A/N: So there was a hurricane passing by the island, and my power was out for a good while. So I entertained myself but updating my current stories and tryna have some fun. This, was the result. Hope you enjoyed a lil bit of rain smut! (Clearly this was months old! But the hurricane was the inspiration for the story, so I'm leaving as is.)(also, it prolly still needs to be edited some - pardon!)
One-shot: AU Finchel and a lil bit of Santana.
Glee isn't mine.
steal some covers, share some skin
She wakes up on Wednesday to the worst storm she's ever seen since moving to New York. Hard winds, heavy rains, the sky is a nasty black that keeps dropping buckets of water on Brooklyn. Leaving her apartment would be a very bad idea.
Her phone rings just as she's about to get back under the covers and it's both her fathers on the line worrying about her in the storm.
She's been in NY almost three years now and she doesn't live alone but still, her fathers worry, so she gives them that, putting up with the fuss of it all. When her daddy offers to have her dad come get her though, she hangs up before she can scream at them.
She really loves her fathers, but she's a grown woman who doesn't need to be babied anymore. Sometimes they can be a bit too much.
Giving up on sleep, she kicks the covers off, intent to find something to keep her mind off the storm outside.
"Santana, it's raining," she grumbles, slinking into her roommate's room then pauses, lifting an eyebrow at Santana, who was currently tossing clothes into an overnight bag.
"No shit Sherlock," Santana chuckles, pressing clothes deeper into her bag. "That storm will be here until the end of the week." She waggles her eyebrows at Rachel and ducks into the bathroom.
"Exactly! So where are you going?"
"There's a storm outside," Rachel points out needlessly. She walks over to Santana's window and pulls the curtains aside, rain streaking down the glass.
"Uh huh." Santana stops by her bed again, winks over at her and then points up. Rachel glances up to the ceiling and then back at Santana, confused.
"Jess! Something to do on a rainy day. Or better yet, someone." Santana grins again and then ducks under her bed to pull out shoes.
(Jess just so happened to be this dark-skinned bombshell who had moved into their building a few weeks aback. Dark eyes, dark hair and a wicked smile. And who had managed to catch Santana's eye. On more than one occasion. And twice last Sunday.)
"Really San? You're leaving me here alone?"
Santana chuckles lightly and zips her bag closed. "You wanna join? Jess always wanted to have a threesome and you know I've-,"
Rachel glares at her best friend, cutting her eyes when the pretty Latina laughs out loud.
"You're so easy to get riled up, Berry. Relax a little. You have the day off from the theatre. Cook. Bake. Knit. Clean. For fuck's sake, get laid. You need to chill out."
Rachel bites back a retort as she follows Santana to the front door, lugging her overnight bag.
"Why are you even bothering to bring clothes? Knowing you, you'll spend the whole weekend, in bed with Jess, you won't even need to be clothed," she huffs, crossing her arms.
Santana turns around, a salacious grin splitting her face. She rummages in the bag for a toothbrush and then tosses the bag onto the couch, saluting before slipping through the front door, cackling as she hurries towards the elevator.
She flips Santana off and slams the door, leaning against it in a huff. Surveying the room, her eyes land on her box of DVDs and she walks over, randomly pulling out a Barbra Streisand movie to entertain herself.
She's beyond bored, flitting through the channels, having given up after watching three Barbra Streisand movies. It's still raining hard outside, rain pelting her windows. She's glad she has power too. She may be all grown and everything, but a really bad storm and no power equals disaster.
She's not scared of the storm, but honestly, she's alone. Aside from curling up in her bed with her phone, tablet and kindle she's bored, literally going out of her mind bored.
She's done her hair in cornrows.
She's painted her nails, three times already.
She's managed to rearrange her closet and shoes, packing a couple outfits in a bag to bring to Goodwill.
She's gone over lines for her still-running play and she's emailed her agent (twice) about getting her more roles.
She loves the workshop she's currently working with, but she's anxious to get to Broadway. She knows she'll have a way to go, but one could do so many Off-Off-Broadway and Off-Broadway shows before they went crazy.
