Fic: All the Stars Play for Me (2/3)
Pairing/Characters: Rachel/Finn, ensemble
Setting/Spoilers: general spoils, but nothing specific--it's a near!future!fic
Warnings: sexual situations, language
Summary: senior year at McKinley.
A/N: Title and lyrics come from "Singing in My Sleep" by Semisonic.
They win Sections.
No one is really surprised, but they're all still pretty psyched. He and Rachel sing a duet, because the rest of the Glee club finally acknowledges that Finn and Rachel pretty much always rock duets, and Kurt sings a solo with Mercedes, and Mike, Puck, and Sam all do this song with killer dance moves. Finn knows the moment the performance is over that this is the best one they've ever given.
Plus, this is the first Glee competition that takes place when his love life isn't a total train wreck, and on stage in front of everyone, as Mr. Schue accepts the trophy, Finn picks Rachel up and spins her around on stage, and she laughs and kisses him.
The whole club goes out to dinner, and then they go to this local park. They swing in the dark and sing random songs to each other. Puck picks up Slushees, and Finn feels like he hasn't had this much fun in forever. He smiles at Rachel as she and Kurt try to see who can swing higher, and she beams at him.
It's past midnight when they all finally split up and start to head home. Barely five minutes into the drive, Rachel tells Finn to go the lake a few miles from her neighbourhood, and he grins at her and agrees. She doesn't have a curfew, after all, and he thinks he can miss his this once. His mom knows he has to celebrate, right?
He has her shirt unbuttoned and she long ago pulled off his when she breaks away from him, and she stares at him for a moment, her eyes bright, before she tells him to sit back, because she wants to do something for him. He realises only moments later what she means when she starts to undo his belt buckle, and he tells her he loves her.
Moments later, however, even as she wraps her hand around him, she sinks down to the floor of the cab, and his eyes go wide, a shudder running through his entire body when her warm breath washes over his erection. She's never done this before. He puts a hand on her shoulder, and he tells her she doesn't have to. "I want to," she says softly.
He stares at her, with her shirt unbuttoned, her hair messy, and her lips swollen from his kisses, and she rests her small, warm hands on his belly. "I honestly do." She leans up and kisses him for another moment, as if to reassure him of her words, and then she pulls back and smiles. "Unless you don't want me to?" she asks.
"No, I do!" he says, eyes wide, and she laughs.
"I don't really know what to do, though," she warns. He nods. As far as he can tell, though, she totally does know what to do, the way she tentatively touches the tip with her tongue and looks up at him with these large doe eyes, and the way she licks him, and takes him into her mouth, and hollows her cheeks, and — and he loses coherent thought when he hits the back of her throat.
She tries to tell him something, giggles a little when he groans, because how does she do that and — and oh, God — and — and as much as he wants to watch her, he simply can't. He grips her hair and squeezes his eyes shut and leans back against the headrest as her tongue swirls around him and she slides him in and out of her mouth.
He doesn't last very long, but he doesn't think he's ever come so hard in his life.
She smiles proudly at him afterward. "You're perfect," he murmurs. Her smile becomes a grin.
He pulls her up to sit in his lap, and he offers to return the favour.
She shakes her head shyly. "I'm not ready for you to — to touch me that way, not yet," she says. "You'll be the first to know when I am." She kisses him sweetly, and he runs his hand over her hair. "But you can buy me some ice cream if you want." She starts to grin, and he laughs as he wraps his arms around her and hugs her. "I love you," she whispers.
"You have no idea," he replies, and he hugs her a little tighter, because he can.
They do drive to the 24-hour CVS, and he does buy her some chocolate chip cookie dough. Sitting in the CVS parking lot, they talk about Regionals, and he listens to all her song suggestions and newest ideas, and then for a little while he lies in the bed of the truck and she lies on top of him, and they stare up at the stars they can't even see through the clouds.
He finally drops her off at her house a few minutes before three in the morning. His mom is still awake when he arrives home, and he isn't surprised when she grounds him for two weeks.
It's totally worth it.
They have to start in on applications.
His mom buys him this book on colleges, but he still doesn't really know what he even wants in a school. He goes on a couple of tours. Rachel offers to read through the book with him and help him make a list of possible school. He agrees, but the list they put together has, like, forty schools. "We'll find the right one for you," Rachel assures, smiling.
