Sina Libbu Ziana (Part 4a)
Title: Sina Libbu Ziana (Two Hearts Beating)
Rating: NC-17
Part: 4a/7
It's still dark when Will first wakes, the low light casting the room in gray-scale, and he's moved in the night so that he's spooned up to Finn's broad back, a loose arm tucked over his waist and his nose pressed into the young man's nape, breathing in the scent of his hair. He runs his hand up under Finn's t-shirt, stroking up the thin line of hair leading to his navel and spreading his hand out across his abs.
“Hm?” Finn mumbles, turning over and blinking blearily at Will. “Wha' time 's it?”
“Still night,” Will whispers, running his hand in soothing circles. “Go back to sleep,” He advises, shuffling out from under the covers.
It's uncomfortably cold out from under the duvet, away from the warmth of Finn's body against him. Will navigates his way to the bathroom by feel rather than sight, stumbling a little on Finn's jeans which have been left haphazardly beside the bed; he doesn't bother turning the light on as he relieves himself. The water that comes out of the faucet is ice cold at first, but the hot water tank kicks in after a moment and the stream of water warms enough that Will can stand to wash his hands under it.
Finn is sitting up when he returns and he pulls Will close again as soon as he gets back into the bed, pulling the blankets up over them.
“You're cold,” He mumbles, breath hot against Will's shoulders.
“You're warm,” Will answers, squirming pleasantly as Finn's hands start rubbing over him.
“Gotta warm you up,” Finn explains, his palms brushing over the coarse hair on Will's stomach.
Will arches back as pheromones start sinking into his pores and feels Finn's stirring dick pressing into the curve of his ass, he hums agreeably, “Yeah, gotta make me hot.” Finn's lips tighten into a smile against his neck and the young man's hand skims down over his stomach, disappearing under the waistband of his briefs to squeeze his cock. “Mmm, yeah. Like that,” Will moans, rolling his hips back on the hard length pressed to his ass, letting slip a stuttered gasp as Finn sucks on his earlobe and slowly flexes the foreskin back and forth over the head of his dick.
Will pushes his briefs down from his hips, then reaches back to tug Finn's underwear down over his stiff length; he slides the shaft between the cleft of his ass and rocks back again so that his hairy hole rubs roughly along the length.
“God that's-” Finn bites down on the nub of flesh between his teeth, cupping Will's balls and massaging the sac between his thumb and fingers.
“I want you to fuck me like this,” Will declares. He pulls away long enough to retrieve the condoms and lubricant then falls back onto the bed, rolling over so that he's slightly on his front rather than his side, and passes the tube back to Finn, “You know what to do, right?”
“Yes,” Finn replies, dropping a kiss between Will's shoulder blades as the sound of the cap popping open echoes through the room, loud over the dull background whir of the refrigerator. The gel is cool against the burning heat of Will's pucker, but it soon warms up as Finn's thick fingertips rub and smear it around the tight muscle. Finn withdraws to squirt more onto his finger before he presses inside and Will pushes back impatiently, impaling himself on Finn's cautious digit. Finn isn't persuaded by the action and uses his other hand to hold Will's hip firmly and restrict his movement as he progresses on to two fingers and stretches out the older man's hole.
There's a moment of loss as Finn withdraws and fights to open a condom wrapper, Will is about to offer his assistance when there is the sound of tearing foil and a triumphant grunt from Finn; he slides the rubber on as Will had taught him, then the swollen head of his cock is parting the tight entry muscle of Will's channel.
“Fuck, that's so good,” Will groans, rolling back onto his side as Finn slides in all the way. Finn's dick is fully sheathed inside his pliant, willing body and Finn reaches round to wrap his slick fingers around Will's prick, the sweet scent of the lube slightly tainted by the natural odor of his hole but with his mind hazy with arousal that's just about the sexiest thing Will can think of.
“I- I keep thinking that I'm going to wake up... That I'm gonna have soaked the whole mattress through and I'll still be fucking hard enough to pound nails with my dick,” Finn mumbles, stroking hesitantly over the flesh in his grip to smear the lube about.
“This is real, Finn,” Will assures, clenching down on the thick length inside him to prove it. “You're here.” ...For now, he pointedly doesn't add.
In response, Finn wraps his fingers round the base of Will's dick and slides from root to tip in one elegant motion; Will moans and finds suitable leverage to roll his hips, sliding off and then back onto the erection penetrating him.
They rock together, finding a lazy rhythm; Finn's length sliding a few inches out and then back into Will's tight passage with every movement, while his fingers make a complementary motion along Will's wet prick. The pace isn't demanding, it's slow and relaxed to match the atmosphere of the night, the hum of the refrigerator replaced by a chorus of their breathy exhalations and the gentle slap of flesh on flesh.
Will doesn't know how long they've been like that, fucking languidly in the early hours of this glorious Sunday morning when his dick stiffens in Finn's hand and he spills a sticky release over the young man's fingers and the humid covers beneath them.
“Oh god.” He feels every part of him go slack, every part of him save for his Eru Emuq pulsing hotly just above the thick cock still thrusting steadily into him.
Finn wipes his fingers clean on the covers and runs his damp hand up Will's chest, brushing over slack muscle and coarse chest hair; he pulls Will round as much as the man can manage to contort himself and it is just enough for Finn to be able to groan into a kiss as his dick pulses and fills the condom.
