How One Finn Hudson Got to Second-and-a-Half Base with Rachel Berry

Author's Note: These were some of my imaginings of Finn and Rachel in Rocky Horror Glee Show before the episode aired.

Mr. Schuester clapped his hand once to call attention to the Glee clubbers. He paced downstage, occasionally looking up from his script to make sure his instructions were being listened to and understood. "Okay, and that's blocking for 'There's a Light.' Finn, Rachel, take a seat. Mercedes, Sam come on up! All the rest of you are in this scene—except Dr. Scott-but we'll fit in the crowds later …"

Rachel led Finn downstage. He mindlessly complied, his eyes looking ahead of him at nothing in particular. Then she looked up at him when she stopped. He jerked to life, smiling at her. Her eyes were so wide with worry!

He held the smile as he sat on the stage. Instead of sitting next to him, Rachel walked back upstage a bit. What was she doing?

Then he saw. She halted, skirted around his right leg, then backed up. Finn's eyes shot open a moment as he caught a glance of her underwear. He instinctively looked around to see if any pervs would catch site. He saw there was no chance of anyone else seeing. They were the farthest downstage of anyone.

Then she sat down between his legs and stretched her back against his chest. She then scooted her butt on the floor until her rear was practically crushed against his crotch. He grunted.

He heard her giggle; seeing that her desired effect had been achieved. He then placed his chin on her head, held out his script, and he began to read. The whole script this time, Hudson, he reprimanded himself.

He had no idea what he was in for. He had to stand around in his UNDERWEAR in front of the school? What else was in the script he hadn't read?

He read that he proposes to "Janet." No problems there. Rachel must have seen what page he was on because she gently kissed his neck then continued to intently watch the rehearsal. ("It's not retractive at all for the star to also know what the ensemble is doing at every point in the play. That's just professionalism," she had told him the night they got together to go over the script—a failed attempted which disintegrated into making out and rolling all over Finn's script.)

He then read that he and Janet get a flat tire. They walk in the rain to a castle and have a duet. Then they see a party going on. (JANET faints into BRAD's arms …. JANET faints into BRAD's arms … JANET faints into BRAD's arms…. He was going to enjoy being her knight in shining armor as she spazzed out like a true drama queen …Oh, yeah the part of JANET had RACHEL written all over it.)

Mercedes sings about being a "Sweet Transvestite," whatever that means … Riff-Raff, that is Kurt, takes off his clothes … That made Finn a little uneasy. It had been almost five months since Kurt and Finn had a blow-out over Kurt's overbearing crush on him, but the thought of Kurt, even in character, undressing him made him really, really uncomfortable.

But they were undressing Janet—Rachel—Janet, too. So, he wouldn't be the only tool half-naked on stage. That made him feel a little better.

But that meant all the guys in the school would be watching her, getting dirty thoughts as she strutted around in bra and underwear! He felt almost sick to his stomach.

But he pushed on.

It got worse. Mercedes would seduce him AND Janet. And Janet would see him getting seduced. Seeking to get back at him, Janet would …. sleep with Sam.

Oh, he didn't like this AT ALL. Rachel, in bra and underwear, would be stroking Sam in tight golden short-shorts, moaning and groaning for him to "Toucha-Toucha-Touch" her …. Now, he really felt sick.

Rachel sensed his tension. First, she tried kissing his neck with a little more gusto, murmuring "Everything is gonna be fine, babe. Eveything is gonna be fine." But he still sat stiffly, face red, so Rachel raised her hand for a full half-minute—practically losing circulation around her elbow, she held her hand up so tight and determined—until Mr. Schue said, "Yes, Rachel."

"Finn and I would like to be excused to go over lines."

"All right, Rachel. But don't go far. And please, actually be rehearsing. Understand?"

"Yes, of course, Mr. Schuester. Come, Finn..."

Rachel led Finn's stiff hand in silence down the hall way into the choir room, which was strewn with costumes and chairs in random places. She motioned for him to sit in one. She brought a chair to place next to his.

"I don't like this, Rachel. This isn't a good play for high school. I'm not sure it's a good play for ANYONE in a committed relationship."

"Oh…"

"I thought the idea of me standing in my underwear in front of the school was bad. But THIS." He slapped the page of "Toucha."

"This show is not for the conservative. Certainly not."

"It's not for us, either. I can't stand the idea of all the boys in school seeing you in your bra and underwear! And moaning and feeling up Sam. I just can't stand it!"

"Finn. Calm down."

"I can't calm down. Do you know what the guys in the school will be THINKING? I know because I've had those thoughts, and I hear what they say in the locker room if a girl shows a little more skin than usual. Believe me; you don't want it."

"This show is supposed to be provocative. I'm not me in the play, Finn. I'm Janet Weiss, Brad's straying fianceé—not Rachel Berry, Finn's lucky girlfriend."

"The school won't think that! These aren't adults. These are teenagers. They'll think just what I'm thinking. My girlfriend likes to be half- naked on stage feeling up another half-naked dude when he hasn't even done that with his boyfriend."

"Even many adults aren't mature enough to think past that, but I don't care. This is how my life in show business will always be."

"Can't you at least do it with you clothes on?"

