hoped his mom wasn't going to ask him about what happened again.
But even without looking, he knew instantly that it wasn't his mom who entered the room. Her smell, the feel of her presence, these were things he could never forget or ignore. Even if right now he desperately, desperately, wanted to.
He refused to glance over at her as she shut the door behind her and edged slowly towards his bed, so he pretended the paint patterns above him were fascinating.
"What are you doing here?" He hated the sound of his own bitter voice, but he could almost feel the air shift at her wince so he found it to at least be effective.
"Kurt let me in on his way out. I needed to talk to you."
A disbelieving snort and a roll of his eyes were his response.
"Finn, please look at me." Her voice was so distressed, pleading.
"No." His remained cold, flat.
For as long as they'd been apart, her apologies had been quiet, her approach always wary and oozing with sorrow. So when he heard the frustrated growl rip from her delicate throat and her foot stomp petulantly against his floor, he was genuinely surprised…and almost amused. But he was still too angry, too heartbroken, to find her tantrums endearing.
"Finn Hudson, I have a proposition that I believe you will find, at the very least, thoroughly interesting, so please look at me. This instant."
His eyes rolled back in frustration, but he was starting to pick up on her determined vibes. He wanted her out of his room, out of his life, and figured she'd be on her way much faster if he just sucked it up and listened to whatever had brought her here. He just hoped she could say her bit and leave without hurting him anymore.
"Fine." He sat up swiftly, swinging his long legs down over the side of the bed. As he took in the sight of her, he forcefully kept all reactions from his face. She looked beautiful. Her hair curled, her bangs swept to the side, her lips glossy. Her eyes were wide and dancing with so many emotions he couldn't pick them all out. Not even a month ago, he'd have found the sight of her like this totally irresistible. As it was, he still found it difficult to resist, but he was managing. "Talk."
She seemed surprised by his willingness to play along and a strong wave of nervousness twisted her lips and clouded her eyes, but then she nodded resolutely and took another step closer.
"I think we should have sex."
She could have told him she was an alien insect from five galaxies over and wanted to take him with her onto the returning mothership and he would have understood her better.
"You. Me. Sex. I think it should happen. Preferably now."
It was her turn to roll her eyes, but he didn't think she really had expected any other reaction from him. The words coming out of her mouth were nonsensical. She had to know that.
"Your mother and Burt were pulling out as I arrived. When Kurt let me in he mentioned they were heading to Columbus for a night out, and that he was off to meet Blaine for a movie. I expect he thought I'd find the empty house appealing for a screaming match, or possibly a heartfelt and desperate serenade, but it actually works out even better for this purpose."
"Rachel, we're broken up. We're not having sex. God, what has gotten into you? You didn't want to have sex when we were dating."
"I most certainly did too. I was just scared, wanting the timing to be absolutely perfect, wanting to be totally prepared. But I definitely wanted to. Still want to, and I do not see how the broken up part is in any way relevant in this matter."
"You've officially gone crazy."
"No, Finn. I haven't. You slept with Santana. You weren't dating her, you didn't love her. I suspect you didn't really even like her. You just wanted to have sex and she was hot. Well, I can be hot too, Finn."
She took the last step towards him, now close enough to touch or be touched, and put her hands on the bottom edge of her sweater. Pulling it up slowly and carefully, she finally freed herself from it completely and tossed it gently to the floor.
His mouth went dry, and his eyes were wide, and part of him was panicking but a much more aggressive part of him was hanging on her every word and paralyzed, waiting for her to continue.
"And I, I've been saving myself for you. That's why I couldn't stay with Puck last year, even while thinking you and Quinn were never going to break up. That's why when I dated Jesse, who I did care about and who I thought cared about me, I still couldn't go through with sleeping with him. Because I loved you. I've always loved you. And I've always wanted you to see me, touch me, be with me, first."
Her fingers skillfully unbuttoned her skirt and held it up just a flash of a second before letting it fall.
"I know it's a tad unconventional. Considering once upon a time I assumed that this moment between us would go very differently. I'd say I was ready and you'd sweep me off my feet and lay me down and it would just be fireworks and magic. I thought that's how it would go really for the rest of our lives. But that's not how it is going to be, is it? You're never going to forgive me. We're never getting passed this. But I still love you, only you, Finn. So I still want you to be my first. Even if it doesn't mean anything more than sex to you."
