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Anonymous asked: Lipstick (future Finchel)

“You’re awfully quiet.”

Rachel toys with the cord of the phone. She’s always wanted to invest in one of those cordless types, but the one she’s holding in her hand was a thrift store find, and she doesn’t really want to part with it. As infantile as it sounds, it symbolises her relationship with Finn, and she’d hate to see it go.

“I know,” she finally manages, and she wraps the cord around her finger as she lets out a pent up sigh. “Sorry, Kurt, I’m just-“ She sighs again, and she can imagine him nodding his head on the other end of the line. “It’s nothing, I’m okay.”

“Oh, but you’re not. No matter what the issue, you always like to vent to me whether I want to hear it or not, unless…”

“Unless?”

“Unless it’s Finn related business, in which you stay positively silent.”

Usually she’d be impressed by how well her best gay knows her, but her heart isn’t in the conversation. “So you should know by now that I’m not going to complain about my fiancé to his brother. We’ll get through it.”

“Isn’t that what you always say?” She picks up on his change of tone, and her heart thumps irregularly. “Rachel, normal couples don’t have to get through things constantly. All you and Finn seem to do these days is ‘get through it’, and maybe you should-“

“Don’t you dare,” she snaps, her fingers tightening around the phone receiver, “don’t you dare tell me that Finn and I would be better off apart, because I do not need to hear that from you, Kurt. You’re supposed to be my best friend!”

She’s not sure if he understood her last words, as a sudden onslaught of tears engulfed her body, though she does her best to compose herself. Finn will be home soon, and she doesn’t need him to see her like this.

“And it’s as your best friend that I’m saying this! I can’t remember the last time you were happy, and-“

She slams the phone down and pulls fruitlessly on her hair until the tears that sting her eyes are a mixture of sadness and pain. It hurts because it’s true, because she’s been having issues that she can’t put her finger on, and instead of just being honest with Finn, she keeps closing herself off instead.

In high school, she was brutally honest with him, to the point that she wondered if their relationship was normal. She had no qualms telling him that she had to shave her legs before they made love, or that she was on her period and not in the mood for anything too strenuous, or that she couldn’t kiss him after he’d eaten anything containing garlic. Every time though, he’d always chuckle and kiss her and tell her how much he admired her honesty, and it just worked. She would bare her heart and soul again and again because she trusted Finn with her life, and he’d cherish whatever she had to say.

Their dynamic has changed, even if she can’t pinpoint how and when. She finds herself thinking things that she doesn’t intend on telling him, and she lies about how she’s feeling when he asks her every morning. Finn hasn’t noticed, because why would he? She’s never felt the need to hide anything from him before, so why should he suspect that anything’s wrong?

It’s wrong though, so wrong, and she doesn’t know why. She flinches when he kisses her and recoils when he cuddles her, and if she weren’t such an amazing actress, it would be obvious.

She’s used to this, being an actress. Sometimes she’s lucky when it comes to co-stars, and she’s cast alongside a dashing young man who she can pretend to love for a few nights a week. Sometimes she’s unlucky, and she has to try hard to remain in character and kiss a stranger who repulses her. She flashes a fake smile and pretends to enjoy the company, and with a heavy heart, she realises that she’s somehow started reacting in the same way to Finn.

There’s the sound of his key in the apartment door, and Rachel only has a few seconds to bolt into their bedroom to pretend to be taking a nap. She can’t face him, not in such a state, and he knows to leave her alone when she’s resting (she made some nonsense up about preserving her vocal chords, and like the loving, trusting person he is, he believed her).

She tries desperately to even out her breathing in case he decides to pop his head around the door, and sure enough, the heavy footsteps of his work boots traipse along the floor until she can feel his gaze on the back of her head as she hugs his pillow and tries not to cry.

She waits for the door to close, but it doesn’t. The thud thud thud of his shoes continues, and then all she can hear is the sound of his uniform rustling as he throws it to the floor. She bites back the need to berate him for that (she’s told him too many times to hang his clothes up), and freezes when the bed dips.

