Title Undeniably, Inexplicably
Author Devylish
Fandom Glee
Pairing Santana/Finn
Rating R
Warning (L/S)
Words 3530
Disclaimer On profile
A/N Just a little Sinn fic.


I will handle this with class and fucking aplomb.

I will not cry...

I will not squeal...

And I most definitely will not jump his bones in the middle of the fucking airport.

Santana looked at her reflection in the mirror one more time before forcing herself to leave the restroom.

Settling back into one of the chairs in the airport lounge, she crossed her legs resolutely.

Within five seconds she was swinging her foot back and forth in anticipation.

Fuck-it Lopez, he's only been gone for two weeks. This is ridiculous. You shouldn't be this anxious to see him.

Horny, maybe.

Two weeks with nothing more than BOB and two sex calls from him is definitely enough to leave you horny. Especially since he's been giving it to you on the regular for the last six months.

So the bone jumping part, okay, yeah, that makes sense. But the wanting to maybe cry or squeal just because he's home...? What the fuck is up with that?

She uncrossed her legs and recrossed them the other direction. She and Finn had accidentally started dating eight months ago. They had both been studying for their mid year finals (her in Social Services and him in History) when they ran into one another at the library.

They'd, of course, known they were at the same University (UW Madison- Wisconsin- a large public university known for its football and its partying abilities) but in the four years since they'd left Lima, their paths and their circle of friends had never really crossed on campus. And honestly, if both of them hadn't needed to really focus on their studying during those last few weeks of the fall semester of their senior year, they probably never would have found one another.

But they had needed to study.

And they had found one another.

Santana had been curled up in one of the few comfy chairs on the library's fifth floor, her books spread out on the table before her, laptop on her lap, when:

"Is this seat taken?"

The question was loudly whispered and Santana puffed out a breath of irritated air at one of the oldest and worst pick-up lines she'd ever heard, and she wound herself up to tell whoever was interrupting her sanctified study space to 'fuck off', when she looked up and realized she knew the intruder.

"Hudson!"

Finn had stumbled back in surprise, then squinted his eyes in disbelief, before breaking into that goofy half grin he was known for. "Santana!"

Without invitation he dropped his book bag onto the table next to her stuff and dropped his still overly-tall figure into the other empty, well cushioned chair that sat next to Santana's.

They spent a few minutes catching up: Social Services. History. Internship as a case-manager. Scouted by a few pro football teams. No longer gay – more 'bi'. Still straight. Single. Single.

And then their conversation dried up and fell into silence, both of them thinking about Glee Club, McKinley High and all of the good and bad that had been Lima, Ohio.

They both, somewhat sheepishly, turned their focus back to their books and laptops, and silently dug into their studies.

Four hours, and a few contraband bottled waters later, and they parted ways.

But they found one another again the next night.. In the same spot.

After that, it more or less became a habit; the two of them studying in their fortress of books, laptops and comfy chairs.

There were a few nights when Santana had to boot someone out of their little corner; but for the most part, students had already found their study spots on campus and Finn and Santana could study in peace.

And for the most part it was peaceful. Surprisingly so. She found that big clunky Finn Hudson had gained grace and had learned the skill of keeping his mouth shut.

It was attractive.

As were the tight abs and college football trimmed body.

Santana didn't notice the changes in Finn immediately, but she noticed them within a few nights of studying. And while she made no plans to hunt him down and drag him off to her bed, she definitely enjoyed looking at the eye-candy.

It wasn't until the night of her last exam that anything roman – sexy – happened between them.

She walked out of her exam at 8pm, a tired smile on her face, only to find Finn sitting on the floor outside of her classroom, playing a game on his phone.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

He looked up and blinked, then he grinned and pushed himself off of the floor. Ignoring her question he asked one of his own, "how'd the exam go?"

"Aced it... I think." She nearly snorted in disbelief when Finn reached over, took her book bag from her, and threw it across his own shoulder. She raised a brow, "I repeat, what the fuck are you doing here?"

"Well, I finished my exam a couple of hours ago, and I knew you were finishing yours, and I was thinking that maybe we could go get something to eat. We've been studying hard and I think we both deserve a good meal."

She didn't over-analyze the invite. It was, after all, just Finn. And nothing could ever really happen between the two of them; they'd danced around that possibility in high school. "Will there be beer at this 'good meal'?"