His brain was loud and crowded chaos as a million thoughts went through his head, and he couldn't pick out one to think through first. She just stared at him expectantly, obviously uncomfortable standing there barely wearing anything, but still meeting his eyes bravely, hopefully. She was certifiably insane. There was no other explanation. And suddenly he was more enraged than anything over the ridiculousness of her coming to him, for this, now.
"Rachel, you do not get to act like I'm the reason we don't get the fairytale we both were expecting. You broke my heart. Do you not see that? You cheated on me and it's killing me. All those thoughts about fireworks and magic? I had them too. And now they are gone. And it is not all on me. It's not."
He sat looking up at her and saw the tears in her eyes and for some reason that made him even angrier. Probably because he still hated to see her cry.
He stood up abruptly, causing her to take just a fraction of a step back in surprise. "And how dare you suggest that it could ever be just about sex for me with you? I mean, do you fall out of love that easily? Could you already forget the last six months? Hell, the last year? It's been three weeks, Rachel. And I'm a mess. And you honestly think I could touch you and kiss you and finally be with you, and have it just be like any other warm body to me? You're not stupid, so you really must just be out of your mind."
They were so close as he stood there, studying her face, her tears falling freely now, silently down her cheeks. His breathing was heavy from the exertion of trying to understand how they found themselves here and what was even happening to them. As his words diffused through the room, his eyes looked down, beyond her sad, pretty face, to all the skin of her neck and shoulders, to the slight rounded flesh visible above the lace at her chest. Without thinking, without meaning to, his right hand rose just slightly to brush the exposed skin at her side and he watched her eyes slip shut, her breathing shudder at his touch. A sensation of both dread and want sprinkled along his back, tingling down his spine, and his own breathing stayed heavy as her eyes opened slowly again and looked into his.
He felt his hand move again of its own accord, trailing fingertips up the ridges of her ribs under her silken flesh, sliding under the curve of her breast, before slipping back down her side. She watched him the entire time, confusion evident but underlined by something else, something darker and mesmerizing. Suddenly he grabbed her hip roughly, pulling her the inch or so necessary to be flushed fully, wonderfully, against him, and then his lips were on hers with bruising force and speed.
He heard and felt her moan into his mouth as her arms circled his neck, slipped down to his shoulders, pulling just enough for him to know to hoist her up, curling her bare legs around his waist. He groaned at the sensation, and at the memory of how little she had on, spreading his fingers as he cradled her to him with his large hands to contact all the skin that he could.
He sat carefully on the bed, helping her adjust her legs to kneel on either side of his hips, then lifting his arms to help her remove his t-shirt. At the sight and feel of his uncovered chest, she instinctively arched herself into him a little, and instantly whimpered from the feeling. He was so turned on, but his anger hadn't left. He hated that he wondered if Puck had ever heard her make that sound, if Puck had heard sounds of her pleasure that he himself hadn't. And in that moment he wanted nothing more than to make sure that could never be the case.
They were already so beyond anything they'd ever done before, back when they were dating and happily in love and sure they had forever, that he didn't feel the need to show the caution he always had before with her. Running his hand down her side, he never stopped kissing her as he brought his fingers down between them, pressing against her through the damp fabric for the first time. The sigh of shock and ecstasy that escaped her parted lips had him harder in an instant, and as she raised herself up more onto her knees he slipped his finger passed the lace and inside. And the fluttering of wonderful chills throughout his entire body at her feel, at her sound, at her, couldn't even stop his bitter voice from returning as he whispered against her lips, "Did you ever feel like this for him? Did you?"
Her eyes were shut tight and her fingernails pressing into his shoulder sharply, but her hoarse voice was still sure as she told him no. She shook her head and continued, eyes still shut, "Only you."
He kissed her again, just as he pressed another finger into her and quickened the pace as she moved against him.
"Finn..." It was just a breath, formed carefully to his name, but he heard everything else wrapped inside of it. Sorry. Please. Yours. Always.
He brought his kisses down to her chest, sucking at skin along the top of her bra, and then covered the small mound of her breast with his mouth, breathing hot moist air onto her through the thin black cloth. A sharp cry of delight from her sounded like victory as he moved his mouth back to hers and continued to work his fingers faster.
