A/N- WARNING! WARNING! CITRUS! CITRUS! (If you do not like dirty, sweaty sex scenes, then I caution you not to read. You've been warned!)
I Do Not Own Glee…Glee Owns Me!
I stood at the back of the room—as far from the stage as possible—and watched as Rachel owned the room. I witnessed her make fans and believers out of all the people who had come to hear her sing and in my mind, those people were the same ones who had spent years doubting her and her magnificent talent. She proved them all wrong tonight, just like I always knew she would.
Every single word that came from her lips made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end; sent every nerve in my body ablaze. Just like she always had; just like she always would.
The minute that she finished her set, I ran outside and down the street to a man who was selling roses out of an old paint bucket. She deserved so much more, but it's all I had to offer her at the moment.
When I returned to the Bowery Ballroom, I scoured the room for her. It was difficult to find her over all of the people who were mostly taller than she was. But I finally found her. And when I did, my heart sunk to the pit of my stomach.
She was sitting at the bar, sharing a toast with Jesse St. James. I should have known. I should have known he would be here, too. I should have known she'd already moved on. Maybe I should just leave? Go back to Ohio and continue being a single parent to my kids?
No. I wouldn't leave yet; not when I had driven ten fucking hours just to talk to her. That was my wife, for crying out loud! Why, after ten years, was I suddenly so afraid to speak to her? Because Douche bag was standing beside her? No fucking way! I was twice the side of that guy.
With pure determination in my heart, I walked toward her and it was as though the entire room was moving in slow motion and quickly enough, everyone seemed to have melted away. There was only her in the room and I had to be near her.
Slowly, the two of them turned on their barstools and stared at me. I could tell they were both shocked to see me here. Rachel glanced awkwardly at Jesse, and surprisingly, he excused himself from the bar without causing a scene. Damn!
She seemed embarrassed and although it was pretty dark inside, I could tell she was turning red. Without so much as a word, she nodded and offered me the chair beside her.
I took it. I had never denied Rachel a thing before and I wasn't about to start now. I would give anything right now to be that close to her.
"Did you enjoy my performance?"
"Maybe. Was that Alicia Keys song about me?"
"So…you and St. James, huh?"
"What do you mean, Finn?"
"You and Jesse? You're…like…dating, right?"
Rachel choked on her champagne and nearly spat it out all over the bar.
"Oh, no no no. Jesse and I are not dating. Jesse is gay, Finn."
"Oh. I see."
A feeling of both shock and relief washed over me simultaneously.
"Rachel, I'm just gonna cut to the chase. When are you coming home? The kids miss you. They need you. They need their mother. I'm trying my best to make sure they're happy and healthy every day, but I can't do it on my own."
"I miss them, too. More than you will ever know. And I promise, I will come home soon. I'm starting Le Mis in February and it's only a month long run, and then I will be home. I know you don't and can't understand why I'm doing this, but I have a secret and I'm simply prepared to let anyone in on that secret quite yet. But I swear, when I am ready, you will be the first person to know, Finn. I promise you."
It was silent for a few, long minutes. I didn't know how to respond to her. I just sat there, absorbing it; pondering it. Then, she broke the silence.
"But…if you can keep the drinks coming all night, I might tell you tonight."
And so they did. I ordered that girl anything and everything she wanted. We drank and laughed and smiled for the first time in what seemed like forever. It made me realize just how damn much I missed her and missed us. It made me understand how precious and rare the two of us are together. No one in this entire world had what Rachel and I had; it was an impossibility. Being with one another was effortless; like breathing. Even after being separated for all of this time, we managed to come together and just be happy…even it was just for a little while.
Rachel was on her way to being pretty drunk. I was feeling good. I never wanted this night to end. If this was all I could have Rachel, so be it. But, please God, don't let it ever end.
I looked at Rachel and caught her staring at me. The look on her face was enough to bring me to my knees. That look! I knew that look like the back of my hand. It was one that I've seen a million times over; one that I'd never ever forget—even if I lived to be a million years old. It was a look that I never thought I'd see again; one that I was not about to reject, even though she put me through hell.
She wanted me…bad. And so she would have me.
Like two young, irresponsible college kids, we rushed out into the freezing New York night, hands and lips all over each other. I've missed these lips; I've missed these hands. And I needed more!
Miraculously, we managed to make it to Rachel's rented apartment. How do you get somewhere when you're not even looking? We survived the march up seven five flights of stairs; our tongues dancing, our hands roaming freely.
Rachel struggled with the lock; cursing at it in frustration. I couldn't help but to laugh. She was the cutest thing ever.
As soon as the door flew open, our clothes flew off. Rachel reached inside my button-down shirt and pulled as hard and quickly as she could. Buttons flew in every which way. She ripped the shirt off of me and when it was gone, she stared at my bare chest with nothing but pure, unadulterated lust in her deep, brown eyes.
Before I knew what was happening, her warm, wet mouth was all over my chest; kissing me all over every inch of my skin. Her nails tore down my bare back, ravaging my skin. It was pure bliss.
Then those hands were at my waist, fumbling with my belt buckle, trying desperately to pry it open. She was successful. She yanked my jeans toward the floor and I struggled with them; trying to kick off my shoes and pants.
She looked so beautiful that I hated to ruin her clothes. Nah! Fuck that!
I had so much adrenaline and lust pumping through every inch of my throbbing body that I ripped the damn dress right in half. Rachel looked completely turned on by my utter need that it fuelled my need for her, as well.
