A/N: Finally, it is done. After many issues, I switched prompts and voila - I have finally fulfilled the haze fic requirement to consider myself a Fildo. I hope you dirty, seriously awesome ladies (and dudes) love it and are proud to call me one of your own. Especially thanks to wants2beawriter (Jen) for her hand-holding all the way through my failed attempt AND this one. There is a long list of people I owe thanks to for their help with this whole process though. Paceismyhero, wood-u-like-2-no, iGoToExtremes, tjcrowfoot, egyouppt, ladidai... I know I'm missing several of you. But seriously, thanks.

Prompts: stripper!Finn and stripper!Rachel. I accidentally filled two because they go together.

Songs: Pink and Rag Doll both by Aerosmith.

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, Aerosmith, these songs, the chair, or anything really. No harm is intended and I'd like to think I just left it better than when I found it.

The Love You Discover

She never thought she would be nervous about something like this, but she totally is. There was only ever one thing or one person who could actually make her nervous (and those days are long in the past), so this is a first for her. Just when she thought most of her firsts were, fortunately, behind her.

Then again, maybe it's a good thing if she's nervous about slowly removing her clothes in front of a room—a theater—full of people. She's starting to wonder what kind of exposure makes it worth starring in this student production. She's also starting to wonder if inviting her boyfriend along to the audition for moral support was really the best idea. He seemed uncertain but he flat-out admitted there was nothing he could deny her and he would both go along and keep his mouth shut. He promised not to get mad and not to be mad so she agreed to audition.

And now she actually has to do it. Tomorrow.

She's been studying her reflection thoroughly in the small mirror atop her vanity desk for some time, trying to work up the courage to even practice her audition piece. She's never been so afraid to even practice before; and she isn't sure how she can ask him for help, like normal, because it's just so mortifying.

She can hear him moving through the common area of the small apartment before he knocks on her open bedroom door with a soft rhythm. She looks up at him through the reflection of the mirror and doesn't even drop her hands from the chair back they've been resting on.

"Hey," he says softly. He comes in and turns to shut the door before she even blinks. Once he turns back around, he looks almost worried.

"Are you still worrying about this?"

She sighs and finally turns around. "Sort of. This is a big deal, Finn."

He just nods and crosses her room in four easy steps before he runs his hands down her bare arms. She purposely shut all the air vents in her room this morning, thinking it would be easier to practice if the room wasn't freezing, but the side effect is that it's almost a little too hot. "I know it's a big deal, and I think I can help you."

She tilts her head. "How can you help me without distracting me?"

He kisses her forehead and pulls away enough to reach for her open laptop. She'd already pulled up a playlist for her practice, but she hasn't had the courage to actually start a song.

"Well, I'm just not as sexy as you so I don't think the distraction will be a problem," he says simply as he begins scanning through her long list of songs. Separate playlists stopped working for them and she's sure at least two-thirds of her admittedly massive song library was his to begin with. And she has no idea what he's looking for because really, it could be anything. "But I'm pretty sure if I can do this, anyone can." He flips his head toward the end of her bed. "Have a seat."

"Finn…"

The song starts up and she raises an eyebrow. He put this in her iTunes? She can't help it, though. When he gives her that look, the one brokering no argument, she just goes along with it. And it's safe to say she's never been disappointed.

Once she's seated, he moves a little closer to her and he's lip syncing to the song. She buries her face in her hands because he's just so playful and she hasn't seen him cheesing it up like this since they were in Glee together.

Pink, it's my new obsession. Yeah, pink, it's not even a question. Pink on the lips of your lover … 'cause pink is the love you discover.

He gently pulls her hands away from her face, which undoubtedly matches the color he keeps referencing. He tucks them into her lap and then steps away from her. The room isn't huge so he can't go too far but it's far enough. He turns around and bends down so he's seriously shaking his ass in her face. His jeans aren't tight and she fights the urge to laugh because she gets it. He isn't trying to be serious. He's trying to lighten her up.

He stands up and raises his hands above his head, rocking back and forth in time with song and still facing away so she can see his thighs moving when he taps his feet. She can actually hear him singing along and she vaguely kind of hopes her roommates aren't home.

Pink, it's the color of passion…'cause today it just goes with the fashion.