His arms wrap around her as she presses a face to her neck, and all she sees is darkness as she shoves him away in a violent gesture. It’s out of character and completely inappropriate, and the noise that leaves Finn’s throat makes her catch her breath at how unreasonable she’s being, but she’s snapped; something inside of her has snapped.

“I’ve told you that I’m not to be disturbed!” She turns to stare at him with crazed eyes, and she’s too high on her own drama to register the hurt on his face. “Do you just choose not to listen to me whenever I speak, hmm? Do you think ‘oh, there she goes again, ranting about something I don’t give a fuck about’.” He winces at her language, and it only makes her laugh. “Get over it Finn, I cursed, it’s not a big deal.”

“Rachel, what’s happened?”

“Nothing’s happened, and that’s the problem!” She tries to tug the comforter around her body, but Finn’s steady grasp keeps it in place. “Give me that!”

“Babe, you know you can talk to me-“

“Give me it-“

“Just let me help you with-“

She slaps him straight across the face.

Since they first met, she’s only done so three times.

The first was during her sophomore year, when his misguided attempt to support ‘his’ baby ended up breaking her heart.

The second time was during the first year of his fire service employment, when he risked his life to save a trapped child and almost killed himself in the process (that particular slap had been followed with a heated kiss and a love making session that had lasted the night).

The third time-

She doesn’t know why she just hit him, and evidenced by the betrayal in his eyes and on his face and in her heart, he doesn’t know either.

“Just get out,” she says in exasperation, and he doesn’t argue. He just gets up, and she cries, and she hears him leave not five minutes later.

The loneliness kicks in at the same time as the guilt, and she rocks herself back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

Back and forth.

~

When he finally returns, it’s almost three in the morning, and her wits have long since been worn out. He didn’t answer his phone the sixteen (and a half) times she called, and the irrational part of her mind told her that something had happened to him.

No, it wasn’t possible, Finn was tall and strong and brave and good, and her heart told her he was okay (physically at least).

She waits for him to walk into the bedroom, but he never does, and she assumes he’s resigned himself to the couch.

She pads into the living room, one of his oversized shirts hanging loosely on her body, bed socks muffling the sound of her footsteps.

“Finn?”

He’s lifeless in his seat, sitting upright, looking at the dark ceiling. He doesn’t respond, and she feels a wave of nausea engulf her.

“Finn?”

“Go to bed.”

“We need to talk.”

He cocks his head.  “Sure.”

Taking a deep breath, Rachel sinks beside him on the couch. She has to be honest with him, finally, but where would she even begin? Her eyes soak in his sullen, sad appearance, and it’s only when she looks to his face that she notices it.

A lipstick mark on his cheek.

The shape of lips that aren’t her own, on her fiancé’s skin; she has to fight the urge to dry heave at the very sight.

“We had a fight and you ran away to some other woman?”

Finn finally meets her gaze, and it catches her by surprise; he looks empty, betrayed, in pain, but she pushes that from her mind because there’s lipstick on his face.

“That’s what you’re calling it?” His voice is quiet. “A fight?”

“Oh, so you’re not denying it?”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“You’re deflecting.”

“And you’re being completely unreasonable.”

She laughs a laugh that is completely void of humour, and even now, Finn winces at the sound. “I’m the unreasonable one? You’ve obviously been fooling around with someone else, and if you expect me to take this lightly then you don’t know me at all!”

“No, I don’t know you.” He sits forward in his seat and clings to the couch cushions as he stares her down, and she moves back a little, caught off guard by the hostility in his posture. “You know why? Because the girl I love, my fiancée, her name is Rachel Berry, and since the very first day we met, she’s always been open with me.”

“Don’t,” she says weakly, but he doesn’t take any notice of her.

“We’re a team, and I have to hear from Kurt­-“ His voice cracks, on the edge of tears, and Rachel whimpers as her lip quivers. “I have to hear from my brother that I’m apparently having problems in my relationship.”

“Finn-“

“No,” he chokes out, “no, you c-can’t get out of this now, it’s too late.” He scrubs a hand over his face in an overly rough manner, and though the room is dark, she can clearly see the tears running freely down his cheeks. “I knew you wouldn’t like it if I disturbed your nap,” he begins, and his voice shakes in tandem with her body, “I knew, but I needed… I needed you.” He cracks, and on instinct, Rachel leans forward to hug him.