After cleaning their fridge and ransacking the cupboards for cookies – there are none because Santana has the worst sweet tooth ever and she constantly has to remind her to bring more home.
(Santana always forgets.)
She finally decides to bake, scrounging up the ingredients for cookies. There's a bag of chocolate chips no doubt left over from when Mike had come over on one of those many nights when he was suffering from sympathy pains when Tina was pregnant. And Santana has a weakness for Nutella (she'll never understand why) so she puts that on the counter as well and searches for a recipe she can experiment with.
She finds one, and sets about to dabble in another of her favourite pastimes. It's only 7pm, it's still early, but dark outside thanks to the downpour raging outside. She opens a bottle of white wine as she bakes - she's not much of a drinker, but tonight's a night when all bets are off, damnit.
She puts on an album from this new artist she heard about at the workshop – Mercedes Jones is… there isn't a word short of superb, fantastic, amazing to describe her – as she dances about the kitchen, drinking and covered in flour and peanut butter. When she finally pops the tray in the oven, the dinging of their doorbell goes off and she shimmies to the door, pulling it open and freezing in her tracks as she sees Finn standing there. She blinks, her eyes following the length of his torso, up over his chest and broad shoulders to meet his eyes. Happy and bright as they smile back at her.
She bites her lip, not trusting herself to speak and waves a hand instead. He waves back, the tip of his ears burning red as he looks at her. He clears his throat, looking at the spot above her head, his voice hoarse when he speaks.
She shakes her head slowly.
Finn sighs and wipes rainwater from his eyes, brushing his hair off his forehead. She just now realizes he's dripping wet, his shirt sucking onto him like a second skin, his pants soaked through.
"She'll be coming back soon?"
Oh she'll be coming alright. She laughs lightly at herself then shakes her head and gestures him inside. He steps past her, his wet arm brushing against her bare arm and she clutches onto the door as a wave of lust passes through her.
Finn was Santana's best friend. He was off-limits.
She repeats this to herself as she closes the door, leaning against it when she turns around to Finn.
"Sorry, no. She'll be out for a while. Why are you soaking wet?"
He smiles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck as he shuffles from one foot to the other.
"I mixed up my work schedule, I'm actually off today. And if I stay at the firehouse they'll make me work, or cook, or something else so I had to get out. But I didn't drive in on Monday. San's close by so I figured I could crash here until the rain eases up a bit."
He looks nervous, his hands slapping against his thigh as he tries to look everywhere else but at her.
"Um, I can get you a towel, and uh, run those down to the dryer for you?"
"No, that's fine. If I could get something to wear while I wait, I could go down and dry them. I ah- um, left some sweatpants here when I was helping Santana move in. I could go look?"
She gestures towards Santana's room, biting her lip at the easy smile Finn tosses her as he lumbers towards the room.
Dropping her head against the wall beside her she chastises herself for her behaviour, like some lovesick teenager who didn't know how to talk to a cute boy.
Except, Finn was far from cute. Adonis would be a more accurate description.
Tall, broad-shouldered, a smattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks, long lashes that dusted his cheek and the most beautiful amber eyes she's ever seen on a man. Finn was a walking orgasm, and he really had no idea.
Opening her eyes, she glances at the hallway mirror she nearly shrieks as she realizes what she was wearing: a thin camisole and no bra, with barely there pink shorts.
No wonder Finn couldn't look at her without blushing.
Crossing her hands over her chest, she dashes off to her bedroom, grabbing her a t-shirt and yoga shorts from her closet. She rakes her fingers through her hair, getting the mass of curls as under control as she possibly can, holding them back with an elastic. One breath check and a teeth check, she slips back into the living room right as Finn saunters out from Santana's room, his sweatpants riding low on his hips.
He grins when he sees her, an almost disappointed look flashing across his face, before holding up his wet uniform. He's shirtless and barefoot and she wonders if the pants were all he found.
"Found it. Though I wasn't sure if I should go near Santana's hamper. She has really tiny pieces of string she masquerades as underwear I don't want to be touching."
She laughs huskily and tears her eyes away from Finn's firm chest before ducking her head in the supply closet and grabs a laundry basket and detergent. Standing up, she hands them to him, returning his smile.