She already has five schools picked out, and she has for a long time, he thinks: Rochester, NYU, Juilliard, and, as safety schools, the University of Michigan and Ohio State. Finn wonders if he should apply to some of those schools, too, and he knows he'll apply to OSU, but he can't apply to Michigan, because, well, come on. Rachel doesn't seem to think where he applies should have anything to do with where she applies, though, so he doesn't say anything.
She misses two days of school to fly up to New York with her dad for an audition at Juilliard.
She tells him as soon as she returns that her heart will break if she isn't accepted there.
He assures her that she will be, because what school would turn her down? And he thinks everything starts to look up for him, too, as Mr. Schue agrees to write Finn a recommendation to submit to the common application, and Rachel actually helps Finn set up a common application, and finally he narrows his choices down to ten schools. He has some reach schools and some safety schools, like Ms. Pillsbury says everybody should have.
NYU is his big reach school, and he applies to a couple of other schools in New York City. He sees Rachel smile when he reads his final list of schools aloud to her, and that smile suddenly makes him absolutely positive: he has to go to New York with her. He has to.
And there's a good chance he'll get into at least one school in New York City, right?
He recruits the guys in Glee to help him.
Artie comes up with the actual plan. Sam volunteers to take the punch, and Finn is kinda surprised. "You know you can't fight back, right, dude?" Puck asks, and Finn thinks for a minute that maybe this explains why Sam wants to do this, because Sam never really forgave Finn for everything that happened last year with Quinn.
But Sam nods. "I know," he says. "I'm doing this to help Rachel."
Finn can understand that. They wait until the lunch period, and Sam goes over to Rachel, waiting at her locker for Finn. Artie radios to Puck on his walkie-talkie when the moment comes, and Puck nods at Finn, who steps out of the classroom and starts down the hall. He sees Sam, one arm on either side of Rachel, trapping her against the lockers.
Finn narrows his eyes, and tries to look really angry, and then Sam, like, totally makes everything easier, because the kid leans down to kiss Rachel, who presses a hand against his chest to push him back, and moments later Finn tears Sam away from her. "Get the fuck away from her!" he yells. He swings at Sam, who takes the punch like a fucking champ, as Rachel screams, people stare and shout, and Sam barely scrambles to his feet before Mr. Schue pulls Finn back.
"Don't touch my girlfriend," Finn growls, and Sam, with a split lip, looking pissed but wary, holds his hands up in surrender, and a completely baffled Mr. Schue marches them both to see Principle Figgins. Rachel trails behind, demanding an explanation, but Tina, who Mike accidentally let in on the plan, pulls her away from the crowd.
"Damn, blondie got off easy," Puck says loudly, and Finn catches his words even as they turn the corner. "Boy went ape-shit on me last year, 'cause I fucking looked at her the wrong way and said she looked hot in some skirt."
Sam and Finn explain everything to Principle Figgins and Mr. Schue, both who kind of sit there in disbelief for a minute before Figgins finally gives them lunch detention for the rest of the week and tells them to try non-violent answers to their problems. As soon as they leave the office, they run into Rachel, her arms crossed over her chest.
"Really?" she says, glaring at Finn. "That was your plan? A staged fight?" Her eyes flicker from Finn to Sam. "And how did he rope you into this? And Puck, Mike, and Artie, too, from what Tina told me?"
"We wanted to help you, Rachel," Sam says. "That guy is a perv, and you deserve better." Rachel softens slightly, and Sam smiles sheepishly as he goes on. "I'm sorry I tried to kiss you," he says. "I thought that might sell it more." Rachel shakes her head at him, but she smiles, too, and then Sam holds out his fist to Finn. Hesitantly, Finn bumps fists with him, and he wonders if this finally makes them friends again. Sam disappears down the hall.
Rachel looks at Finn, and he can already see that she isn't pissed anymore. "This probably won't even work, you know," she says. "He's rather persistent. Believe me, I've tried to make him stop before. Nothing deters him." She turns a little sad, then.
Finn wraps an arm around her shoulders. "This will, baby," he says.
They go to lunch, and everybody stares, but Rachel acts like she doesn't notice, so Finn tries to act like he doesn't either. They sit with Kurt and Mercedes, who want all the details, and Finn explains everything quietly, because he doesn't want someone to overhear and for the whole plan to go down the drain.
Kurt looks offended. "How come nobody told me? I could have helped."
"You would have told Rachel," Finn argues.
"I would not have!" He pauses. Mercedes raises her eyebrows at him. "Okay. Fine. Maybe I would have." Rachel laughs at him, leans into Finn, and he tells himself that this stunt has to have worked, because this kid shouldn't get away with harassing Rachel.