He bit at her lip as he felt her tense completely, then shaking, collapse against his chest. Her hips slowed, but didn't still, and she moaned as she pulled her lips away and began kissing, wet and with purpose, up his jaw to his ear and then down his neck. She stopped when she reached his shoulder, dragging her teeth against his skin lightly, then easing her tongue back over it. She sucked gently for a moment before nipping it harder, then kissing it softly.
His mouth fell open, panting, as he pulled her more firmly against his lap. Speaking through kisses pressed hotly against his flesh, she asked if Santana had found this spot, the exact place she always went to when she wanted to feel him react.
He could feel her smile smugly against him before biting down again. He knew she was trying to leave a mark.
He also knew that this was wrong. That they were both hurt and angry and there had been weeks now of misery between them. But as she continued to kiss down his chest, the fingers of her left hand tickling with hesitancy along the top of his jeans, he couldn't find it within him to stop. He loved her. Despite everything, that was as true as ever. And even without the surrounding sweetness he'd always imagined for them, he knew this would always mean more with Rachel than it ever could with anyone else. So he closed his eyes and enjoyed the tentative brush of her tongue against his nipple as he gently kneaded the soft flesh of her lower back with his hands.
"Rachel." Her name, textured with wanting more, always more, filled the room. She pulled her mouth away and he opened his eyes to find her looking at him, eyes tear-filled but she was slightly smiling.
"Say it again?" It wasn't a demand. It was a soft request and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Smiling a little wider she brushed her hand against the crotch of his pants and then repeated the action with a little more pressure. She leaned up to his ear and sucked the lobe just a moment before repeating her plea. "Please say my name like that again?"
Then she rolled her hips against him as her hot breath caressed his ear.
"Oh, God, Rachel…"
She continued to move slowly in his lap as she whispered, "That's the first time you've said my name without anger in so long, Finn. When you say it like that it just sounds like you love me, like you need me. I'd do anything, anything, to hear you say my name that way."
Gently grabbing her, he brought her face to his while stilling her hips with his other hand, "Even when the anger is there, the love is too. It wouldn't hurt me like this if I didn't love you so much."
"Then forgive me, Finn. Please. I'm so sorry. So, so sorry. I was so hurt, and angry, it made me crazy and so stupid and jealous. But it didn't mean anything with Puck. It couldn't. Even that, in it's messed up way, was just because I love you so intensely. I just broke when I found out about Santana. And when I saw you smile at her, I ju-"
"Saw me smile at her?"
"It was in the hallway at school. I was trying to find a way to come up to you, with a plan on how to make things better. I was watching you and wondering if you missed me. Because I missed you so much. On top of everything else you're my best friend, and I hurt so badly but had no one to talk to. And then Santana walks by, and the way you looked at her, I…God, I know I shouldn't have let it bother me. She's a very pretty girl and just because you appreciate that doesn't mean you don't love me. But it felt like it did, Finn. In that moment, it felt like it, you and her, wasn't just something from a long time ago, before we got together. It was like it could happen any moment. Like I could just look up and you'd be gone."
"Rachel," he shook his head, at a loss for words. How could she have thought that?
"It happened before. You left me for her, for everything she can offer that I can't. And it was seeing me with someone else that brought you back to me. I thought, maybe, if you thought you could lose me too, you'd remember all the things I can offer that she can't."
He could hear the tears in her voice before he saw them in her eyes. Shame and regret coloring her cheeks, and the longing in her gaze stole his breath. He thought he probably wore a similar expression.
"There's nothing, nothing, that I want that you can't offer." He brought her body as tightly to his own as he could, so that she was totally surrounded by his arms and his love and how much he fucking wanted her. "She meant nothing, she means nothing. And you, Rach, you mean everything. There's so much that only you can offer." He lifted his hips towards her. "Like this. I can't make love with anyone but you."
Her breath hitched at the friction, at the renewed husk in his voice. The sweat that had covered her skin earlier had cooled a little, but everywhere was still sensitive, every nerve still hyperaware of each tiny shift of his body against her own.
He raised an eyebrow at her, a serious but adorable expression that almost had her gasping with relief. She nodded and he offered a faint smile as his eyes glazed slightly.
Slowly, she began working her hips again, building towards a steady rhythm against him. She kept her eyes on his as she reached behind her and with a flick of her wrist the thin straps at her shoulders came loose. His hands came up to catch them, sliding them down slowly, kissing her bare shoulders as they passed.