“Oh fuck.” Will grimaces as he feels wetness fill him and he slides Finn's softening dick from inside him quickly. He grips the condom and finds a tear in it, through which the spunk is steadily dripping.
“Shit,” Finn curses, placing his hand under the flow to stop it staining the sheets.
Will casts around for the foil wrapper, holding it up and eying the visible teeth marks in it, “You shouldn't bite the wrappers open, Finn. It's too easy to accidentally make a tear in the condom,” He advises.
“S-sorry,” Finn casts his eyes down ashamedly, “Are you okay?”
“Yes, it just- It's not a nice feeling,” Will explains, crooking a finger inside himself to clean the semen out. He sees the mournful expression on Finn's face and tilts his chin up with his free hand, smiling kindly. “Hey c'mon, it's not like you're gonna get me pregnant.”
A twitch of a smile appears on Finn's lips, “It'd be cool if you were though, we could go on Maury: My Spanish teacher is having our alien lovechild.”
“We're too classy for Maury,” Will asserts, the squelch of his fingers sliding free from his ass providing a rather contrary punctuation to that remark. “It'd be Springer all the way. We could bring the whole Glee club along, there's enough drama there for a two-hour special.”
Finn chuckles darkly and runs a hand down Will's flank, “I don't know if I like the idea of Mulder and Scully showing up to arrest you the moment we were done filming, though.”
“I'm sure you'd protect me,” Will muses, moving to lie down on the other side of Finn to avoid the wet patch.
“I would,” Finn assures confidently. “I'd fight for you and Drizzle.”
“Drizzle?” Will repeats uncertainly.
“That's what we'd call the baby,” Finn explains.
“Named after the manner of conception,” Will remarks wryly.
Finn blinks, then comprehends and looks aghast, “Okay, forget that; that would be the worst baby name ever.”
Will curls against the young man's side, resting his head on Finn's shoulder and shutting his eyes, “I'm going to sleep now and when I wake up the world will have stopped being crazy.”
He feels the vibration of Finn's laughter against his cheek, then a hand curls at his neck and fingers brush lightly through the hairs on his nape, “Night Will.” Finn presses a peck to his temple and then relaxes back onto the pillow.
Will's mind is plodding along steadily down a line of thought as he listens to Finn's breaths grow deep and even. They'd only been fooling around, but he somehow believes that Finn had really meant it when he said he'd defend Will from any authority that might be interested in learning about his alien origins. He saw how deeply Finn became entangled in Quinn's lie, how his devastation at uncovering the deception had been infinitely deeper than his initial breakdown in Will's arms when he'd first learned that she was pregnant.
He's seen Finn throw all his heart into something; so maybe, just maybe, there's really a chance that they can make something of this.
*
A beam of golden light is shining through the crack in the curtains when Will next wakes. He's still slumped over the younger man and he can feel the movement of Finn's diaphragm with each breath he takes. The bed reeks of sweat and spunk, the torn condom with it's congealed contents still laid out on the mattress where Will had been sleeping a few hours before. He picks the soiled rubber up, pushes his tangled briefs from around his knees and puts them in the trash and laundry hamper respectively as he gets up to take a much-needed shower.
He steps out of the shower with his skin flushed a rosy color from the heat of the spray and the intense scrubbing he did to remove any trace of dried ejaculate. He wipes a patch of clarity into the condensation on the mirror, then turns to pick up his razor and pauses at the sight of two toothbrushes waiting at the sink; one is his own trusty electric, the other is a cheap red manual brush with a fade-stripe to indicate when the user should get a new one. He opened the packet of the red brush for Finn last night, not really thinking about it at the time, but now the image of two toothbrushes is bringing back memories of early morning routines with Terri; dancing around each other as they got ready for work, occasionally bumping into each other in the doorway and sharing a chaste kiss before hurrying on with what they were doing.
He picks up the razor and turns back to the mirror, lathering up his chin and setting to work on shaving away the layer of stubble that has grown on his jaw. That part of his life is over and allowing himself to think about sharing that kind of intimacy with Finn is just irresponsible. The sting of aftershave feels good, a sharp pain to pull him from his idle daydreams.
He collects clean underwear, jeans and a t-shirt from his dresser and heads through to the kitchen once he's dressed. It's too late for breakfast, so he sets to work on brunch instead.
Finn stumbles through to the kitchen a little while later looking absolutely adorable: eyes squinting against the sunlight, sleep-mussed hair standing up in tufts, one hand tucked behind his head to scratch at his nape, still dressed in only his gray undershirt and the ludicrous polkadot boxer shorts.
“You're making bacon,” He says, looking towards the frying pan.
“And eggs,” Will adds, indicating with the spatula. “And toast,” He gestures towards the toaster. “There would be beans but we used the last can yesterday, but there's still the leftover pizza.”
Finn slumps down at the breakfast nook, resting his chin in his hands tiredly, “I think I love you.”
Will feels a hot stab in his gut, he knows it's a joke but that doesn't ease the panic he feels at the words. He slides rashers and a fried egg onto a plate, butters the toast when it pops up and delivers the whole lot to the table, placing it in front of the younger man.
Finn looks up shyly through his lashes, a hint of a blush on his cheeks, “I, um, that was a joke; you know that, right?”
“I know.” He rolls his eyes indignantly, but can't help his relief at the confirmation.