Later that afternoon, as Rachel pulls her books from her locker, Finn catches sight of Jacob Ben Israel, skulking a few feet away. He thinks of the way Jacob always seems to be a step or two away from Rachel, and he thinks about the e-mails he sends her and all the myspace comments he leaves her, and he thinks about the envelope of pictures of Rachel that the perv left in her locker the other day.
Finn glares at Jacob, and he does what Puck told him — he points two fingers at his eyes, and then he points at Jacob, and he tries to look as mean as he can. He doesn't even have to try that hard to look pissed, because this kid made Rachel cry. Jacob stumbles backwards and runs off, 'cause Finn is totally a badass, and then Rachel smiles up at Finn, oblivious to what just happened.
The e-mails stop, and the myspace comments do, too, and Rachel says she never sees Jacob around anymore, not even to ask her for interviews. Two weeks later Rachel bakes cookies for all the boys in Glee, and she makes an extra batch for Sam alone, but, hey, the guy did take a punch for her.
Finn really wants to enjoy winter break.
But he can't.
He still has to write his application essay. It's pretty much all he has left to do for his applications, but every time he starts he gives up before he writes more than a few sentences. He can't write, okay? He just can't. He sucks at it.
It really shouldn't be so hard. He manages to write the two dozen, like, supplement essays, or whatever, that the schools require, because they're short and pretty easy, and his mom edits them for grammar, and she says they're really good. He knows moms have to say stuff like that, but he thinks she sounds pretty honest.
But he still can't write his actual essay.
He loves Christmas, and he loves Rachel, and he finally gets to have them both at the same time, but if he doesn't write this stupid essay, then he can't actually enjoy either. He asks Rachel what he should write about. She says he should write from the heart, but he should also try to demonstrate what kind of person he is, and then when she sees the look on his face she makes all these suggestions. He tries them all, but he can't manage to write anything good.
Finally, two days before Christmas, Rachel comes over to his house, and she sits him down at his desk. “Okay," she says, "we're going to have you do a tried and true topic: someone who's profoundly influenced your life. I need you to pick someone. Anyone. Off the top of your head. Go."
"Um, can I do you?"
"That's sweet," she says, smiling slightly, "but I don't think I would be the best choice. Who else?"
He tries to think. "Mr. Schue, maybe? Or my mom, I guess. Or my dad. I've always tried to be somebody my dad would be proud of. But he doesn't really count, so . . . um, I don't know." He sighs. "Maybe we should choose another topic."
"No," Rachel says. "I like that one. Your dad."
"Yeah?" he says.
She nods. And she pulls out a tape recorder. "Okay," she says. "Tell me about how your dad has influenced your life." She smiles, and he sees her click a button on the recorder.
"Are you recording this?" he asks, confused.
"Ignore the recorder," she says, "and focuses on me." He forces himself to look at her, shifting slightly in his seat. "Tell me about how your dad has influenced your life," she repeats. "Just . . . talk to me. Tell me how he's influenced your life." She holds his gaze.
"He . . . I never actually knew my dad, 'cause, you know, he died when I was a baby." He pauses, and she nods, smiling. They've talked about his dad before, and this is kinda weird, but she motions for him to go on. "But I grew up with stories about him, and my mom always said that he was watching over me. And that was comforting, but it also, I mean, um, I wanted to make him proud, too. Like, I wanted to be somebody that my dad would be proud of."
"What do you think would make your dad proud?" Rachel asks.
"Um, you know, like, somebody who — a leader. You and Mr. Schue both really got to me, you know, when you wanted me to join Glee, because you made me think of him. And I wanted to make my mom proud, too, because I wanted to show her that she raised a guy like the man she loved. I guess. That she hadn't sacrificed so much for nothing. And I think I am a leader, too."
"You are," Rachel says, smiling.
"It took a long time to get there, though." He glances at the recorder, but she catches his gaze again and motions yet again for him to go on. He does. He talks about everything his mom told him about his dad, and he talks about when Puck's dad left, and he talks about Mr. Schue and about Burt and about how he learned to be a man. "Is that good?" he finishes.
Rachel clicks a button on the recorder. "Perfect," she says. "Now, we're going to write out what we recorded, cut out the ums and likes, and let you polish the structure a little, and then you'll have your essay." She beams at him, and he isn't sure how she came up with this idea, but she always has good ideas like this.