For the first time ever, he rejects her and pushes her away.

“When I was on duty, we were called out to a fire not so far from your theatre.”

She doesn’t want to hear anymore of the story. She already seems to know what’s coming, and knowing how despicably she’s behaved, she can’t bear to hear what she’s already waiting for.

“It was bad, but it’s what we’re there for. T-Tommy and me, we had to look for civilians, but it was so b-bad, and he was, there was fire everywhere, and he somehow, he was trapped, and I tried, I tried, Rachel.” He hangs his head in his hands and sobs without shame until the couch is shaking with the tremors of his body.

Rachel’s frozen in her spot. Thomas Barlow is-

She gulps and bites back tears.

Thomas Barlow was Finn’s best friend at the station. He was only a couple of years older, and the two of them bonded straight away. He was such a nice man, and on the occasions when Rachel invited him over with his girlfriend for dinner, the four of them always got along well.

“I was supposed to go back and save myself and all that crap, but Tommy was s-still alive, and- and I couldn’t get to him. He d-d-died, alone.“ He sits up, rubs his eyes, takes a deep breath, then pauses. “I needed you.”

“Is that why you went and found yourself a slut to cheer yourself up?”

Rachel’s never had an out of body experience before, but there’s always a first time for everything, right? This is her first time, and she feels herself looking down on her actions, completely horrified. Her fiancé’s best friend has just been killed, and yet she’s still trying to hurt him.

She doesn’t recognise herself anymore.

“Actually, I went to see his mom.” His voice is now no more than a whisper. “She lives here alone, and I needed to see her, to tell her I tried my best.” He chuckles, but just like Rachel’s laugh, it’s void of anything other than bitterness. “She thanked me, kissed my cheek, and when I left, I could hear her crying.” He gives her a look that penetrates her being, and in that moment, she can barely see Finn, the boy she loves. He’s a stranger to her, and she wonders if that’s how she appears to him.

“Finn…”

“What? What do you want me to say? That I’m just as miserable as you are? That I’m pretending to be in love when I’m actually miserable?”

She sucks in a breath and shakes her head as tears flitter down her face. “I’m not pretending.”

“Then what is it?”

“I’m disappointed!” It comes out louder than she meant it to, but at least Finn is still beside her, willing to listen to her excuses. “I’m so disappointed in my life.”

“In me,” he chokes, and her hand darts out to take his. He doesn’t pull away, and she’s utterly grateful for that tiny gesture.

“No, Finn, no. You’re actually the only thing that’s keeping me sane.” His lip flickers with a brief smile that’s gone in an instant. “I’m so sorry I hit you.”

“It doesn’t matter.” His other hand closes around hers, and he shuffles closer, face full of concern. “Talk to me, baby, please.”

“I hate it here,” she finally whispers, and as the words leave her mouth, she feels relief beyond compare. The burden of her secret has been removed by the one person she cares about most, and it’s as if everything has suddenly clicked into place. All her anxieties and worries seem trivial, now that Finn knows the truth. “For so long, I’ve wanted New York, the idea of this magical city, full of opportunity.” She lets out a shuddering breath. “But I don’t like it.”

“Babe…”

“I know,” she whimpers, “I know, I should have told you, but you’ve been so h-happy, and you love working at the station and-“

His lips meet hers in a slightly frantic, needy, ‘this says more than I ever can’ kind of way, and when they break apart, he rests his forehead against hers while the two of them catch their breath.

“I may love being in New York, and I may love my job, and I may love the deli at the end of the street that sells the best sandwiches ever, but I love you more than any of that meaningless crap.”

She blushes under his adoring gaze, and her eyes glisten with unshed tears, a reflection of his own as a couple still trail down his cheeks. “Apart from you, New York has always been my constant, so what am I supposed to do now that I’m lost?”

He smiles that lazy, crooked grin that she loves, and he kisses her again until her eyelids flutter in the same way as the butterflies in her stomach. “Let me find you,” he breathes, and she pulls him closer as he tongue enters her mouth, and she feels it, the spark between them, and moans in appreciation while he chuckles and kisses her harder.