Will turns back to the stove, adding more bacon and cracking an egg into the sizzling frying pan. He shapes the egg with the spatula, then turns away long enough to put two slices of bread in the toaster. He pieces his breakfast together, pours a fresh cup of coffee from the pot he'd prepared and then sits down opposite Finn. Finn looks up from the cold slice of ham and pineapple he's eating, his brown eyes full of uncertainty, and Will considers how strange this must be to somebody who's never had a morning-after breakfast prepared for him before.
“How was the bacon?” He queries, eying the empty plate in front of Finn and sipping at his coffee to mask his smile.
“Dude, it was- I would hunt down and kill the pig myself if it meant I could have more of that bacon,” Finn enthuses.
“Well, fortunately this planet has a wonderful little thing called a grocery store which means that won't be necessary,” Will answers pleasantly. “Speaking of, I'm going to have to go today since I'm pretty much down to just cup-a-soup and rice crackers.”
“So, um, that's your polite way of telling me that I need to leave, right?” Finn infers.
“Yes, but-” Will reaches across the table and takes the young man's hand, running a thumb across his knuckles, “But not right now.” Finn smiles over at him and takes advantage of his hands being preoccupied by stealing a rasher from Will's plate. His reprimand for the theft is far too fond.
When their plates are bearing only the crumbs of their breakfast, Finn gets up and adds them to the growing mound of dirty dishes on the counter; he doesn't tackle the pile and load them into the dishwasher, but that would really be expecting too much. He hovers awkwardly and avoids Will's gaze, “So, do you want me to go home?”
“No,” Will answers considerately, standing up. “Right now I'd like you to fuck me across the table,” He continues conversationally, resting his hands on the edge and bending forward, sticking his denim-clad behind up in the air and glancing over his shoulder to observe the reaction.
Finn's pupils engorge as his hungry gaze lands on the stretch of skin visible from where Will's t-shirt has ridden up, the stretch of skin that has his pulsing Eru Emuq lurking underneath; Finn's Ni reaches towards Will yearningly, but he steps back and gestures towards the bedroom, “I'll just go grab the...”
Will straightens up and undoes his fly, pushing his jeans and briefs down his legs and resuming the position he'd taken, waiting for Finn. He doesn't have to wait for very long before Finn reappears in the doorway, the swollen length of his semi bouncing in the front of his boxers with each hurried step; he pauses and gives a little whine at the sight of Will's bare ass, his Ni visibly growing as his hormones soar.
Finn presses the tube of lubricant into Will's hand, “Can you-?” He requests stiltedly, tearing a square of foil from the strip inside the box.
Will accepts it readily, “Make myself ready for you?” He purrs, squeezing a dollop onto his index finger and reaching down to circle his eager hole.
“God,” Finn groans, watching the movement and squeezing Will's hip, “You drive me crazy.”
Will takes a deep breath and sinks his finger in up to the knuckle, then gasps when Finn's hand strays down between his legs to coax his rising prick to full hardness, “Fuck.”
“Hm,” Finn steps to one side, so he won't get in the way of Will's probing fingers, and leans down to suck on his earlobe. “Let's,” He suggests in a dirty whisper, his breath close enough to make the shell of Will's ear twitch.
“Get the condom on,” Will insists. He slides his finger free and the tube of lubricant wheezes as the last squirt of slick gel is squeezed onto his waiting fingers; he tosses it onto the table, then reaches down and works two fingers up into himself. “Get it on, I need you inside me.”
Finn obediently tears open the foil wrapper, being careful not to damage the contents; he pushes his boxers to his knees and rolls the condom on, “I'm ready.”
“Yeah,” Will agrees, withdrawing his fingers and bracing himself against the table again. “Yeah, me too.”
Finn puts a hand on Will's hip, holding the base of his cock steady as he guides the head past the tight, resisting ring of muscle; then snaps his hips forward and sinks in to the hilt in one smooth motion the instant he feels the muscle relax. Will moans and his slick fingers lose their purchase on the edge of the table, he slides forward so that his forearms are resting flat on the table and Finn reclaims the lost ground with another jut of his hips.
“Damn, that's good,” Will says, turning to look over his shoulder.
“You like that?” Finn queries, pulling out a scant inch and sliding back in.
“I love it,” Will answers, green eyes burning with arousal as he tilts back further.
“You like my big cock stretching you out?” Finn continues, helpfully leaning down over his back so they can join their lips.
“I'd like it a whole lot more if you'd move,” Will challenges, rutting against the table to try and earn some friction inside his wet, stretched passage.
Finn puts a hand to Will's back, pushing him down until his chest is flat across the surface of the table, he follows him down and nips at the shell of his ear, “I'm fucking you, so we'll do it my way.”
Will's Eru Emuq throbs, his prick pulses where it's caught between the hard surface of the table and the warm flesh of his belly; his nails scratch at the Formica, the arch of his back trembles, every part of him is looking for a way to vent the sudden surge of heat inside him and the only way out is through his mouth, “Oh god, Finn, just- Zidda, please for the love of- Fuck me, come on, fuck me!” The cry he gives as Finn's dick drags against his hole and the feeling of fullness leaves him is nothing short of despairing.
“Tell me how much you want it,” Finn instructs, hovering with his cockhead pressed against Will's twitching pucker.
It's hard to pull air into his lungs when every part of him is just waiting for the thick length to thrust into him again; his heavy exhales are misting up the varnished layer of the tabletop and he's scrabbling to get his brain to function, “Kibrat, Kibrat... I-” The throbbing in his Eru Emuq goes wild and neurochemical energy burns up his spine, leaping out of him and sending the flower vase on the table skidding back into the wall, a thin crack appears and it starts leaking water out across the table. “I need it bad, Finn. I need you.”