Finn looked down at her as if she was insane. "Uh... duh!"

She grinned and let him take her arm in his hand and lead her down the hall.

(())

When she woke up in Finn's bed the next morning, her head didn't hurt nearly as much as it should have. Apparently the physical activities of the night before had kicked the ass of the Pacifico's and the tequila they'd had at the restaurant.

And by physical activities, yeah, she meant sex.

Hot hot, monkey lovin' sex.

Finn, between sophomore year in high school, and senior year of college, had learned some skills. He'd always had the right tools (read 'big' here), but the night she'd taken his virginity, it had definitely been more a case of: put pole A in hole B and flip the switch. Last night... last night was good.

Better than good.

It had been hot and sweaty and... where the hell had he learned to do those things with his tongue? She refused to believe that Berry had taught him any of those tricks.

… Then again, Berry had to have some freak in her to have caught and kept Puck all these years.

Hmm... I may owe Berry a 'thank you' the next time I speak to her.

(())

The next few months flew by.

Classes, studying, dating...

Yeah. Dating.

Finn Hudson somehow tricked her into dating him.

They'd driven up to Victoria's - this kick ass Italian restaurant run by Mexicans- in Appleton, WI and Santana was about to dig into her tiramasu when she realized... they'd driven up to Appleton to have dinner. Together. She dropped her fork and stared at Finn.

"This is a fucking date!"

He reached across the table with his fork and dug into her dessert, "Yup."

She glanced up at the ceiling, calculating, then looked back at Finn, "this is like our... third date!"

He nodded in agreement. "Yup."

"So... we're dating?"

"Yup."

"What the fuck, Finn!"

"What?"

"We're dating! I don't date! I'm not the dating type! What the fuck!"

Finn calmly reached for another scoop of Santana's tiramisu. "You weren't the dating type." He flashed that stupidly cute little boy grin of his at her. "You've been doing a great job of dating me."

She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him from across the table. "Did you even think to ask me if I wanted to date you?"

"No." He dragged her dessert plate to his side of the table.

"Listen Hudson –."

"San... we spend all of our time together. We study together, we sleep together, we," he flushed and lowered his voice, "do more than sleep together." He grinned again and shrugged, "We're dating."

"What the hell happened to friends with benefits. How'd we go from friends, to dating, without hitting the friends with benefits stage?"

Finn scrunched his head to the side. "I don't really do friends with benefits."

"Yeah well I don't do dating."

"San..." He wound himself to try and convince her everything was okay, but she beat him to it.

"You know this won't work right?" She eyed the big man-child who sat across from her, apparently oblivious to the dangerous path he was traversing. "I'll get pissed because you're too touchy/feely, or you'll get pissed because I'm not touchy/feely enough." She leaned forward, "I'm never going to be the girl who takes your hand in the mall or who leaves you little love notes or stupid-ass shit like that."

Finn leaned across the table until his face was just inches away from hers, "So I'll write you love notes and I'll take your hand in the mall... I think you're worth taking a chance on."

She'd grumbled, as expected, but something,... something small in the middle of her chest had fluttered and shimmered at Finn's words.

(())

So yeah, she literally fell ass-backwards into dating Finn Hudson.

Fortunately for him, Hudson kept the dating comments and rhetoric to the minimum. He didn't run around telling people that they were seeing one another. In fact he only did those smushy little romantic 'dating' things that made her smile, when they were alone.

Things like calling her 'babe', or things like giving her flowers for 'no reason'.

She decided that as long as he kept sexing her up and didn't make things weird by getting too clingy or putting all of their shit out there for the world to see – she could deal with an occasional rose or the rare 'babe'.

And honestly, there WAS shit about the dating situation that she'd found she didn't mind.

Things like doing laundry together.

.

.

.

Shut up!

She fucking HATED doing laundry, but Finn, Finn was good at that crap. He'd started dragging her down to the washers and dryers on Tuesday nights and he making her study while they waited for the machines.

Tuesday nights turned out to be a great night to study and to do laundry.

And have sex. Yeah, they had sex on one of the dryers one Tuesday night, and suddenly, Santana was totally supportive of doing laundry...

Dating also meant she had a bed warmer. Finn's body was always toasty-warm, while her body, her hands and feet in particular, were nearly always cold at night. So having his frame to curl up against – like some sort of giant human sized heater - was nice.