"Thanks. I'll be back in a bit."
"Sure. I can make you a sandwich or something to eat if you'd like? I have cookies in the oven too."
He smiles back, the dimple in his cheek deepening as he nods. "I'd like that, thanks."
She nods again, her eyes following him as she walks to the kitchen. He turns to look at her before opening the door and stepping through. She drops her head on the kitchen counter, trying to remind herself that Finn was Santana's best friend.
And he was off limits.
Holy mother of – Finn Hudson defined sexy.
He and Santana had been friends from back in the day, growing up in the same town in Ohio. They moved to the city together after high school with different dreams and lived together for two years while Finn did his training for the FDNY and Santana worked odd jobs before finally going back to college.
And then Finn met The Blonde From Hell (Santana gave her the nickname) and they moved in together and Santana moved here. She'd answered the ad for a roommate when Santana's last roommate moved out and met Finn when he came around to install a new TV in Santana's room about a week after she'd moved in.
Pity he was taken.
By The Bitch From Hell. (She coined the new nickname.)
Sighing, she yanks open the fridge door, dragging out ingredients for chicken parmesan.
Her daddy always had food in the oven for her dad when he came home from work. He worked from home seven days a week and they would have dinner together most evenings.
Why offer Finn a sandwich when she could very well feed him? Heartily at that?
There was another knock on the front door and she wipes her hand on a dishrag before going to open it to let Finn in. He follows behind her as she walks back to the kitchen.
"You don't have to cook."
"I know, I don't mind. Besides, this rain isn't going to let up anytime soon. Least I can do is feed you."
She glances at him and looks away quickly from him, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest.
"Alright, Ms. Berry. If you insist."
She laughs lightly, "I do."
"OK. What's on the menu?"
"Chicken? I thought you didn't eat meat?"
She lifts her eyes to him, tilting her head to the side, "I don't. How'd you know that?"
"Why wouldn't I know that? You're my friend, these are the kind of things I notice Rach."
She dips her chin, her hair falling down to hide her blush. Finn was one of those guys who was naturally charming, the kind of guy who made it really easy to talk to him. Even if he stuttered and blushed through most of the conversation.
She found it hard to believe he was still single. (Santana threw a party the day he broke up with The Bitch From Hell. Apparently, she was trying to make it as an actress and was a bit too friendly with directors in trying to secure a part.
Santana got Finn drunk and swore that the next girl to break his heart would leave in a body bag.
Which was another reason she had for staying away from Finn. Santana was notorious for her loyalty.
"Oh? I didn't know you took that much interest in me?"
Finn chuckles and she looks up at him.
"Well, for one – you never order meat on pizza, and I know Santana is on first name basis with almost every pizza joint nearby. Two - you have all that vegetarian stuff in the fridge, carefully labelled and set aside from San's steaks and hot dogs. And c'mon Rach – really? I've known you for what, over a year? I know enough about you."
Hmm. It's good to know she wasn't the only one interested.
She covers the chicken with the pasta sauce and ducks down to the oven, pulling it open. She takes out the tray of cookies and pushes in the chicken.
The heat from the oven does nothing to soothe the blush on her cheeks and she carefully chastises herself for letting this man disarm her.
That smile was a dangerous thing.
She straightens up and wiping her hand, turns to Finn. He reaches for a cookie, popping it in his mouth before turning back to her.
"Hmmmm. This, is delicious, Rach." She watches him pop another hot cookie in his mouth, licking crumbs and melted chocolate from his fingertips.
She spins around and abruptly plunges her hands in the cold water, praying that the sudden cold would soothe the heat spreading through her body, settling her belly. She feels her nipples harden against her t-shirt and Finn wasn't helping the situation as she could still hear the appreciative moans he kept giving while he kept licking his fingers.
Maybe the rain outside was messing with her libido – she was five seconds away from jumping Finn.
"Thanks." She manages to choke out. "It's a recipe I found online earlier. Figured I'd use some of San's Nutella and get creative."
"Creative, huh? Nice."