“God, you're-” Finn rolls his hips and starts making shallow thrusts in and out of Will's slick hole, “Fucking beautiful like this,” He grunts out. Will just cries out in reply, lost in the sweet glide of Finn's dick, the rock-solid core and slack slide of foreskin. Rivulets of water collect at his fingertips.
Finn takes his hand from Will's back, setting both hands on his waist to help his erection sink deeper into the older man's welcoming heat with each jerk of his hips. Will welcomes the renewed freedom because it brings his mind down from its deranged high and he has enough mental clarity to rock back and meet each slide of Finn's hips. His own erection bounces against the tabletop as the momentum passes through him and droplets of precome spurt out, he makes a mental note to use some Dettol before he next eats at the table.
Finn scrambles his hands underneath Will's stomach and pulls him upright, sliding out of the older man despite the protesting noise he makes.
“Turn round,” Finn commands. “I want to see you.”
“O-okay.” Will kicks his jeans and briefs off, then turns round and groans in intense satisfaction when Finn steps between his legs and slides his hard cock up into him again. He wraps his legs round Finn's thighs and uses his leverage on the table edge of push himself down onto the cock inside him, “That's so good, Zidda.”
The table hinges groan at the weight, so Finn lowers his hands to rest under Will's thighs and lifts him up; Will wraps his hands around Finn's shoulders in return, rocking as best as he can in the position.
“Can you make it to the bed?” He gasps out, pressing soft kisses against Finn's neck.
“Probably not,” Finn answers, trembles running through him. He shifts his grip on the man in his arms, lifting him up and down on his stiff dick.
“Then, just... Up against the wall,” Will compromises. Finn nods and takes a few unsteady steps, then Will's back is braced against the wall and he is able to thrust up into him; he places his lips over Will's and swallows his moan at the first buck. Will looks down into Finn's smoldering eyes and rocks on the solid length impaling him, his hands coming to rest on Finn's shoulders. “You're gorgeous,” He says, reaching up to wipe sweat from Finn's hairline, tugging at a few sleep-mussed tufts.
“And you're incredible,” Finn answers, licking a stripe up his neck, “You're like a wet dream come true.”
Will's head falls back against the wall with a dull thud, his eyes close to slits, and he soaks his shirt with spunk as Finn bites tenderly at his throat. His Eru Emuq is still throbbing and he's too boneless to assist, but thankfully Finn groans at the involuntary clenching of his ass around the young man's erection and he fills the condom in several short bursts.
Finn doesn't drop him, for which he is immeasurably grateful, and when the softening dick slides free from his slick, plundered passage, Will is able to get his legs under him. They lean heavily on the wall and each other, fighting to regain control of their breathing and indulging in sloppy, breathless, post-coital necking. When the world around them stops feeling like the deck of a merchant galleon on rough seas, Finn tugs off the condom, throws it in the trash and heads through to the bathroom to take a shower. Will peels off his semen-stained t-shirt and deposits it in the laundry hamper, then collects his jeans and underwear from the kitchen floor and waits for the bathroom to be free.
When he gets back from his second shower of the morning, he finds Finn waiting in the bedroom, fully-dressed: plaid shirt, puffer vest, sneakers, everything. He looks rumpled, but no more than he would do from having spent a night on the couch, so Will doesn't fret too much about what somebody might assume if they saw him.
“I wanted to say goodbye,” He remarks timidly.
“Hey, why the sad face?” Will stops in front of him, trying to be cheerful, “I'll be seeing you again tomorrow right?”
“I'll be seeing Mr. Schuester tomorrow,” Finn answers and the way he says the name it's like it really is a completely different person. He reaches out and runs a finger along the light bruise he'd left on Will's chest the day before, “But that won't be you. We both know that things have to go back to normal tomorrow.” He's speaking as if it is a foregone conclusion, but there's a hint of something pleading in his soft brown eyes; a yearning for Will to tell him that they should continue this, that it would be worth the risk.
Will is unbearably tempted to tell him just that, to pull the young man close and just refuse to let go, but the frail belief from last night in the possibility of having something real with Finn has evaporated under the harsh light of day; so he settles a hand on Finn's shoulder and squeezes tight, a purposefully platonic gesture, “You're right, this is... It's better that it ends now.”
He tries not to hate himself when he sees the faint hope in the young man's eyes crumbling. “Right,” Finn's voice sounds scratchy and he rubs the heel of his hand across his eyes. “Thanks for, for letting me stay and stuff. I-” His voice breaks into a higher register and he coughs to straighten out his tone before he continues. “Thanks,” He says again, but Will suspects that isn't what he'd meant to say.
“It was- I enjoyed having you here, Finn,” Will says, smiling thinly, hating how shallow and heartless his assurance sounds to his own ears.
He can't bring himself to watch as Finn struggles to put up a facade of his usual bright grin; he turns aside so that he won't stop Finn from leaving, from taking the exit that he needs to make if they're going to pretend tomorrow that they're just a teacher and student, with no deeper ties to each other than an extracurricular club.
Finn pauses in the doorway, not looking back as he mumbles out a shaky farewell, “Bye Will.”
Will sits on the edge of his bed in the suddenly quiet room, listening for the sound of the front door closing; he tightens his fingers in the plush fabric of the towel stretched over his thighs and tries to convince himself that he's done the right thing.