.

.

.

WHAT! Shut. The. Fuck. Up! She was NOT cuddling! She was simply... trying to stay warm.

Drop it!

.

.

.

So, yeah, Santana let the dating thing slide.

(())

It wasn't until like the fourth month of them going out/dating/whatever, that the unthinkable happened.

Santana called Finn her boyfriend.

In public.

While she was sober.

They were at an 'end of the year' party at Finn's frat house, and per usual – per her rules – they were mingling separately. Her on one side of the room, him on the other.

Even though they didn't 'hang out' at these kind of gatherings, they were both very aware of one another. She kept her eyes on him, and he kept his on her as they laughed, chatted, drank, and snacked their ways around the room.

She had just picked up her third cup of beer when she turned around and scanned the darkened room looking for Finn.

He was about ten feet away from her, leaning against the wall with a couple of his frat brothers... and a petite blonde.

The blonde was staring up at Finn with a predatory look; her eyes big and brilliant even from this distance. Santana watched the tip of the girl's pink tongue dart out between her lips as she blinked up at Finn.

Then Santana lifted her glance up to Finn's face and found that he was smiling his polite, unaware smile.

Good boy, she thought as she sipped her beer. She was comfortable with other girls wanting to be near Finn. He'd been the golden boy ever since she met him on the play grounds of Edison Elementary in fourth grade; with little girls anxious to have him push them on the swings and pull their pigtails.

And she definitely understood the attraction. Finn was: tall, good looking, built, he had a killer smile, he was sickeningly sweet, and he was a football player... Not that she'd actually ever made a list or anything.

But yeah, she was use to Finn attracting other girls.

... But she was also very use to his being more or less oblivious to the flirting and frippery of those girls.

She let her eyes scan the party again, her feet moving in tempo to the music and after a few seconds she let her attention fall back on Finn.

Well fuck! Santana tilted her head to the left as she watched the little blonde who had been buzzing around Finn, press in to his side, her hand on his arm.

Yeah... her hand was on Finn's fucking arm.

Finn looked like a deer caught in the headlights, kind of frozen and big eyed at the situation he found himself in. And Santana found herself standing in front of him before she was even aware that she'd moved.

Not even sparing a glance at the blonde, Santana put her hand on Finn's chest, a half smile – a dangerous half smile – on her face.

"Someone needs to tell a certain peroxide blonde bitch to take her hands off of you." She said this loudly enough to be heard by Finn – and the girl – over the thrumming beat of the music pouring through the frat house.

She could see Finn biting back a smile.

"He's not wearing a 'don't touch' sign or anything," Ellie Mae Clampett twanged in response.

Santana turned to face the woman who still had her claws on Finn's arm. A bare 7-8 inches separated her from her nemesis but she stepped even closer. "I'm his fucking 'don't touch' sign." The girl opened her mouth to retort, but Santana cut her off. "Take your wannabe Taylor Swift blonde extensions and your back-woods ho mini skirted claws off of my boyfriend before I take them off for you."

The girl's eyes opened wide, and she glanced up at Finn who was still doing his best to bite back a grin, and then she let go of him and pouted. "Fine, he's too tall anyway," she spat out before turning and walking away.

Santana grinned: apparently, she hadn't lost her Lima Heights bitch skills.

She was still grinning when she felt Finn's arms slip around her waist. "Boyfriend? Did you just call me your 'boyfriend'? Out loud? In public?"

"Shut up."

He laughed and she tried to pull out of his grip but he simply tightened his arms, a chuckle vibrating through his frame.

He didn't say anything else about her slip of the lip, but he also didn't leave her side for the rest of the evening. He stood by her side, hovering around her, his hands constantly upon her, circling her waist or her hip or her arm.

And at the end of the night, as she pulled him across the threshold of her apartment, she realized that being held by him, touched by him – in public – hadn't been as horrible or as suffocating as she'd thought it would be.

Not that she'd ever tell him that.

…. But yeah, four and a half months after 'finding' one another again and Santana and Finn were boyfriend and girlfriend... by her own admission.

(())

The first half of the summer after their graduation flew by. Santana dove into her work as a case-manager and Finn worked on... well, mainly he hung around her apartment when he wasn't working out and training.

And, surprise suprise, Santana actually liked having him around.

She didn't realize how much she liked having him around until he was gone.