He shakes his head as he lets out a yell that could rival the lead singer's and he's lifting up his shirt and walking toward her now, still singing.

Pink it was love at first sight, yeah, pink when I turn out the light. Pink gets me high as a kite…and I think everything is going to be all right, no matter what we do tonight.

He grabs the hem of his shirt as he walks, taking really small steps and moving his sneakers along the hardwood floor in time with the music, the closest to dancing he really ever gets. He dances his polo shirt up over his stomach as he keeps singing along. The shirt gets stuck on his chin, though, and he has to reach his fingers up into the neck to undo two buttons before he can get it off over his head. He stands before her, topless, still taking small steps and still singing, laughing at his mistake even as he continues. She can't help it; she's tapping her foot, too. And she's smiling.

He slides to his knees and he rubs his hands over her legs, shifting her skirt a little, as he says the next words and she's pretty sure she's back to wanting to die.

It's kink, but you don't ever tell her.

He tips his head back to yell the "yeah" in time with the lyrics and, with only a small stumble, he's back on his feet and backing away from her again, reaching for the belt holding up his loose jeans. She watches him but it's a little different now because...he might not think he's hot. But she does, even after almost four years together, and he's standing in front of her half-naked and he's willingly embarrassing himself and embarrassing her and he's just…he's hot and he's sweet and he's perfect.

And the backbeat of the song is not helping because he keeps moving his hips and all she can think about is what it feels like when he's doing that while he's inside her. When she's on top of him. She might be a prude in public, but behind closed doors and in front of him is another story.

Pink, it was love at first sight yeah and pink when I turn out the light. Yeah, pink gets me high as a kite. And I think everything is going to be all right, no matter what we do tonight.

He looks at her as he sings the last line and his eyes are soft… and she just loves him. That's all there is to it. While she's watching his eyes, his jeans land on the ground with an unceremonious thump, dragged by the weight of his wallet and the belt he finishes undoing.

He kicks off his shoes and brushes them out of the way with his foot, tripping a little bit and then his sock making his foot slide, but he's in his boxers and socks and standing tall right in front of her as he sings along with the next words. His eyes say he means it and she can tell by the way his chest is a little flushed exactly what they'll be doing tonight.

I want to be your lover. I, I wanna wrap you in rubber.

He's singing softly as he pulls her up off the bed, letting his eyes dance over her face and holding her close to his chest.

As pink as the sheets that we lay on, 'cause pink is my favorite crayon. Yeah, pink it was love at first sight.

He leans forward a little and kisses her, then starts moving them back to the bed. He turns them both so they drop beside each other, and when the kiss breaks away he finishes singing.

And I think everything is going to be all right, no matter what we do tonight.

He pulls away from the kiss and his fingers trip up her arm again. "There's only one problem with this where I'm the stripper and you aren't," he says, leaning forward to kiss her again. Her hand lands on his bare chest and she knows it's a little too warm for him in here because he's already sweating just from the little bit of dancing and goofing around.

"What's that? I see no problem with this. They'd give you the part for sure," she breathes, her finger drawing a random pattern on his sticky skin.

"You still have all your clothes on," he says, his voice a little lower. He kisses her again and she inhales sharply into the kiss before she hooks her leg over his.

"Well maybe I should fix that. The whole point of this was practice," she whispers against his lips. The next song is playing by now and it's got a loud enough beat at least she can shake her hips and try hiding her embarrassment that way.

He pulls back from her and raises his eyebrow, the side of his mouth going up in a sly grin like maybe the eyebrow and his mouth are connected. "Don't let me distract you then," he says easily. He rolls over as she pulls away and he drags himself backwards on the bed, propping himself up against the headboard to watch her.

She backs down the bed, keeping her eyes on him.

Maybe she can get through this audition. Maybe she can do it, as long as he's there and he's watching her like she's watching him right now. Maybe he is helping her. It isn't that she's shy about her body; she works hard to keep herself conditioned. And she certainly isn't shy about feeling attractive when he's around. It's the process she isn't certain of. But he's helped her feel beautiful more than once when she questioned it before—so maybe he can help her feel okay about all of this.

