New Favourite Memory
Title: New Favourite Memory
Chapter: 1/1
Pairing: Finn/Rachel
Summary: He smiles over at her and she's glaring at him, but a little grin breaks on her lips when she meets his eyes. "We're late."
Word Count: 3,500
Disclaimer: Don't own.
He knows they're going to be late before she even gets home. Because he knows her and most people can get ready for a night out in less than an hour. But his wife? She can't.
He doesn't want to be a jerk and be ready and waiting when she walks through the door, so he just showers and pulls on a pair of jeans and a tee shirt, sits on the couch and listens for her key in the lock. The Yankees are playing, so he watches with the volume low. She likes coming home to a mostly quiet house, which he gets. Her job is pretty noisy and so is the city.
It's twenty past 6:00 when she bursts through the door in her clothes from rehearsal, drop her bags and toes off her shoes. She rushes right over, kisses him way too fast, and takes off again.
"I'm just going to shower and get ready real quick." She turns around a second too late to see him shaking his head, which is very much a good thing. "You're not wearing that, are you?" she asks, eying his NYU tee shirt.
He doesn't answer. He knows this game. She's not asking him a serious question, she's telling him to change.
He follows her into the bedroom after he hears the water turn on for her shower. Her clothes are in a pile on the bedroom floor and the bathroom door is open. He just shakes his head again as he picks up after her and drops her things into the hamper in the closet. She'd never just drop things on the floor if she wasn't attempting to rush herself.
Checking the clock, he knows they'll have to drive instead of taking the subway. That's fine. It's also not the first time.
She starts singing in the shower. She does it all the time. You'd think she'd get sick of hearing herself or something, but he guesses that since he knows he never will, it kind of makes sense. She's still the best singer he's ever heard. It's just a huge bonus that he gets to live with her every day.
She's singing a song from the show she's working on. It makes him smile as he listens. She'll literally practice anywhere. Like the night she got drunk and begged him to sing Summer Lovin' with him on the subway, then broke out into Hopelessly Devoted when he refused. Then, when she was done and people were clapping, she told them to go see her in the show and literally took their names (he tried to stop her) and said she'd set tickets aside for them. Once she sobered up, she tried to convince him it was 'grassroots marketing'.
The water turns off, then the blow dryer turns on. He's pulling his belt through the loops of his black pants and standing there with his grey shirt unbuttoned and his black tie draped around his neck. He hasn't seen her since this morning, so he wanders into the bathroom. She looks at his chest in the mirror as he stands behind her.
"Good day?" he asks over the whir of the dryer.
She nods. "Great. Just long." Obviously. "I love that shirt."
He knows she does. She bought it for him. He loves the way she looks with a towel wrapped around her body.
He reaches forward, pressing himself against her back in the process, to grab his styling wax off the counter. She shoots him a look. He kisses the side of her head she's not trying to dry.
"That's not fair," she says while he rubs some wax through his hair. "It takes you less than 10 minutes to look gorgeous."
He rinses his hands and sets them over the towel on her hips. (It's as good a place as any to dry his hands.)
"Takes you no time," he murmurs into her ear.
She turns off the dryer and smiles at him in the mirror. It's this quiet, soft, secret smile she has only for moments like this one. He kisses the back of her shoulder before he leaves the bathroom.
They're going to be so late.
"Finn, babe, could you get my black dress from the closet for me?" she calls to him.
He opens up the closet door and looks inside, but seriously, she's going to have to be way more specific. She's got about five black dresses. "Which one?"
"The one! I told you last night. With the silver zipper up the back!" He finds it and runs his hand over the fabric as he carries it to the bed. "Find it?"
"Yeah, Rachel, I found it." He laughs a little and buttons his shirt. She drops something in the bathroom and he hears her mutter a curse, but he doesn't call her on it because he knows she's rushing and he doesn't want to put her in a bad mood. "You need shoes?"
"You can't pick my shoes!" she giggles. She pokes her head out the bathroom door and he sees she's got her makeup like, halfway done or so. "I'll pick them. You'll have me in penny loafers or something."
He scoffs and tucks in his shirt as she steps back into the bathroom. "You used to wear those all the time," he mutters under his breath.
And honestly, there are few things in the world better than his wife in a pair of heels.
He ties his tie and sets his shoes on the floor at the end of the bed, then leans back against their headboard until she steps out of the bathroom naked, save for a pair of lace panties. Fuck. They're late. He has to remind himself they're late.
"Is that really the time?" she asks. He holds back the sarcastic remark. "God. Finn!"
Somehow it's his fault. He's ready to go.
She pulls her dress up over herself hips and tugs it over her arms, but doesn't zip it. He knows she'll ask him to do that later. Her hair's down, but he knows she'll probably put it up. She has to keep it long for this show she's in and the length annoys her. She grabs shoes from the closet and sets them on the floor, and she's trying to put her feet in them, but it's hard when she's also trying to fasten her earrings.