Part 4b
Rating: NC-17
Part: 4a/7
It's still dark when Will first wakes, the low light casting the room in gray-scale, and he's moved in the night so that he's spooned up to Finn's broad back, a loose arm tucked over his waist and his nose pressed into the young man's nape, breathing in the scent of his hair. He runs his hand up under Finn's t-shirt, stroking up the thin line of hair leading to his navel and spreading his hand out across his abs.
“Hm?” Finn mumbles, turning over and blinking blearily at Will. “Wha' time 's it?”
“Still night,” Will whispers, running his hand in soothing circles. “Go back to sleep,” He advises, shuffling out from under the covers.
It's uncomfortably cold out from under the duvet, away from the warmth of Finn's body against him. Will navigates his way to the bathroom by feel rather than sight, stumbling a little on Finn's jeans which have been left haphazardly beside the bed; he doesn't bother turning the light on as he relieves himself. The water that comes out of the faucet is ice cold at first, but the hot water tank kicks in after a moment and the stream of water warms enough that Will can stand to wash his hands under it.
Finn is sitting up when he returns and he pulls Will close again as soon as he gets back into the bed, pulling the blankets up over them.
“You're cold,” He mumbles, breath hot against Will's shoulders.
“You're warm,” Will answers, squirming pleasantly as Finn's hands start rubbing over him.
“Gotta warm you up,” Finn explains, his palms brushing over the coarse hair on Will's stomach.
Will arches back as pheromones start sinking into his pores and feels Finn's stirring dick pressing into the curve of his ass, he hums agreeably, “Yeah, gotta make me hot.” Finn's lips tighten into a smile against his neck and the young man's hand skims down over his stomach, disappearing under the waistband of his briefs to squeeze his cock. “Mmm, yeah. Like that,” Will moans, rolling his hips back on the hard length pressed to his ass, letting slip a stuttered gasp as Finn sucks on his earlobe and slowly flexes the foreskin back and forth over the head of his dick.
Will pushes his briefs down from his hips, then reaches back to tug Finn's underwear down over his stiff length; he slides the shaft between the cleft of his ass and rocks back again so that his hairy hole rubs roughly along the length.
“God that's-” Finn bites down on the nub of flesh between his teeth, cupping Will's balls and massaging the sac between his thumb and fingers.
“I want you to fuck me like this,” Will declares. He pulls away long enough to retrieve the condoms and lubricant then falls back onto the bed, rolling over so that he's slightly on his front rather than his side, and passes the tube back to Finn, “You know what to do, right?”
“Yes,” Finn replies, dropping a kiss between Will's shoulder blades as the sound of the cap popping open echoes through the room, loud over the dull background whir of the refrigerator. The gel is cool against the burning heat of Will's pucker, but it soon warms up as Finn's thick fingertips rub and smear it around the tight muscle. Finn withdraws to squirt more onto his finger before he presses inside and Will pushes back impatiently, impaling himself on Finn's cautious digit. Finn isn't persuaded by the action and uses his other hand to hold Will's hip firmly and restrict his movement as he progresses on to two fingers and stretches out the older man's hole.
There's a moment of loss as Finn withdraws and fights to open a condom wrapper, Will is about to offer his assistance when there is the sound of tearing foil and a triumphant grunt from Finn; he slides the rubber on as Will had taught him, then the swollen head of his cock is parting the tight entry muscle of Will's channel.
“Fuck, that's so good,” Will groans, rolling back onto his side as Finn slides in all the way. Finn's dick is fully sheathed inside his pliant, willing body and Finn reaches round to wrap his slick fingers around Will's prick, the sweet scent of the lube slightly tainted by the natural odor of his hole but with his mind hazy with arousal that's just about the sexiest thing Will can think of.
“I- I keep thinking that I'm going to wake up... That I'm gonna have soaked the whole mattress through and I'll still be fucking hard enough to pound nails with my dick,” Finn mumbles, stroking hesitantly over the flesh in his grip to smear the lube about.
“This is real, Finn,” Will assures, clenching down on the thick length inside him to prove it. “You're here.” ...For now, he pointedly doesn't add.
In response, Finn wraps his fingers round the base of Will's dick and slides from root to tip in one elegant motion; Will moans and finds suitable leverage to roll his hips, sliding off and then back onto the erection penetrating him.
They rock together, finding a lazy rhythm; Finn's length sliding a few inches out and then back into Will's tight passage with every movement, while his fingers make a complementary motion along Will's wet prick. The pace isn't demanding, it's slow and relaxed to match the atmosphere of the night, the hum of the refrigerator replaced by a chorus of their breathy exhalations and the gentle slap of flesh on flesh.
Will doesn't know how long they've been like that, fucking languidly in the early hours of this glorious Sunday morning when his dick stiffens in Finn's hand and he spills a sticky release over the young man's fingers and the humid covers beneath them.
“Oh god.” He feels every part of him go slack, every part of him save for his Eru Emuq pulsing hotly just above the thick cock still thrusting steadily into him.
Finn wipes his fingers clean on the covers and runs his damp hand up Will's chest, brushing over slack muscle and coarse chest hair; he pulls Will round as much as the man can manage to contort himself and it is just enough for Finn to be able to groan into a kiss as his dick pulses and fills the condom.
“Oh fuck.” Will grimaces as he feels wetness fill him and he slides Finn's softening dick from inside him quickly. He grips the condom and finds a tear in it, through which the spunk is steadily dripping.