"Yea, well. When you're bored, in a thunderstorm, you find ways to entertain yourself. Making something sweet just happens to be another one of my specialities."
She turns around, hands crossed against her chest. The cold water did nothing for her. Watching Finn licking his lips and those long fingers was sending her mind in places Santana would be proud of. Or smack her for, she's not sure.
"Well, I do have quite the sweet tooth."
So I realize," she gestures to the cookies. He's gone through five already, fingers snatching another. She watches his hands, long, thick fingers dip inside his mouth and squeezes her legs as she wonders what else that tongue, and those fingers, are good at.
Somewhere between teasing him about his fingers and getting dinner out of the oven that's forgotten as soon as she sets it on the counter, their conversation detours. She opens a bottle of red Santana has in the cupboard – she realizes she's doing a lot of things she normally does, drinking wine in the middle of a thunderstorm with a very handsome man is something she's never done before.
Shy Finn seems to be replaced by this suave, quick-witted man with broad shoulders and a wicked smile with eyes that promise a multitude of pleasures she really, really want to find out for herself.
He's moved from the edge of the counter, standing almost beside her, the heat from his shoulder warming her arm.
"Well, what else do you like to do, Ms. Berry? Aside from acting, singing and being an awesome cookie maker?" Finn tips his wine to his lips, staring at her from over the tip of his glass. His eyes are a dark amber, almost dark brown the longer she stares at him.
She gulps and drags her eyes away from his, and squeezes her legs.
"Well, I do like to experiment. Try new recipes, adventures... I'll try anything once, twice to be sure and three times if I like it."
Yep. She's flirting.
And by the look in his eyes, and that smile on his lips, she thinks it's working.
He's flirting with her too.
"Nice," he winks.
She looks up at him from under her lashes and smiles wickedly. "Yeah, I never back down from a challenge. Or a dare."
Finn sets his glass on the counter behind him, then reaches out to pluck hers from her fingers, setting it besides his and shifts closer to her. She lets out a breath, goosebumps prickling over her skin as he turns his body to face her.
"Funny, me either."
He has her backed against the counter, hands on either side of her as he stares down at her.
"Huh. I'll remember that next time," she breathes out.
Finn drags his gaze from her lips to her eyes, a smile tugging at his lips. "Next time?"
He's too close, his body heat warming her and she's about ready to grab his head and kiss that smirk away.
"You're expecting this to happen again?"
No, that's not exactly what she meant but – fuck it.
"Stop talking and kiss me."
He does, slowly at first, his lips barely moving against hers. His fingertips her chin up, his thumb rubbing against her jaw. He pulls away an inch and her eyes slip open to meet his, dark and intense as he watches her.
"I've wanted you to do that for a very long time," she breathes.
"I want to do it again," he whispers against her lips.
She kisses him this time, hard, winding her arms around his neck, pressing her body against his naked chest, pushing herself up on her toes. Finn moans, the sound reverberating in his chest as he drops his hands to her waist, lifting her onto the kitchen counter, pushing the cookies aside.
Her legs snake around him, pulling him closer to her, she can feel the hardness right against her centre.
He trades her hard kisses for simple nips, licking along her bottom lip, to the side of her mouth and down her neck. Her body flushes with heat as his fingers creep under the side of her t-shirt, pulling the sides up and off. He kisses down to her shoulder and steps away, dragging his fingertips over her collarbone. It's ticklish and turns her on even more.
"I wanted to rip this off you earlier. You were trying to drive me crazy, weren't you?"
She gulps as his fingertip brushes against her pulse point. "I was just washing dishes when you knocked, I wasn't even thinking...-"
"Even if you're not trying Rachel, you drive me crazy."
She pulls back, holding onto his finger.
Finn smiles, and kisses her softly again, "In a good way. Believe me."
She nods, placated, and allows him to pull their bodies flush together. He feels so good in her arms, large and firm and hard and she wants him naked.
"I've dreamt about this," Finn whispers. He pulls away from her again, pushing his fingers in her hair, his thumb caressing her cheek.
He nods, his hand in her hair dropping to her neck, slowly trailing down her back.