He finds himself staring at her with a little smirk on his face. She catches sight of him in the mirror and turns to shoot him a look. It's her 'This isn't funny! And don't say a word!' look. She holds his gaze a few moments and pulls her hands away when she finishes with her earrings.
He just smiles a little wider and watches her until she's standing in her heels and pulling her hair up in her hands, holding it in place with some bobby pins right above the nape of her neck.
"Here," he says, getting off the bed and stepping towards her. He pulls at her zipper and zips her into her dress and she sprays on her perfume. Some gets on his arm, but he's really not so worried about that. He smells like her most of the time anyway. "Ready?"
She takes a deep breath and nods, turns her head a little, which he knows by now means she wants him to kiss her as close to her mouth as he can without messing up her lip gloss.
So he does, then he takes her hand and grabs his keys and she presses the button for the parking garage elevator while he locks the door behind him.
... ... ...
"Finn!" she shouts, turning in her seat to look out the rear window. "That light was red!"
"It was yellow."
"Which means slow down!"
"Actually, it means I should gun it and make it through before it turns red," he argues. He smiles over at her and she's glaring at him, but a little grin breaks on her lips when she meets his eyes. "We're late."
He hasn't mentioned it until right now. That's totally earned him points, he knows.
"They're going to be so mad," she says, checking the time on the dash clock. "We're almost 40 minutes late. I hope we don't lose our reservation."
"Don't worry about it." He swerves to miss a pothole and yeah, he's driving a little faster than he would if they weren't 40 minutes late. "If we do, we'll go somewhere else."
She shakes her head a bit, and another light turns yellow as he approaches. He steps on the gas mostly just to prove his point, and she grabs his hand over the console.
... ... ...
He gets the valet ticket and sets his hand on the small of her back as they walk to the front of the restaurant. He never really understood the big deal about this place, but Kurt and Rachel love it, so they end up here a lot. And they've got the money now to order things other than just a few appetizers to share, so whatever. He likes it when everyone's happy, and the food is really good. All he's saying is that he's just as happy with Chilis, you know?
He really loves this dress. She wore it once before, to something or for something he can't remember. The zipper is totally sexy and he likes the way the sleeves show off how toned her arms are. Stupid to notice, maybe, but once you're married to someone a while you start to memorize things like that.
Puck and Santana and Kurt and Blaine are sitting at the bar with drinks in their hands. Blaine just shakes his head when he sees Rachel and Finn approaching, and then Santana turns around and laughs. Puck grumbles something, and Santana smacks his arm. Kurt just kisses Rachel's cheeks and tells her he loves her ensemble.
"You're almost an hour late," Santana says, handing Rachel a mostly-full martini. "I had to drop your name to get them to hold our ressy."
Rachel takes a sip of her drink and looks at Finn over her shoulder. He knows exactly what this little smirk on her lips is for. He winks at her and sets his hand on her shoulder.
"Finn's hair wouldn't cooperate. And you all know how terrible he is with a tie."
Everyone - even Puck, who apparently is fucking starving, man - laughs and Rachel leans back against Finn a bit. She's been telling people this for years as her excuse for being minutes or more late for things. She was totally busted when they were all home two Christmases ago and he walked down the stairs into the Berry's living room and he was tying his tie without even looking. Rachel had gone beet red.
But they all still let her use the excuse every now and again. He lets her, too.
They're shown to their table and Rachel lets him pull out her chair for her. They order a couple bottles of wine for the table and she sets her hand on his thigh while she talks and looks over the menu. Mostly talks. They all know the menu really well by now. They've been coming here once a month for like, two years. Since just after he and Rachel got married.
"I can't decide between the veggie stir-fry or that amazing salad I like," she says, looking over at him. It's the same thing every time. She can't decide. Ever. "Honey, what did I get last time?"
"I don't remember," he says, rubbing her shoulder. "The stir-fry, maybe?"
"Mmm. It's so good." She smiles at him and he leans over and kisses her. Their friends are used to the PDA by now. "What are you having?"
He loves this, the way they can carry on their own conversation even though they're with their friends. It's weird, but he's always kind of felt like this is part of what a marriage is, mundane conversations with one another instead of paying attention to everyone else all the time. He's told her this theory, but even now, he knows she doesn't only do it because he likes it. They've kind of always done it.
She gets the stir-fry and he orders this steak think he and Puck love and pretty much always both order. Rachel has three glasses of wine and ends up turned away from him a little as she talks to Blaine and Santana, and Finn's arm stays around the back of her chair. Every once in a while she'll brush against him or something. He definitely strokes his thumb over her skin every so often.
They share dessert, but she eats most of it, like usual, and her hand is on his thigh again while he grabs his wallet and drops down his credit card to pay for their meals.