It was during their seventh month of dating - funny how she counted the passage of time like that - when Finn was invited to attend walk-on try outs for two professional football teams. And two weeks ago he had headed out for Minnesota and Florida to see if he could play with the big boys.

She, of course, wanted him to do well; she wanted him to succeed at anything he really desired to do.

But she was also a little scared by his leaving.

And because she was scared of what his leaving might mean, Santana was nothing but a cold-hearted, flinty-stoned bitch towards Finn for the full week before he left for Minnesota. Shestayed out late with friends, drank more than she had in a year, and she snipped at Finn whenever he did anything... or didn't do anything. Yeah, she was an utter and complete bitch. With a capital B.

She was a bitch until the day before his flight out of state, and on that day, she rocked his fucking world in bed. Finn had been confused - pleasantly confused - to wake up on Sunday morning with Santana's head beneath the sheets as she sucked him off. He was so far gone with pleasure that he couldn't even ask her why she'd gone from cold to hot overnight.

After he came, and after he'd recovered from the rush of hormones and bliss, he reached for Santana and pulled her closer, and she could almost feel him freaking out when she actually let him hold her without her bitching about it.

They spent the rest of the day fucking and napping and eating and fucking and napping.

Only, it wasn't really fucking. It was fucking making love. Finn had fucked her, licked her, sexed her, fingered her, and yeah he'd made love to her before, but this time was different. It was different because the 'making love' had been initiated by Santana.

Santana had responded and participated in making love with Finn in the past - she couldn't say no to him - it was one of her stupid-ass weaknesses - but she'd never, ever initiated the love making.

She wouldn't talk to him about what she was feeling; she couldn't. She wouldn't discuss how much what they had meant to her; she couldn't. She couldn't even admit to him IF she truly felt anything for him other than pleasured by his bedroom skills. She simply couldn't make herself say anything to him. But that day, that whole day, she tried to show him what she was feeling.

And after he left her apartment for the airport, a soft kiss to her lips and one to her forehead followed by an 'I'll call', Santana simply sat on the edge of her bed hoping Finn had heard what she couldn't say... even to herself.

(())

And now here she was, two weeks later, sitting at the airport, waiting for Finn to come back from his try-outs. And she just fucking knew, that one way or another, her whole world was about to change.

Santana didn't do change well. At least, she didn't do change well unless she was the one intiating that change.

Uncontrolled change scared the living bejeezus out of her.

As she uncrossed and recrossed her legs she made a list of all the ways that things could be fucked up now:

Finn could be signed to a team; a team that would take him away from her. Which would honestly suck.
Finn could have missed what she was trying to tell him, all day long two weeks ago. Which could be both good and bad. But something inside told her that it would be more 'bad' than 'good'.
Finn could simply have realized that he didn't need her; that she was an insecure, sometimes selfish, witch. And again with the suckiness.

She blew out a puff of air and decided she fucking hated Finn for making her feel this way.

For making her feel so –

"Lopez!"

Santana's head flew up at the sound of her name and she couldn't stop the smile that spread over her face when she saw Finn heading down the walkway towards her.

She also couldn't stop herself from doing all the things she'd told herself she wouldn't do. She jumped out of her seat with a squeal, and flew into Finn's arms, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist.

It was a good thing he was a big tall strapping young man, because, otherwise, the force of her tackle might have knocked him over.

There was a frantic, excited moment of touching and hugging and kissing before Santana finally lowered her legs to the ground.

As she loosened her frame from Finn's he looked down at her, and lifting his hand to her face, he lifted his thumb to her cheek and wiped away a tear. "Why are you crying?"

She sniffed, "I'm not crying." And then, giving up the bravado she was tenuously holding on to, she buried her head against his chest and admitted, "I'm crying because I fucking missed you, you idiot."

She felt Finn's arms tighten around her and she felt the vibration of his voice through his chest as he responded: "I missed you too, San."

And damn-it if she didn't feel better, just being near him, hearing his voice. And that's when it hit her, full-forced, no warning, straight in the gut. Santana was undeniably, inexplicably in love with Finn Hudson.

She lifted her head and glared up at his stupidly adorable face. "Jesus Christ Finn! You made me fall in love with you, didn't you!"

He smirked that little boy, semi-sweet, semi-mischievous smirk of his and he leaned down to brush his lips against hers. "'Bout time you realized it."