"Ever since the day you were sitting cross-legged on the couch doing a crossword when I came to install Santana's TV. You were wearing a long-sleeve t-shirt and yoga shorts and for the life of me I couldn't stop staring at your legs."
She chuckles and leans forward to kiss him on the chin.
"Finn, that was over a year ago."
He shrugs, his hand dropping to rub against the skin at the waist of her shorts.
"I couldn't do or say anything, so I kept that image in my mind every day since."
She trails her fingers over his chest, down his stomach, brushing across his abs. His breath hitches and he licks his lips, his hand burning her hip.
"You're single, I'm single, and I'm sitting on my kitchen counter with my legs around you, so I'm guessing this is a good time to do something about that."
"I want to." He leans over her again, holding her gaze.
She clasps his face between her hands, bringing their lips closer together. "What're you waiting for?"
Finn growls lightly then and kisses her, hard, pulling her bottom lip between his teeth as he crushes her to his chest, his hand squeezing her bottom through her shorts. She moans as he sucks at her lip, his tongue plunging slowly in and out of her mouth.
His pushes her legs wider apart, his finger teasing the waistband of her shorts. He brushes his hand over her thigh, pressing himself into the heat between her legs, grunting when she rubs herself against him.
His finger dips under the edge of her shorts and panties, rubbing along her wetness, smiling against her lips when she moans.
"Off, please?" he asks.
She nods, leaning back and giving him room to pull them off. He licks his lips again, and pulls her yoga shorts and panties off slowly, his thumb rubbing over her ankle. He presses close-mouthed kissed to the sole of her foot, swirling his tongue over her ankle and up her foot.
She's dripping onto the table as she watches him with hooded eyes, biting her lip the closer her gets to her centre. He blows warm breath over her and kisses down the other leg.
She narrows her eyes at his smirk, jerking as he kisses behind her knee.
She lifts it straight in the air, showing off years of dance training, hooking it behind her head, stroking her thigh as Finn watches her with his mouth on the floor.
"Holy fuck. That is so fucking hot," He murmurs, his hand dropping to adjust himself in his pants.
"I've been dancing since I was three."
Finn nods as his eyes follow the line from her ankle down to where she was spread open for him. His finger trails from her ankle, over her knee, pressing into her thigh.
"Can you hold this pose?" He asks hoarsely.
Before she can answer, he drops to his knees, his tongue pressing between her folds.
She grabs onto his hair as he licks at her, his tongue swirling and plunging inside her, stars blinking behind her eyes when he wraps his lips around her clit and pulls. She squirms and jerks atop the counter, and Finn's hands secure her as he keeps lapping at her.
She pants and mewls as he licks, her body seizing when one finger then another presses inside her. Not long after she unravels under his tongue, crying out as her body vibrates, as an intense orgasm surges through her. She lets go of his hair, clapping her hand over her mouth to muffle her moans as her body climbs down from her high.
Finn kisses up her body, pulling her leg back down. He swirls his tongue in her belly button, licking the sweat off her chest as he makes his way up her body. He kisses each nipple before licking her neck, peppering light kisses up her jaw.
Her mind swims as she feels him throb against her
She clutches at his back, creeping her hands up his shoulders to grab his head, licking his chin before kissing, tasting herself on his lips. Finn hums and wraps his arms around her waist, pulling their chests together. She rubs herself against him, pressing herself onto his hardness.
Her mind swims as he throbs against her, her mouth watering as she imagines him hardening in her mouth.
She gasps when he bites down hard on her bottom lip, his fingers burying themselves in her air before pulling away.
She moans as her name slips off his lips, his voice throaty and deep.
"Fuck," he moans as she rubs herself against him again.
"I want to, I really fucking want to.."
"Then stop talking," she orders, gripping his face in her hands before kissing him again.
She mewls in protest as he pulls away.
"Five seconds," he says hoarsely. He kisses her quickly and literally jumps over the couch in his hurry to get to Santana's room. She closes her eyes and counts to five and he's back in front of her, tearing a golden packet impatiently.
"San's kept these in the same place she kept them since high school. You don't want to know where."
She giggles and puts her hand over her face. "Can I put down my leg now?"