It's late by the time they leave, and she holds his arm as they wait for the valet to bring their car around. "That was fun," she says. He nods and she plays with his wedding ring. "I don't know why Noah and Santana can't just admit they're actually a couple."
"I don't know," he says, shaking his head. Santana and Puck have been sleeping together forever, and he knows they spend more time together than they admit to the group. Puck told him they barely spend nights away from one another and Puck hasn't slept with anyone other than Santana in over a year.
Finn opens the car door for Rachel and makes sure she's situated before closing it and tipping the valet, then getting behind the wheel.
She takes his hand over the console again.
He doesn't run any yellow lights.
... ... ...
She's still laughing at something he said in the elevator when he unlocks the door to their apartment and holds it open for her to walk through. He had a client today ask him who his wife was and then nearly start crying, because apparently the guy saw her in some show while she was still in college and told everyone who would listen that she'd be a huge Broadway star. But really, the guy held Finn's hand for almost five minutes and asked for details about her. Nothing too far over any lines, he just wanted to know what she's like.
"What did you say?" she asks coyly, pouring them each a glass of water from the filter pitcher in the fridge.
"That I love you," he answers.
She sets the pitcher down and cocks her head to the side. "Finn."
"What?" he laughs. She really wants to know what he said. And yeah, he did say that, but she wants more and he's pretty good at giving her what she wants. "I said I've known you forever and you're one of the best people I've ever met."
"Did you?" she asks. She's smiling though, because she knows he's telling the truth.
"Mhmm." He takes the glass of water she hands him and follows her to the bedroom, her heels clicking on the hardwood. "And that you really are as sweet as people say you are."
She sips her water and sets it on the table on her side of the bed. "Anything else?"
He grins at her and loosens his tie. "That no one even understands how talented you really are."
She sets her hand on his chest and leans up on her toes to kiss him. It's like a thank you, but he doesn't need it. He just said the truth.
She turns around and glances over her shoulder. "Unzip me?"
He makes sure his knuckles graze her skin as he tugs the zipper back down. Often when she puts on dresses like this, she doesn't wear a bra underneath. That doesn't mean he didn't spend a good portion of his night thinking about it.
He unbuttons his shirt and pulls the tails from his pants as he watches her take the pins from her hair so it falls down past the middle of her back, almost covering all the skin left bare when he unzipped that dress. She unfastens her earrings and slips her bracelet off her wrist. He's just gotten his belt and pants undone when she stumbles a little trying to pull her feet from her shoes. He watches her set her hand on the dresser to steady herself, and glance at him in the mirror.
Once her feet are bare, she turns to him and blinks slowly. Her tongue darts out to wet her bottom lip and a lock of hair has fallen over her shoulder.
"Finn," she says in a quiet voice. He steps towards her, because that's what she was just asking for, and sets his hands on her shoulders. "I love you, too."
"Yeah." He tugs down the arms of her dress and lets it fall to the floor. One of them will pick it up in a couple minutes. "I know." His hands, on her sides, he looks down at her face and strokes his thumbs over her warm skin. "You look gorgeous tonight."
She curves her hand around the back of his neck and draws him down for a kiss, and they're both shirtless and she's wearing a hell of a lot less than he is, which he forgets about until she pushes his pants down off his hips. He hooks an arm around her slender waist and walks her backwards to the bed, lays her down, settles himself above her, her legs open for him to lay between. She kisses him all slow and teasing until he's chasing her lips and manages to set his hand on her cheek and keep her where he wants her. He slides his tongue across her lips and she moans and opens her mouth for him, then draws her knees up and pushes at his boxers with her feet. She whimpers a little when he angles his hips against hers, then she says his name all impatiently like she's not sure why he's not naked yet.
When he stands to push his shorts off the rest of the way, she gets frustrated with her hair and gathers it all, throws it behind her a little so it's fanned out in a mess over the bed. She looks so, so incredible that he can't wait any longer and puts his hands on her hips to tug her panties down.
She covers his hands with hers, though. "Finn," she gasps. He kisses her hip bone and she sucks in a breath. "Will you pick up my dress?"
He chuckles against her stomach, looks up at her and he knows she's serious - she always is, they just get carried away - and she threads her fingers through his hair.
He picks up her dress and drapes it over the arm of the chair in the corner of the room, then walks back over to the bed and kisses from her knee to the inside of her thigh and upward, until she raises her hips and he stops teasing her.
Afterward, they're laying in the dark and she asks him if he locked the front door when they came in. He knows he did, but she asks him to go check, and he gets up and leaves her naked and alone in their nice warm bed.
The door is locked. He knew the door was locked. She apologizes, as he climbs back into bed, for making him get up to make sure.
"It's okay," he says, and he opens his arm for her when she moves closer and wants to lay up against him.
Because yeah, he's really good at giving her what she wants.