They spend the entire afternoon on the essay, and she refuses to fix anything for him, because this is his essay, and he has to let his own voice shine through. That kind of sucks, but by the end of the day he has this totally awesome essay that makes his mom cry.
He uploads the text to the common app, and he, like, officially applies to college.
Mike comes up with the idea for an epic snow fight.
He lives, like, out in the woods, and they can totally run around all over the place, pounding each other with snow balls that Rachel can make really, really fast, which totally gives their team an edge. They build these giant snow forts, and the fight turns into capture the flag in the snow, and Finn has never seen anybody run as fast as Kurt does when he leaps over the snow, the red towel in his hand streaming behind him. Kurt, Rachel, and Tina do this dance from some cheerleading movie to celebrate their win, as Mike and Finn just grin, 'cause, yeah, their team is awesome.
Mrs. Chang makes them all hot chocolate and pound cake. She's a totally awesome baker.
Rachel suggests karaoke, then, and she sings All I Want For Christmas is You to Finn, which makes him think of last year, and how messed up they were then, and he pulls her into his lap and kisses her lots to make up for that. Kurt and Sam sing Grandma Got Run Over by A Reindeer, and Puck sings some Adam Sandler song about Hanukkah, and from her perch in Finn's lap, Rachel joins in, giggling madly, before Finn totally sings the shit out of Jingle Bell Rock with Artie.
This is how Christmas break is supposed to go.
His physics homework lies abandoned on her desk.
She usually doesn't let him distract her from work, his or hers, but today she easily gives in to his kisses, even allows his wandering hands without real protest, and she sits astride him now, her hands tugging on his hair as she kisses him.
He has one hand up her skirt and the other down her shirt when she draws back from him, nipping one last time on his bottom lip, and gazes down at him, her eyes dark, her cheeks flushed. "Finn," she says, and her hand trembles a little as she runs her thumb across his cheek. "I'm ready for you to — to — to touch me." She bites her lip with the softest trace of a shy smile.
For a moment he only lies there, stunned.
Bu he gets a grip on himself. "Yeah?" he murmurs. She nods, and her smile widens. He slides his hand up across her collarbone to cup the back of her head, and he brings her down for another kiss. "Lie back," he breathes, and she nods a little. He closes his eyes for a moment as she carefully pulls back from him, and he tells himself to be cool, and then he turns and looks at her, lying on her back on her beloved piano rug, her hair a halo around her head.
He smiles at her, and she smiles a little, too, giving this kind of breathless laugh, and his hands skate over her legs and up the smooth expanse of her thighs. She touches his shoulders, her fingers curling ever so slightly in the material of his shirt, even as he curls his fingers around the waistband of her underwear and tugs the material down. He couches himself to stay calm again as he pulls them all the way off and tosses them aside, and then he finally touches her.
It's wet down there. And it's really warm. And she lets out this sharp breath.
He swallows thickly. "What do I — what do I do? C-can you show me?" The words come out in a rush. He licks his lips a little and holds her gaze.
"Show you?" she repeats. "I don't . . . I don't really — k-know." She shakes her head a little, eyes wide. "I don't know."
He stares for a minute, and then he realises what she's trying to say. "You've never touched yourself?" he says. "Like, at all?" He can't hide his disbelief. How has she survived this long?
She pinks, biting her lip. "No. I — I've thought about it. And once, in the shower, I almost started to, but it didn't seem to work, and then I did some research and — and I just . . . I don't — you know, maybe this wasn't a good idea —!" She looks panicked now, as she starts to sit up, and he kisses her quickly, trying to calm her down. She finally sinks into the kiss, and he decides he has to do this right.
If this her first attempt at an orgasm, he is not gonna screw this up and scar her for life.
A few minutes later, he tugs her shirt up and over her head, returning to the kiss again as his hands fumble with her the clutch of her bra, tugging pathetically until she helps him, and then he has her topless, and he kisses his way down her neck and to her boobs, and she arches into him. A few minutes later, she starts to squirm underneath him. This is as far as they usually go. They kiss each other into a frenzy, and then she helps him get off, and then they stop, because she isn't ready for more.
Today, she wants more, and today will officially be all about her. He can do this. He will do this.
He unzips her skirt and starts to tug the soft material down. Her eyes open and she follows the movement, her breathing shallow, and then she is naked, Rachel Berry, naked, and gazing at him and waiting for him. He kisses her again, because she always relaxes when he kisses her, and he slides his hand once more up to the apex of her thighs.