He steps towards her again, bending to kiss her, trailing a hand up her thigh. She sighs happily and wraps her head arms around his neck, bracing herself.
He presses into her, slowly, inch by delicious inch, swallowing her moans and sighs before pulling away, then shifting his hips again.
"Rachel," he breathes.
Her eyes slip open on his command, breathing raspy as her body tingles, the movement of his hips stroking the fire pooled in her belly. He stretches her leg up, fingers curled around her ankle, holding her gaze as he moves inside her.
Her eyes roll back into her head as he pulls out again, moaning when he pinches her nipple.
He whispers her name and releases her leg, wrapping his arms around her and lifts her. She wraps her legs around his waist, curtaining their faces as he walks backwards, knocking into the counter, the couch – stopping to press her up against the wall as she rides him.
They make it to her bedroom, bodies slick with sweat as he lets her down gently onto the bed, his hips never leaving hers.
He presses her into the mattress, hips lips at her neck as his name spills from her lips, entwining their fingers together as he presses deeper inside her.
She wakes up swaddled in comfort. Peeking one eye open, she smiles at the pale arm wrapped around her, fingers laced between hers. Soft breaths against her shoulder and a firm chest at her back.
Moving as slowly as she dares, she twists in Finn's arms, staring at him as he sleeps. She's always known Finn was attractive. Asleep, with no care in the world, he's almost angelic – his nose scrunched up cutely, long lashes dusting the freckles on his cheek.
He snorts softly and turns his head into his shoulder, his nose bumping against hers. He blinks his eyes open and then smiles at her.
"Hi," she whispers.
He kisses her nose. "Hi."
She blushes and runs her palm over his chest.
"I thought you were a dream."
She pulls back to stare at him.
He blushes and ducks his head, hiding his face in her shoulder.
"Because," he says, his voice muffled.
She pokes him and he jerks away from her fingers, coming up laughing.
"Because you are a fantastic, beautiful, alluring woman and I have no idea why you're here, with me, now," he replies softly, curling his palm around her cheek.
She's too stunned for words, staring back at him, but accepts his kiss when he bends down to press their lips together.
"Oh for crying out loud!"
She squeaks and pulls away from Finn's kiss, diving under the covers. She feels his body shake in laughter beside her, and she punches him on the shoulder, pressing her face to his chest when his hand pulls her closer to his body.
"Really, Finn? Honestly!" Santana shouts again. "The ONE thing I ask you NOT to do and you DO IT! RACHEL! I warned you too!"
Santana shrieks again and throws something soft against them on the bed. Finn chuckles and throws it back to her.
"Santana, get out, would you?"
She peeks over the covers, from under Finn's arm to watch as Santana curses, gesturing wildly at them from in the hallway. She makes out every other phrase she's cursing in Spanish, something about messing up friendships, choosing between who to kill first as she stalks to the kitchen.
She reappears with the tray of cookies they'd left out on the counter.
"I'm eating every single one of these cookies. And I don't want to hear a peep out of either of you! Matter of fact, I'm going back to Jess'. Just, - argh! Stay out of my room!" She stomps petulantly and storms out of the apartment, slamming the front door.
Rachel slumps back onto the bed, covering her face in embarrassment. Finn chuckles lightly, rubbing her arm before pulling her hands away from her face.
He pouts as he stares at her and she bursts out in laughter, making him collapse in a fit of giggles beside her on the bed. He pulls her into his arms as their laughter subsides, stroking her side gently.
"Ugh!" He groans, smacking his forehead.
She freezes, staring at him. "What is it?"
"Santana. She took all the cookies. And those were damn good cookies!"
She laughs and swings her legs on either side of him. "I can always make more."
"Naked?" Finn asks, his eyes glued to her chest.
She swings her legs over the side, and hops off the bed, swaying her hips as she walks out to the hallway, tossing her hair over her shoulder.
A/N2: Yea - I'm off to get the other fics up to date! Likey? Oh, those cookies Rachel baked – are real, and tasty, I've baked them myself (note to self: do not give a 2 y/o boy cookies – you will spend your life chasing after them!) Check out and njoy heaven ;-)