They make love on the floor of their apartment, with only the moon peeking through the window to light their way. She trusts Finn explicitly, which means against her better judgement, they’ve had sex in all kinds of unusual places. Some of these were quick, fevered fucks in stolen moments of time, and others were mutual oral sessions when the full experience wasn’t possible.

As Finn slips inside her until she’s arching her back and whimpering his name, she realises just how much she prefers this approach. Despite his size, Finn’s incredibly careful with her, a true gentle giant, and her body burns with desire with every move that he makes. When he cups her breasts and grazes her nipples with his slightly calloused thumbs, she sees stars, and when he peppers sweet, open-mouthed kisses along her neck while humming the tune of one of her favourite songs, she cries because she loves him so much (no matter how over the top that seems).

He helps her to the edge as his fingers knead at her swollen clit in time with the bucking of his hips, and as she comes, her soft cries become broken, helpless sobs. She moves her body against him until she feels him tense up and spill inside her, and with a look of horror on his face, he cradles her to his chest while he kisses her hair.

“Did I hurt you? R-Rach, I-“

“No, no, I promise you didn’t.” She nuzzles his bare, sweaty skin, and he simply holds her while she closes her eyes and wonders what she did to deserve him.

~

When she wakes up in the morning, the bed is empty, and her dread returns as she glances around the room in a desperate attempt to find Finn. Then, like he’s the happiest guy in the world, said Finn strolls towards her from the bathroom with a small smile on his face, and she breathes out in relief.

“Had to pee, sorry babe.”

He kisses her forehead and cheeks and nose while she purrs under his attention, and when he stops, she absentmindedly brushes a thumb over the fading lipstick on his skin. “I don’t know how you put up with me.”

“Neither do I,” he teases, his eyes bright, and she tuts as she playfully hits his shoulder.

“I’m being serious. I was so horrible to you last night, especially after what happened to Thomas.”

He flinches, and it’s soon her turn to cover him in kisses, and though she’s usually not a fan of morning sex, she makes an exception until they’re both worn out, panting side by side.

“He was a good man.”

She bites her lip and kisses his shoulder. “He was, and so are you for trying to save him.” He snorts, and she kisses him again. “You are the bravest person I know, and I’m just so thankful you’re okay, because if anything had happened to you, and our last moments had been a ridiculous fight because I’m such a heartless-“

A finger to her lips stops her pity fest, and when he removes it, Finn curls it in her hair as he watches her. “Don’t start with that. I’m okay, you’re okay, and even if we’re both hurting because of stuff, we have each other, right?”

“Of course,” she says brightly, and she curls into his side as he runs a hand along her back. “I’m scared, but I’ll be okay as long as I have you.”

“Me too.” They stay that way for a while, existing in a comfortable silence, until Finn frowns and gazes down at her, his brown eyes meeting hers. “You like performing still.”

“Yes.”

He purses his lips. “It’s just New York you have a problem with.”

“Yes.”

He nods. “The West End is in London.”

She hesitates, eyes wide and shining. “Yes.”

“They have fires in England.”

Giggling ensues. “Yes, I assume so.”

“London.” He smirks, and she grins.

“London… That’s a thought.”

“Think we have it in us?”

She only has to think on it for a second before they commence their second round of sex, and once her body is completely spent from the numerous ways Finn defiled her, she has just enough energy to text Kurt while Finn watches on with a proud, teary grin.

Me and Finn are so perfectly happy that you’d no doubt gag over how loving and affectionate we are. No need to worry over me anymore; everything is wonderful! Rachel* xxxxx

“Before we leave America for a brave new world and stuff, there’s one place I kind of wanna visit first.”

Rachel roots around their room to find clean underwear for the both of them, and therefore doesn’t look up to see his face. “Oh, and where would that be?”

“Vegas.” Her heart legitimately stops. “That’s where all the eloping happens, right?”

48 hours later, she’s standing in Trafalgar square, one hand clutching Finn’s tightly, the other sporting a brand new ring to add to her collection.

She’s terrified, completely and utterly terrified, but finally, she’s happy.