When he finally pulled it all away, the sound of appreciation that left his throat defied description and sent a chill of anticipation through Rachel's entire frame.
He took care to cover every bit of newly exposed flesh with kisses. Using his warm breath and his wet tongue to pull a melody from her that was the sweetest music he'd ever heard, he then used his teeth against her for a soft scream.
He looked up to see the euphoria on her face. Her lips, so swollen and moist and perfect, fell against his in an almost kiss. She held them there, eyes closed, erratic breaths mingling, before she spoke, quieter than ever. "Please, Finn. Please."
He turned there bodies, angling her towards the mattress before lifting himself up and straightening his limbs out to lean over top of her. He looked down at the way she pressed against his pillows, dark curls splayed gorgeously around her head. Her naked chest rose and fell with each breath and a blush of want and arousal made every inch of her a delicious pink. Toying with the edge of her panties, he looked up at her, and she lifted her hips for him to pull them off. Then he stood to quickly undress himself the rest of the way.
He watched her watch him and the way her eyes grew bigger as he kicked his boxers away made him want to chuckle. She certainly hadn't been playing the innocent all afternoon, but he couldn't forget that this was new to her, special, and he thanked Grilled Cheesus that neither his mistakes nor hers, that neither Santana or Puck, could take this moment away from them.
Returning to his place above her, he danced a hand down the full length of her and followed its movements carefully with his eyes. When he brought his fingers between her legs again, she arched off the bed and bit her bottom lip, sexier than she could ever realize.
"You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my entire life, Rachel. Nothing comes close."
Still playing her lightly with his fingers, he licked at the peak of her breast and then blew on it softly to see her squirm, before sucking it into his mouth, eyes still set in a solid lock with hers. She moaned, and he moaned, and he pressed his fingers to her a little harder. She was panting and sighing, faster and louder. He lifted his head to press his lips to hers again. "I've never wanted anyone as much as I want you right now. And I don't think I could ever love anyone else half as much."
"Finn…" She could barely get his name out in between the desperate sounds she was making and he could tell she was struggling to keep her eyes open.
"I love you. And I'm sorry. I really wish you were my first. But if I have any say about it, you're going to be my last. And I hope that counts for something."
She nodded furiously as she roughly grasped at the back of his neck and brought his mouth to hers.
"Now." She broke the kiss for the length of the word and then was kissing him again as he shifted his body once more and put himself at the edge of everything he'd ever need, everything he couldn't believe he'd ever thought he could give up.
He took a deep breath and moved. There was a moment of pain on her face but the "I love you"s she was repeating assured him she was alright.
And then everything was light and dark and the most perfect feeling and her name.
Everything was her name, and fireworks and magic.
And when he realized he had collapsed onto her shoulder, he could only remember the look on her face as she'd fallen to pieces and he instantly wanted to see it again.
He tried to roll away, to keep from crushing her, but she clung to him and shook her head as her breathing slowed. "No. Stay."
"I'm too big, I'll-"
"You're just right. Stay."
Compromising, he just pulled her with him as he rolled so that she was perched bonelessly upon his chest.
He pulled at his blankets as best he could with no energy and one arm, as he refused to move the one coiled around her waist, until they were mostly covered.
"How do you feel?"
"At this moment, I feel full and real in a way I never have before. Complete. And a little sore." She moved her head just enough to catch his eye. "How do you feel?"
"I know we have a lot we probably still have to work on, to make things all the way right, but this was more than I ever imagined. Not just the physical parts, either. You know? I don't ever want to be without you again, Rach. These last three weeks have been hell."
"I know. I don't want to ever be without you again, either."
"So, risking a new heartbreaking secret, I repeat: No more lying. Ever."
"And Ms. Pillsbury-Howell was wrong. I'd rather you slap me than storm out next time."
"Really?" Her voice sounded both amused and skeptical.
"If you're slapping me, you're with me, and so long as you're with me, we can work things out."
He felt her smile widen against his chest. "Yeah."
"I love you, Rachel."
She pressed a kiss to his skin, just over his heart. "With every bit of me, Finn Hudson, I love you, too."
He sighed contentedly as she snuggled in deeper, pressing against him like she wanted to melt into him.
He knew the feeling.