Her feet hit the ground and she can't help it if her shoulders start moving. It's the song, really. And since the song is talking about a slutty girl, she figures it might be a good persona to try on. Besides, the guy in front of her? Well, he's seen all her moves. At the very least, she doesn't have to be embarrassed. And maybe what he thinks is sexy is kind of universal.

I'm feeling like a bad boy, mmm just like a bad boy. I'm ripping up a rag doll, like throwing away an old toy…

She lets her hands drift up into her hair to pull it away from her damp neck, only a little hesitant to let it fall back down. She smiles at him as he's watching her; his eyes make her feel about a hundred times sexier. Her hips are shaking in time with the song, bouncing her skirt easily. She uses the motion to slide her panties down her legs easily, leaving her skirt in place. She sees him swallow, watching his Adam's apple bob with the movement and suddenly, she has an idea.

As the beat relaxes a little, she moves quickly to pull the chair out from her vanity, rolling it easily to the middle of the floor and sitting down on it, straddling the armless seat and feeling the chair bounce a little with her movement. She throws her head back, letting her hair toss over the seat and she runs her hands down her neck, all the way down the front of her body to the hem of her shirt. She brings her head back up, feeling her hair fall down wherever it lands and she looks at him. He's watching her intently and he's not smiling anymore.

She won't even say anything about the hand he's tucked into the front of his shorts.

She pulls her black tank top off, the fabric the only thing impeding her view of his hot gaze and it's only for a minute. As long as she keeps her eyes on him, and he's looking at her like that, she's pretty confident she can actually do this. If all the heat from his gaze doesn't somehow start her up even more before she gets too far.

Old Tin Lizzy, do it 'til you're dizzy – give it all ya got 'til you're put out of your misery…

She stands, running around the back of the chair and keeping her eyes on him even as she does a quick little turn. She uses the back of the chair for leverage to dip down and she rocks her hips back and forth as she stands up slowly, running her hands up her legs and over her hips. She knows she flashes him before her skirt drops back down to where it was and as her hands hit her hair again, he's looking at her like she's his fantasy come to life.

She wonders if she should make sure he's still breathing because he's certainly not moving.

She twirls around, looking over her shoulder just to see his reaction as she swivels her hips before she flips her hands behind her to unclasp her bra. She brings her hands together in front of her so it slides down her arms before she catches it in her fingertips and throws it over her shoulder at him, biting her lip as he totally fails to catch it even though it hits him in the face.

She contemplates taking her skirt off, lets her hands flirt with the waist, but ultimately she decides not to.

Yes, I'm moving, yes I'm moving… gettin' ready for the big time – getting crazy on the moonshine.

She walks over to him, one foot in front of the other in almost a straight line, and his eyes drag from her naked chest all the way up her body.

"You definitely win," he says. His voice is low and rough and she barely recognizes it.

She bites her lip and her eyes look over his flushed face. It's quite hot in the room, but she almost doesn't care. It's not like any amount of air will help her when he's looking at her like that.

"I think I feel better about doing this audition," she admits as she climbs on top of him and plucks her bra away from his chest to toss it on the floor.

"I don't…I don't think you should do it," he chokes out. He leans up to kiss her but she pulls back. His fingertips sink into her butt to hold her where she's perched over his lap.

She tilts her head.

"You're just… you're too hot."

Her smile spreads and she dips down to press her bare chest against his. "You know by now that's only for you. I'll just…I'll figure something out for the audition that doesn't involve flashing."

He nips at her lips and as she settles down, she can feel just how hard he is. Just from kissing her and watching her and…she gets it. He doesn't want her to turn another guy on.

But doesn't he know another guy wouldn't help her confront her worry the way he did? Does he realize how sexy that is? She probably ought to show him. So she rolls her hips against him in time with the song as its coming to an end. He lets out a groan and his short little love bites turn into him pressing his tongue into her mouth and thrusting it against hers until she wraps her lips around it and sucks. His hands tighten, pushing her hips down to create more pressure where he's rubbing up against her as they keep kissing deeply.

She finally pulls away from him long enough to trail a kiss down his chest. The air in the room is heady and thick now, never more so than when she can feel and taste how hot he is. His skin is pink and she remembers the song he was dancing to just a few minutes ago.