“Shit,” Finn curses, placing his hand under the flow to stop it staining the sheets.
Will casts around for the foil wrapper, holding it up and eying the visible teeth marks in it, “You shouldn't bite the wrappers open, Finn. It's too easy to accidentally make a tear in the condom,” He advises.
“S-sorry,” Finn casts his eyes down ashamedly, “Are you okay?”
“Yes, it just- It's not a nice feeling,” Will explains, crooking a finger inside himself to clean the semen out. He sees the mournful expression on Finn's face and tilts his chin up with his free hand, smiling kindly. “Hey c'mon, it's not like you're gonna get me pregnant.”
A twitch of a smile appears on Finn's lips, “It'd be cool if you were though, we could go on Maury: My Spanish teacher is having our alien lovechild.”
“We're too classy for Maury,” Will asserts, the squelch of his fingers sliding free from his ass providing a rather contrary punctuation to that remark. “It'd be Springer all the way. We could bring the whole Glee club along, there's enough drama there for a two-hour special.”
Finn chuckles darkly and runs a hand down Will's flank, “I don't know if I like the idea of Mulder and Scully showing up to arrest you the moment we were done filming, though.”
“I'm sure you'd protect me,” Will muses, moving to lie down on the other side of Finn to avoid the wet patch.
“I would,” Finn assures confidently. “I'd fight for you and Drizzle.”
“Drizzle?” Will repeats uncertainly.
“That's what we'd call the baby,” Finn explains.
“Named after the manner of conception,” Will remarks wryly.
Finn blinks, then comprehends and looks aghast, “Okay, forget that; that would be the worst baby name ever.”
Will curls against the young man's side, resting his head on Finn's shoulder and shutting his eyes, “I'm going to sleep now and when I wake up the world will have stopped being crazy.”
He feels the vibration of Finn's laughter against his cheek, then a hand curls at his neck and fingers brush lightly through the hairs on his nape, “Night Will.” Finn presses a peck to his temple and then relaxes back onto the pillow.
Will's mind is plodding along steadily down a line of thought as he listens to Finn's breaths grow deep and even. They'd only been fooling around, but he somehow believes that Finn had really meant it when he said he'd defend Will from any authority that might be interested in learning about his alien origins. He saw how deeply Finn became entangled in Quinn's lie, how his devastation at uncovering the deception had been infinitely deeper than his initial breakdown in Will's arms when he'd first learned that she was pregnant.
He's seen Finn throw all his heart into something; so maybe, just maybe, there's really a chance that they can make something of this.
*
A beam of golden light is shining through the crack in the curtains when Will next wakes. He's still slumped over the younger man and he can feel the movement of Finn's diaphragm with each breath he takes. The bed reeks of sweat and spunk, the torn condom with it's congealed contents still laid out on the mattress where Will had been sleeping a few hours before. He picks the soiled rubber up, pushes his tangled briefs from around his knees and puts them in the trash and laundry hamper respectively as he gets up to take a much-needed shower.
He steps out of the shower with his skin flushed a rosy color from the heat of the spray and the intense scrubbing he did to remove any trace of dried ejaculate. He wipes a patch of clarity into the condensation on the mirror, then turns to pick up his razor and pauses at the sight of two toothbrushes waiting at the sink; one is his own trusty electric, the other is a cheap red manual brush with a fade-stripe to indicate when the user should get a new one. He opened the packet of the red brush for Finn last night, not really thinking about it at the time, but now the image of two toothbrushes is bringing back memories of early morning routines with Terri; dancing around each other as they got ready for work, occasionally bumping into each other in the doorway and sharing a chaste kiss before hurrying on with what they were doing.
He picks up the razor and turns back to the mirror, lathering up his chin and setting to work on shaving away the layer of stubble that has grown on his jaw. That part of his life is over and allowing himself to think about sharing that kind of intimacy with Finn is just irresponsible. The sting of aftershave feels good, a sharp pain to pull him from his idle daydreams.
He collects clean underwear, jeans and a t-shirt from his dresser and heads through to the kitchen once he's dressed. It's too late for breakfast, so he sets to work on brunch instead.
Finn stumbles through to the kitchen a little while later looking absolutely adorable: eyes squinting against the sunlight, sleep-mussed hair standing up in tufts, one hand tucked behind his head to scratch at his nape, still dressed in only his gray undershirt and the ludicrous polkadot boxer shorts.
“You're making bacon,” He says, looking towards the frying pan.
“And eggs,” Will adds, indicating with the spatula. “And toast,” He gestures towards the toaster. “There would be beans but we used the last can yesterday, but there's still the leftover pizza.”
Finn slumps down at the breakfast nook, resting his chin in his hands tiredly, “I think I love you.”
Will feels a hot stab in his gut, he knows it's a joke but that doesn't ease the panic he feels at the words. He slides rashers and a fried egg onto a plate, butters the toast when it pops up and delivers the whole lot to the table, placing it in front of the younger man.
Finn looks up shyly through his lashes, a hint of a blush on his cheeks, “I, um, that was a joke; you know that, right?”
“I know.” He rolls his eyes indignantly, but can't help his relief at the confirmation.