I picked her up into my arms and rushed her into, what I presumed, was her bedroom. It was completely dark, so I couldn't be sure. I tossed her onto the bed gently and crawled on top of her. My tongue was in hers, and then it was everywhere else.
The sound of her calling my name over and over and over in pleasure was enough to drive a sane man mad. It was as though she were singing the most beautiful song in the universe. Feeling the inside of her was like receiving the most precious and sought-after gift in the world; it was the Holy Grail. I could not wait to be one with her again.
Abruptly, the tiniest woman I knew was overpowering me and pushing me down onto the bed; licking her lips like she were perishing of thirst. Then, she was taking me in…all of me. Her hot breath on my cock was earth-shattering. She licked and pumped and sucked until I was ready to explode. But my girl knew me better than that. She stopped; giving me a moment to compose myself.
She smiled devilishly at me and when she knew I was ready for more, she pounced. She straddled my lap, thrusting her hips into my pelvis; teasing me.
"Please what, Finn?"
"I need you right now. I need to feel you; be inside of you."
"Um…nothing. I just…need you, too."
"I'm yours…every part of who I am belongs to you."
She stood up and I was sure that she was about to change her mind at any moment and walk away from me…again. But, she didn't leave. She offered me the sweetest smile. Then she slowly—agonizingly so—removed her black, lace panties; allowing them to float softly to the floor below.
Then, she reached her arms behind her back, unsnapped her matching bra, and let it fall as well. Her breasts were amazing; milky white mounds of perfection. I yearned to caress them.
Rachel returned to the bed, crawling toward me like the Goddess she was. She stood tall on her knees just above me, staring at me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered to her. I prayed that that was the truth. Slowly—beautifully—she lowered herself onto my throbbing cock. I felt every inch of her slide onto me; completing me with every inch she took.
Her face distorted with, both, pain and pleasure and foolishly I wondered if she had been with another man since she left me. I shook the thought from my head as quickly as it had entered. The mere thought made acidic vile rise in my throat and made fire shoot through my veins.
Rachel worked herself up and down…up and down…faster and faster…harder and harder. Her moans growing louder and louder; her folds grew wetter and wetter. Her magnificent body glistened with a sheen of sweat. I held her petite hips in my large hands, working her body; pushing myself into her more and more every second and not being able to get nearly enough of her.
I called out her name, over and over, in reverence.
"Rachel! Fuck! Rachel!"
"Finn, I'm gonna cum. Go faster!"
Swiftly, I spun her body around, throwing her roughly onto the bed and pulled her perfect ass to the very end of the tall bed. I stood at its edge and thrust as hard and fast as I could into her; eliciting the most enticing screams from her mouth.
"Finn! Fuck me!"
And I did. It was the best and most passionate it had ever been.
"I'm coming, I'm coming."
"Me too, Rach. Oh, fuck!"
After releasing into her, I collapsed onto her, exhausted and blissful.
"Finn, that was…."
"Yeah. It really was, Rach."
As always, no words were necessary. We knew what the other was thinking and that was all we ever needed. We crawled to the top of the bed and wrapped ourselves in sheets and one another. We fell asleep holding one another; perfect again, just as we had once been.
I awoke with the morning sun peeking through the curtains. I nearly forgot where I was, but then last night's events came rushing back to me with a vengeance. And I remembered it all; I remembered I was truly happy for the first time in months.
I reached for Rachel, but she wasn't there. I nearly panicked, but then I noticed the bathroom light on underneath the door and I breathed a sigh of relief.
I took a few moments to glance around Rachel's bedroom, which had been draped in utter darkness last night. Now, in the light of day, I was floored. Nearly every open space of wall was covered in pictures of Rachel and me; of all the happy moments we had shared over the last decade. There were ones of in high school with all of our fellow Glee-clubbers; ones from our college years; our first Christmas in New York City. And there were pictures of our beautiful children; a perfect blend of Rachel and I. There were photos of Rachel when she was pregnant and as big as a blimp; ones of us holding our babies.
I didn't know when I had begun to cry, but it was in that moment that I knew that Rachel was absolutely still in love with me. I had hope—for the first time in a very long time—that we could make this work; that we could fix whatever it was that went so horribly wrong.
It was at that moment—with hope and joy in my heart—that I heard her. From inside the bathroom, I could hear Rachel. Was she throwing up? She really did have a lot to drink last night. I couldn't blame her. But there was more. She was crying—no, sobbing.
I crawled out of the warm bed that continued to smell like Rachel—like Japanese Cherry Blossoms—and made my way toward the bathroom door. I knocked gently. No answer.
I knocked louder.
"Rachel, are you alright? Can I get you anything?"
Still no answer.
But seconds later, the door flew open viciously and she came storming out.
"Get out, Finn!"
"What? Rachel, what are you talking about?"
"Really, Finn? Are you that stupid that you no longer understand plain and simple English? Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. My. Apartment. Now!"
"But Rachel, what did I do? Last night was…"
"Last night was a mistake, Finn. Now take your shit and get the fuck out. I'll come for my children, but I will not come back for you."
Tears were steaming down my face. This was not happening to me. Not again. Actually, this time was worse. I barely had time to throw my clothes back on before she was slamming the front door in my face.
I fell to my knees, banging my fist against the wooden door. I begged. I pleaded. I cried. She didn't listen. She left me out in that hallway like I was just some one-night stand; like I was a piece of trash.
I was crushed; murdered emotionally. I was inconsolable. I cried all the way back to my car. And then I cried—for ten hours—all the way back to Ohio.