Pink is the color of passion, and this shade of pink—the one he wears—is her favorite. He is still breathing, the motion labored, and he tucks his hand into her hair as her chin rubs against the elastic waistband of his boxers. Just seconds later, she's tugging on them. He's slow to respond, but eventually he rolls his hips up away from her bed just long enough she can slide the underwear over his legs. She tosses them aside before she turns her head back to where it was before. She dips her tongue into his belly button and his legs slide against the sides of her body as he wiggles a little bit.

He's kind of always hated it when she teases him. It used to be lack of control, but now it's just lack of patience. Sex is really the only thing he's ever urgent about. So she settles for teasing just a little and draws a wet trail from his bellybutton down, not lingering until she laps all the way around the bottom and trailed back up. Her second lap is slower and his groan a little louder when she dips her tongue in belly button again. This time, she drags her whole body back up his chest, letting her fingers dig into his sides as she goes.

He rolls them over as soon as she stops moving and she looks up at him with a smile before she wraps her legs tightly around his waist and he just dives into her. This is what they're familiar with and what they don't need to practice any more. This is what they know how to do.

He brings a hand up to rub at her breast, gently tugging on her nipple with his fingertips for a second before he drops his hands back to her hips to grip tightly before he ducks his head to kiss her soundly. He only pulls away from the kiss entirely to slide down her body. Her legs are still wrapped around him as he goes, stopping only when her knees are hooked over his shoulders and again, he dives right in.

His tongue is relentless against her wet skin, tracing patterns that practice has proven will make her come undone just as quickly as he wants her to. They know this particular dance well but she doesn't even have time to think about how much she loves it all before his mouth is moving to a new rhythm and her legs are moving with him, her thighs pressing into his face as he hums a little against her center.

She calls out and her hips try to roll off the bed but he doesn't let her, he holds her down and that last little bit of pressure is all it takes to send her body flying. She tosses her head back as his tongue beats against her before, with one last, soft suck, he lets her go. He's barely disconnected from her before he's kissing her eagerly. She flips them again and straddles his lap, pulling one hand away from his cheek to position him, harder than ever, right at her entrance before she slides her knees forward and sinks down over to him.

She's still tight, still coming down from the feel of his mouth, and he drops his head forward onto her shoulder before he takes a deep breath before he gives his hips a quick flick. She hasn't pulled back at all, and all his movement accomplishes is he grinds against her and her body gives a throb from the inside that's somewhere between pain and pleasure. She tosses her head back and he turns his just enough to press a wet, sloppy kiss to her neck, sucking at her pulse point. She gasps and he twists his fingers in her damp hair as they start rolling together in time.

He lets out this sound she's never heard before and she feels her smile start, but before it can get too far she's coming harder than ever before while he's moving his tongue in her ear in tandem to the way he's moving inside her. She can feel him everywhere and all she can do as her body lets go is cling to him, driving him deeper inside her and sending her over the edge again. She can't even call his name.

He crushes her against his chest, still rubbing his skin against her tight nipples with the friction and it's that feeling that soothes her sweaty body just enough she feels him go over. He buries his face against her neck and mutters something she can't understand, barely breathing even as he's shaking and holding onto her desperately.

His hold relaxes eventually and they drop down to the bed, their legs still intertwined and their breathing ragged. He presses his forehead against hers and swallows hard a couple of times before he drags his eyes open.

"Now….what were you worried about?" He asks.

She laughs softly, the sound still breathless because she's still catching up. "Well, now I'm worried about jumping you at my audition."

His laugh is steadier and he gives her a small kiss. "I didn't know it was that kind of a show."

"It isn't—thus the problem," she says. Her voice is returning to normal, even if her hands are still dancing over his arms and chest. "I think I'm going to just wear a bathing suit under my clothes."

"Can I pick which one?" He asks.

She knows which one he's picturing. It's a tankini; he complains about it covering her stomach too much every time they go swimming.

"Maybe I should model the contenders for you," she says, a sly grin resting on her mouth as he nods.

"Maybe you should," he agrees. "Just remember—pink is my new favorite color."

Before she can even get to the drawer in her closet where the swimsuits stay, before she can even get off the bed, really—they're at it again. After all, no one was ever hurt by more practice. And she thinks she may need to practice the stripping thing at least one more time before her audition. Just to make sure she's comfortable.