"That's not for me to decide, Finn. It's in the script."

"Can't we take it out of the script?"

"Finn, baby, you're so pale … I really think you're overreacting. Truly."

"I don't."

` "Okay, I have it. Would you getting the sneak peak make you feel any better? That way Sam doesn't get farther than you have gotten."

"You mean, like, sex?"

"Well, I'm not sure about that … But feeling one another up while half-naked. I mean, we do it with our clothes on practically all the time."

"I'm not sure this makes me feel any better."

"Why? Are you afraid … getting … excited with less clothes on will turn me off?"

"You've noticed?"

"With your body up against mine, it's … pretty obvious. Oh, don't turn red! It's totally normal. Okay-In fact, I think it's flattering. You're not a virgin anymore, yet you and me making out turns you on so much. I mean, really turns you on. It's almost alarming."

"Yeah, okay, fine, Rachel. Just please stop talking about it!"

"All right! It's a date then! Half-naked grinding will commence … When's the next time your mom works nights?"

"Thursday."

"Thursday night, then! Get your homework done by 8, because we are going to get down and dirty."

Finn should have been happy about this—and, really, the opportunity to see Rachel half-naked was awesome—but his worry nagged at him. He knew the people at this school—especially the boys. How they choose their victims; how the climate can ebb at certain actions. But Rachel doing this play? How was he going to protect her from the thoughts? And—oh, God!—the locker room conversations. He already had to put up their comments on her short skirts, but this was a whole new level! They wouldn't respect her at all. They'd give her wolf-whistles, slap her on the ass—because, after her display in the play, they would decide she must be open for business.

Before he knew it, he found himself back on the auditorium floor, Rachel comfortably placing herself between his legs, holding both his hands firmly. Kissing them.

She was trying. But she really didn't get it. And how could she? She was a girl. She didn't know how terrible locker room talk could get—how he already had a hard time defending her honor. But he wasn't sure he could tell her what they say already. It would help her understand, but it would make things worse for Rachel, knowing what guys think of her.

He made it. It was Thursday night, and though he hadn't finished homework, he lied and told her he had, and they set right to business. She really didn't mess around. She was comically comical sometimes, and in this instance, it was reassuring to Finn.

And now she was standing, almost naked, in front of him. He was sitting on her bed in his underwear. Rachel's methodical commands kept him from getting surprised. Yes, it took out the spontaneity, but that was already shot when her advancement in her career inspired their rendezvous of half-naked … what? I guess he'd find out. He got hot and gulped. His breathing became exaggerated—but controlled—and kinda soothing.

He realized Rachel was breathing with him. Their breathing was in sync, like when they made out—but they weren't even touching. He wasn't even hard. But watching Rachel stand there, staring into his eyes, raising and lowering her nearly-bare, olive chest—he felt awesome and in control.

"Scoot over and lie down, Finn." His name never sounded better than in that moment.

As he lowered himself onto the bed, he realized he was trembling. He saw Rachel's black-nailed hand make its way up his chest. Her head then met her hand as it held his chin. She propped half her body onto his, and his heartbeat hitched as he felt her breast brush his right shoulder. She worked her lips from his chin to his earlobe. "I love your moles; especially this one, right here." As her tongue grazed his ear, he felt like every pore in his body dilated with a lightning jolt.

"There. In addition to kissing, I have now sucked your earlobe—something I'll never do to Sam." She traced her finger down his chest, lingering on the moles—his many, many moles. "I love this mole." Then she kissed it. "And this one." Kissed that one. "Oooh, and this large one, especially." He stiffened as he felt her tongue on his skin.

"Finn Hudson. Are you going to just lie there, or are you going to roll on top of me?"

Wondering if his eyebrow would be stuck quirked up there after being frozen there the whole time, Finn said, "Okay," but it came out pretty inaudible.

Then, he was on top of her. His whole body tingled as he felt all of her underneath him. Her smooth skin against his dry, white scales. Their pelvises touching, barer than they'd ever been.

Then, it started. He felt it rise up his spine. His eyes squeezed shut as he felt his mouth open inexorably into a wide O. This was it. Rachel was going to scream and jump from under him, sobbing in horror at the. He just knew it.

"Kiss me back, Finn," she commanded.

He obeyed, and their mouths awkwardly circled one another and eventually met when he felt himself gain control. Rachel was a damned miracle worker. First of all, he loved that she didn't yell at him or blanch when his problem came about like Quinn did. She was bonafiably scared of it, and she got … indignant. It hurt Finn more than he liked to admit.

Then he met Rachel, and she seemed there to be the bane of his existence—how easily she would make him … cinco de mayo. But she blamed herself. He didn't know how the hell she arrived at that conclusion, but she didn't blame him. When they started dating, she developed a secret smile when he would have almost mailman moments. A legit smile. She didn't get scared or mad. She didn't yell, "Think of the mail!"

But this was too much. He thought, for sure, she'd swat at him with her tiny fists for him to get up from on top of her. "Think of the mail! Think of the mail!"

But she had a thing. She would give him simple commands—sit up, lie down, kiss me back—and his dick lost its tyranny over him. He felt free to just … enjoy. He didn't burn with shame. And he still felt awesome. God, he loved this girl.