Will turns back to the stove, adding more bacon and cracking an egg into the sizzling frying pan. He shapes the egg with the spatula, then turns away long enough to put two slices of bread in the toaster. He pieces his breakfast together, pours a fresh cup of coffee from the pot he'd prepared and then sits down opposite Finn. Finn looks up from the cold slice of ham and pineapple he's eating, his brown eyes full of uncertainty, and Will considers how strange this must be to somebody who's never had a morning-after breakfast prepared for him before.
“How was the bacon?” He queries, eying the empty plate in front of Finn and sipping at his coffee to mask his smile.
“Dude, it was- I would hunt down and kill the pig myself if it meant I could have more of that bacon,” Finn enthuses.
“Well, fortunately this planet has a wonderful little thing called a grocery store which means that won't be necessary,” Will answers pleasantly. “Speaking of, I'm going to have to go today since I'm pretty much down to just cup-a-soup and rice crackers.”
“So, um, that's your polite way of telling me that I need to leave, right?” Finn infers.
“Yes, but-” Will reaches across the table and takes the young man's hand, running a thumb across his knuckles, “But not right now.” Finn smiles over at him and takes advantage of his hands being preoccupied by stealing a rasher from Will's plate. His reprimand for the theft is far too fond.
When their plates are bearing only the crumbs of their breakfast, Finn gets up and adds them to the growing mound of dirty dishes on the counter; he doesn't tackle the pile and load them into the dishwasher, but that would really be expecting too much. He hovers awkwardly and avoids Will's gaze, “So, do you want me to go home?”
“No,” Will answers considerately, standing up. “Right now I'd like you to fuck me across the table,” He continues conversationally, resting his hands on the edge and bending forward, sticking his denim-clad behind up in the air and glancing over his shoulder to observe the reaction.
Finn's pupils engorge as his hungry gaze lands on the stretch of skin visible from where Will's t-shirt has ridden up, the stretch of skin that has his pulsing Eru Emuq lurking underneath; Finn's Ni reaches towards Will yearningly, but he steps back and gestures towards the bedroom, “I'll just go grab the...”
Will straightens up and undoes his fly, pushing his jeans and briefs down his legs and resuming the position he'd taken, waiting for Finn. He doesn't have to wait for very long before Finn reappears in the doorway, the swollen length of his semi bouncing in the front of his boxers with each hurried step; he pauses and gives a little whine at the sight of Will's bare ass, his Ni visibly growing as his hormones soar.
Finn presses the tube of lubricant into Will's hand, “Can you-?” He requests stiltedly, tearing a square of foil from the strip inside the box.
Will accepts it readily, “Make myself ready for you?” He purrs, squeezing a dollop onto his index finger and reaching down to circle his eager hole.
“God,” Finn groans, watching the movement and squeezing Will's hip, “You drive me crazy.”
Will takes a deep breath and sinks his finger in up to the knuckle, then gasps when Finn's hand strays down between his legs to coax his rising prick to full hardness, “Fuck.”
“Hm,” Finn steps to one side, so he won't get in the way of Will's probing fingers, and leans down to suck on his earlobe. “Let's,” He suggests in a dirty whisper, his breath close enough to make the shell of Will's ear twitch.
“Get the condom on,” Will insists. He slides his finger free and the tube of lubricant wheezes as the last squirt of slick gel is squeezed onto his waiting fingers; he tosses it onto the table, then reaches down and works two fingers up into himself. “Get it on, I need you inside me.”
Finn obediently tears open the foil wrapper, being careful not to damage the contents; he pushes his boxers to his knees and rolls the condom on, “I'm ready.”
“Yeah,” Will agrees, withdrawing his fingers and bracing himself against the table again. “Yeah, me too.”
Finn puts a hand on Will's hip, holding the base of his cock steady as he guides the head past the tight, resisting ring of muscle; then snaps his hips forward and sinks in to the hilt in one smooth motion the instant he feels the muscle relax. Will moans and his slick fingers lose their purchase on the edge of the table, he slides forward so that his forearms are resting flat on the table and Finn reclaims the lost ground with another jut of his hips.
“Damn, that's good,” Will says, turning to look over his shoulder.
“You like that?” Finn queries, pulling out a scant inch and sliding back in.
“I love it,” Will answers, green eyes burning with arousal as he tilts back further.
“You like my big cock stretching you out?” Finn continues, helpfully leaning down over his back so they can join their lips.
“I'd like it a whole lot more if you'd move,” Will challenges, rutting against the table to try and earn some friction inside his wet, stretched passage.
Finn puts a hand to Will's back, pushing him down until his chest is flat across the surface of the table, he follows him down and nips at the shell of his ear, “I'm fucking you, so we'll do it my way.”
Will's Eru Emuq throbs, his prick pulses where it's caught between the hard surface of the table and the warm flesh of his belly; his nails scratch at the Formica, the arch of his back trembles, every part of him is looking for a way to vent the sudden surge of heat inside him and the only way out is through his mouth, “Oh god, Finn, just- Zidda, please for the love of- Fuck me, come on, fuck me!” The cry he gives as Finn's dick drags against his hole and the feeling of fullness leaves him is nothing short of despairing.
“Tell me how much you want it,” Finn instructs, hovering with his cockhead pressed against Will's twitching pucker.
It's hard to pull air into his lungs when every part of him is just waiting for the thick length to thrust into him again; his heavy exhales are misting up the varnished layer of the tabletop and he's scrabbling to get his brain to function, “Kibrat, Kibrat... I-” The throbbing in his Eru Emuq goes wild and neurochemical energy burns up his spine, leaping out of him and sending the flower vase on the table skidding back into the wall, a thin crack appears and it starts leaking water out across the table. “I need it bad, Finn. I need you.”
