[He stares. NYADA is something significant. He knows that much, even if he doesn't know specifically what it is. But any kind of rejection for Rachel is on par with the bombing of Hiroshima or the way he felt when he was eight and he found out that Kurt Cobain was dead or even the momentary panic that had hit him that night at Quinn's house after Cheerios practice when he'd realized he was out of condoms and just banged her bareback and two months later found out Finn he was going to be a daddy. Whatever NYADA is, this is huge. Her presence here makes sense now. Fuck, he'd shown up at Santana's house, wild-eyed and nearly crawling out of his skin, the night he'd signed the papers to give Beth up for adoption; he'd done the same thing, needing to just stop feeling. He gets it. He gets it more than he can explain.]
[Without answering - without answering with words - he takes another step until his crossed arms are nearly touching hers. He can see the lace of her bra and his arms uncross. He hesitates, first glancing quickly toward his bedroom door, which is closed, the lock snapped - Good, he thinks to himself - before reaching out toward her, long fingers wrapping around her upper arms and sliding down their lengths to tangle with her fingers and tug her closer.] Kiss me. [He demands roughly.] If we do this, we do this. Gonna make this so fucking good for you. [He draws his mouth close to hers, his lips barely brushing over her cheek, his lids low over his eyes as he leans in and tugs her closer. She's dressed for this, having planned this; he wears jeans and a t-shirt, commando as (almost) always, and his Puckasaurus Sex is in the game. Regardless, he presses his body against hers, gentlygently, waiting for her to show him that she's ready and that she wants this. Come on, babe, he mentally begs. Make the first move. Kiss me. Let me show you.]
no subject
Finnhe was going to be a daddy. Whatever NYADA is, this is huge. Her presence here makes sense now. Fuck, he'd shown up at Santana's house, wild-eyed and nearly crawling out of his skin, the night he'd signed the papers to give Beth up for adoption; he'd done the same thing, needing to just stop feeling. He gets it. He gets it more than he can explain.][Without answering - without answering with words - he takes another step until his crossed arms are nearly touching hers. He can see the lace of her bra and his arms uncross. He hesitates, first glancing quickly toward his bedroom door, which is closed, the lock snapped - Good, he thinks to himself - before reaching out toward her, long fingers wrapping around her upper arms and sliding down their lengths to tangle with her fingers and tug her closer.] Kiss me. [He demands roughly.] If we do this, we do this. Gonna make this so fucking good for you. [He draws his mouth close to hers, his lips barely brushing over her cheek, his lids low over his eyes as he leans in and tugs her closer. She's dressed for this, having planned this; he wears jeans and a t-shirt, commando as (almost) always, and his Puckasaurus Sex is in the game. Regardless, he presses his body against hers, gentlygently, waiting for her to show him that she's ready and that she wants this. Come on, babe, he mentally begs. Make the first move. Kiss me. Let me show you.]