He has to look. He has to pay attention. Her fingers dig into his hair, and he feels the muscles of her legs tense slightly around him. "Relax, baby," he breathes, and she shudders a little, but she listens. He traces his finger along her opening, and this is kind of ridiculously awesome and hot all at once. He slips a finger into her and immediately goes totally, painfully hard, because, fuck, this feels amazing. He glances up to watch her and sees her gaze boring into him.
He smiles, and slowly she smiles, too.
He lets his other hand travel back up to cup one of her breasts, and he curls his finger into her, even as he sweeps his thumb across that little nub. He vaguely recalls when he was thirteen and his mom tried to explain sex to him while he tried to tear off his ears, and she mentioned the little bundle of nerves. This is part of what gets girls off, right? And he knows the wetness and the heat is the lady boner, right?
He's totally doing this right.
He leans up, the angle of his hand changing slightly, to kiss her quickly, and he can see the pink flush crawl down her neck, sweeping over her boobs and down her stomach, and he captures her gaze again. He starts to pump his finger a little, continually brushing his thumb over her clit, 'cause, yeah, he totally remembers now what it's called.
She makes all these breathy, moan-y noises, and he keeps one hand up with her boobs, keeping them company, and she arches a little off the ground when he presses on her clit, so he does that again. She licks her lips, gasping into the air, her hands tugging so tightly on his hair it hurts in the best, most awesome way ever.
And then she comes.
She totally comes. She arches so far off the ground, and her head tips back and she lets out this strangled yell that he thinks is his name, and he pulls his hand from her as she falls back onto the rug and lies there, breathing slowly, her glossy eyes trained once more on him. He comes with her, in his pants, 'cause he just can't not. He wipes his hand on his t-shirt and she reaches out and grabs his hand, linking his fingers with hers.
She stares at him, breathing slowly, and she starts to smile. "I read," she whispers, "that if a girl has a deep emotional connection with someone, that helps her . . ."
"Get off?" he suggests.
She blushes, but she nods, and she still keeps a hold of his gaze. "Like we have," she says.
And he loves her so much. God, he really does. Like, he knows that all the time, but sometimes he gets this random kind of tug in his gut, this wave of feelings in his stomach that's all twisty and warm, and it's not like arousal, it's just, well, it's love, and nobody has ever made him feel like this. "Yeah," he says, "like we have."
"I love you," she tells him.
"I love you, too." He kisses her, and she smiles sweetly when he draws back. And he kinda can't help starting to grin, 'cause, damn, he totally gave Rachel Berry her first orgasm, and maybe it wasn't, like, the greatest orgasm ever, but he'll figure that out, he will, and he'll learn, like, techniques and stuff. He thinks maybe he should tell her that, but her eyes go wide. "What?"
"Finn," she says, "Henrietta saw."
She points, and he turns to see her purple stuffed hippo staring at them. The animal must have fallen off the bed at some point. He looks back at Rachel. "She's jealous, is all," he tells her. And he smiles and she smiles and suddenly she starts to laugh, and he laughs, too, and she buries her face into his neck as he wraps his arms around her.
They stay that way for a while. Her dads will be home soon, and they still need to finish their homework, and she is buck-naked and he is totally clothed, and, yeah, he needs to change. But they stay that way for a while.
Everything starts to crumble in April.
They win the conference championship football game again, and they win Regionals again, and Finn feels more confident in his relationship with Rachel than ever before. And then the letters start to come in. Artie receives an acceptance letter from MIT, and everybody congratulates him, but tension slowly rises up in the room, too, as they all thinks about what acceptance or rejection letters they're going to get.
Juilliard accepts Rachel. She starts to cry as she clutches the letter to her chest, and he hugs her and kisses her and crosses his fingers that some school in New York City, any school, accepts him, because he knows Rachel will go to Juilliard, despite the four other acceptance letters she receives.
Kurt is accepted to Northwestern, and he dances around the entire house in celebration, and then he and Sam both receive acceptance letters from NYU, and Kurt really celebrates. Finn knows that even if Kurt takes a few weeks to pick between the two schools, Kurt will end up at NYU, and Sam sends his letter of intention to NYU the next day. They offered him almost a full-ride, after all.
But NYU rejects Finn. OSU accepts him, and a handful of other schools do, too.
None of them are in New York.
His mom is really proud of him, but all he can think is that this changes everything.
"We can do long distance," Rachel tells him, smiling, but her smile doesn't reach her eyes.
part 1. part 3.