“God, you're-” Finn rolls his hips and starts making shallow thrusts in and out of Will's slick hole, “Fucking beautiful like this,” He grunts out. Will just cries out in reply, lost in the sweet glide of Finn's dick, the rock-solid core and slack slide of foreskin. Rivulets of water collect at his fingertips.
Finn takes his hand from Will's back, setting both hands on his waist to help his erection sink deeper into the older man's welcoming heat with each jerk of his hips. Will welcomes the renewed freedom because it brings his mind down from its deranged high and he has enough mental clarity to rock back and meet each slide of Finn's hips. His own erection bounces against the tabletop as the momentum passes through him and droplets of precome spurt out, he makes a mental note to use some Dettol before he next eats at the table.
Finn scrambles his hands underneath Will's stomach and pulls him upright, sliding out of the older man despite the protesting noise he makes.
“Turn round,” Finn commands. “I want to see you.”
“O-okay.” Will kicks his jeans and briefs off, then turns round and groans in intense satisfaction when Finn steps between his legs and slides his hard cock up into him again. He wraps his legs round Finn's thighs and uses his leverage on the table edge of push himself down onto the cock inside him, “That's so good, Zidda.”
The table hinges groan at the weight, so Finn lowers his hands to rest under Will's thighs and lifts him up; Will wraps his hands around Finn's shoulders in return, rocking as best as he can in the position.
“Can you make it to the bed?” He gasps out, pressing soft kisses against Finn's neck.
“Probably not,” Finn answers, trembles running through him. He shifts his grip on the man in his arms, lifting him up and down on his stiff dick.
“Then, just... Up against the wall,” Will compromises. Finn nods and takes a few unsteady steps, then Will's back is braced against the wall and he is able to thrust up into him; he places his lips over Will's and swallows his moan at the first buck. Will looks down into Finn's smoldering eyes and rocks on the solid length impaling him, his hands coming to rest on Finn's shoulders. “You're gorgeous,” He says, reaching up to wipe sweat from Finn's hairline, tugging at a few sleep-mussed tufts.
“And you're incredible,” Finn answers, licking a stripe up his neck, “You're like a wet dream come true.”
Will's head falls back against the wall with a dull thud, his eyes close to slits, and he soaks his shirt with spunk as Finn bites tenderly at his throat. His Eru Emuq is still throbbing and he's too boneless to assist, but thankfully Finn groans at the involuntary clenching of his ass around the young man's erection and he fills the condom in several short bursts.
Finn doesn't drop him, for which he is immeasurably grateful, and when the softening dick slides free from his slick, plundered passage, Will is able to get his legs under him. They lean heavily on the wall and each other, fighting to regain control of their breathing and indulging in sloppy, breathless, post-coital necking. When the world around them stops feeling like the deck of a merchant galleon on rough seas, Finn tugs off the condom, throws it in the trash and heads through to the bathroom to take a shower. Will peels off his semen-stained t-shirt and deposits it in the laundry hamper, then collects his jeans and underwear from the kitchen floor and waits for the bathroom to be free.
When he gets back from his second shower of the morning, he finds Finn waiting in the bedroom, fully-dressed: plaid shirt, puffer vest, sneakers, everything. He looks rumpled, but no more than he would do from having spent a night on the couch, so Will doesn't fret too much about what somebody might assume if they saw him.
“I wanted to say goodbye,” He remarks timidly.
“Hey, why the sad face?” Will stops in front of him, trying to be cheerful, “I'll be seeing you again tomorrow right?”
“I'll be seeing Mr. Schuester tomorrow,” Finn answers and the way he says the name it's like it really is a completely different person. He reaches out and runs a finger along the light bruise he'd left on Will's chest the day before, “But that won't be you. We both know that things have to go back to normal tomorrow.” He's speaking as if it is a foregone conclusion, but there's a hint of something pleading in his soft brown eyes; a yearning for Will to tell him that they should continue this, that it would be worth the risk.
Will is unbearably tempted to tell him just that, to pull the young man close and just refuse to let go, but the frail belief from last night in the possibility of having something real with Finn has evaporated under the harsh light of day; so he settles a hand on Finn's shoulder and squeezes tight, a purposefully platonic gesture, “You're right, this is... It's better that it ends now.”
He tries not to hate himself when he sees the faint hope in the young man's eyes crumbling. “Right,” Finn's voice sounds scratchy and he rubs the heel of his hand across his eyes. “Thanks for, for letting me stay and stuff. I-” His voice breaks into a higher register and he coughs to straighten out his tone before he continues. “Thanks,” He says again, but Will suspects that isn't what he'd meant to say.
“It was- I enjoyed having you here, Finn,” Will says, smiling thinly, hating how shallow and heartless his assurance sounds to his own ears.
He can't bring himself to watch as Finn struggles to put up a facade of his usual bright grin; he turns aside so that he won't stop Finn from leaving, from taking the exit that he needs to make if they're going to pretend tomorrow that they're just a teacher and student, with no deeper ties to each other than an extracurricular club.
Finn pauses in the doorway, not looking back as he mumbles out a shaky farewell, “Bye Will.”
Will sits on the edge of his bed in the suddenly quiet room, listening for the sound of the front door closing; he tightens his fingers in the plush fabric of the towel stretched over his thighs and tries to convince himself that he's done the right thing.
Part 4b