Writing Class

Finn slides his hand underneath her shirt, stroking her back. His fingers move down to the waistband of her PJ pants, sliding a few just underneath the elastic. She feels like she’s overheating. The air surrounding them seems to jump ten degrees.

She tastes peppermint mouthwash and vaguely remembers that she didn’t brush her teeth. Normally that would be something that would worry her, but she couldn’t care less right this moment. It’s apparent that Finn could care even less.

She’s so pleased with herself. Not only with taking the initiative, but with the very high success rate she’s pulling. Finn has no qualms with her feeling the affect that she has on him. In fact, he’s encouraging it.

His tongue tickles the roof of her mouth and she can’t help but giggle. He pulls away, smiling brilliantly and lightly kisses the tip of her nose. Miranda closes her eyes, smiling softly, and sighs. His lips brush against her cheek. He takes his time and lightly kisses her eyelids, up to her forehead.

“So beautiful,” Finn whispers, moving down to kiss along her jaw. She digs her fingers into his shoulders, tilting her head slightly to give him better access.

Finn takes her hands in his before slowly sitting down on the bed. She looks down at him and she never even thinks about her next move. His fingers squeeze hers reassuringly and he smiles warmly. Wanting to shock him, or at least surprise him a little, she smiles slyly and slowly straddles his thighs. The mattress gives underneath her knees, causing her to sink down lower. She feels slightly unstable, her knees teetering on the edge of the mattress. He slides his butt farther back, giving her more room. She smiles in appreciation and takes the room offered before sitting back on his legs.

He sits up straighter, resting his hands on her hips. He doesn’t push her closer, doesn’t demand anything. She’s never felt this comfortable with anyone. She knows that no matter what she did, or how badly she made a fool of herself, he’d still be there to support her. He may not be able to hold back a quip or two, but it wouldn’t be out of malice. Besides, she’d do the same. Neither one of them can miss a prime opportunity to mock the other.

Miranda leans forward to softly kiss his upper lip. He didn’t shave when he took a shower and the short hairs prickle her lips. She doesn’t mind. She doesn’t think she’d mind anything right now. Besides, Finn pulls off the ‘too lazy to shave’ look with ease.

He suddenly moans against her mouth and she pulls back slightly, wondering as to the cause.

“What?” She’s surprised with how low and husky her own voice sounds.

Without answering, he bucks his hips up against her. Very quickly she understands that at some point she had moved a lot closer to him and was pressed down against him. She doesn’t even remember doing it. The feeling of him underneath her is a rush. The undeniable power that she has over him erases any feelings of apprehension she may have had.

With a tiny smirk, she presses down and wiggles her hips from side to side. Every little reaction fascinates her, and she’s very pleased to see him throw his head back. His fingers press into her hips hard enough that she’s sure she’ll have a bruise in the morning. When she tries to move, he holds her still against him. Instead of moving, she contents herself with kissing along his collarbone. His chest is heaving with his heavy breathing and she can’t wipe the smile from her face.

She laughs against his neck and his breathing stops for a moment. The next thing she knows, he’s flipped her over to lay on her back. He lays on his side next to her, one leg thrown over hers. Her laughter dies in her throat when he trails a finger between her breasts over the tented shirt. By the look on his face, he’s utterly pleased with himself.

“Slide your hands underneath your butt.”

“What?”

He doesn’t answer, knowing that he doesn’t need to say it again. With a wary look, she hesitantly slides both hands under her butt and stays like that. He kisses her softly and pulls away before she can return the gesture.

“Now don’t move.” His voice is hoarse, like he’s been screaming for hours and his voice is finally dying. She bites her lip, already finding it hard to do as she was told. Just the fact that he wants her to stay still makes her really want to move around. She thinks that he had to have known that and therefore just wanted to make it even more difficult for her.

He moves back a few inches, distancing himself just far enough away where his body isn’t touching hers.

“Tilt your head back,” his voice is soft, making it clear that it’s a request and not a demand. She willing tilts her head back, allowing him to trail his fingers slowly down her neck. He’s barely touching her and at times his finger breaks contact. She almost holds her breath when his fingers pass over her breasts. He doesn’t touch her, but she can feel the heat from his hand when he slowly passes his palm over them. His fingers resume contact on her stomach as he runs them along the hem of the shirt. Every time he passes over it, he pushes it up a little more. Soon her belly button is naked and he circles a finger around the sensitive area.

She’s beginning to find that keeping herself still is absolute torture. Not being able to touch him while he’s slowly driving her insane is just mean. She has a feeling that it’s just punishment for before. Honestly, she knows that he wouldn’t have a problem with her tossing his ‘stay still’ request and giving back, but she wants to know for how long he plans on doing this.

Her whole body feels extremely warm and she can’t stop her tummy from shaking. The more she tries, the worse it gets. His fingers begin to tickle along the waist band of her PJ pants, teasing her softly. He slips a few fingers underneath the elastic for only a brief moment before moving elsewhere. He slides his fingers down over her thighs, never coming too close to her inner thighs. He moves down to her knees and than to her calves. She bends her knees making it easier for him to reach her calves.

He doesn’t reprimand her for moving, he instead just takes advantage. His hand slides up her pant leg, massaging her calf, before doing the same to her other leg. Her hands begin to feel numb from the lack of movement. She can feel them begin to tingle.

“My hands died,” she says softly. She can’t take the tingling any longer.

“Here,” he sits up, holding his hands out. She lifts her butt slightly to pull her hands out from underneath and sets her hands in his. He softly massages her hands, running his fingers down her palms and out to her finger tips. Slowly, she begins to regain feeling but she doesn’t tell him that. Her eyes skim over his naked torso and she doesn’t think she’s ever seen anything so perfect.

He’s not overly built, he’s real. She loves the way his stomach actually looks normal when he leans over. It’s just impossible for someone to have a stomach so flat that it stays flat even while that person is leaning forward. If it is possible, that person would freak the hell out of Miranda. She’s never worried too much about her body. She loves her curves and is glad that she has them. She’d just look strange if she were thinner.

“Thanks,” she says. Pulling a hand from his grasp, she reaches up to smooth a finger over his eyebrow, not really having a reason.

He pulls her other hand to his mouth, kissing her palm with a smile, “Do you have a birthmark?”

“Yeah,” she says with a laugh, “You?”

“I don’t. Where’s yours?”

“My thigh.”

“Oh really?” With a hand, he tauntingly begins dragging her pant leg up her calf.

“Yes, but you won’t see it like that,” she says, jerking her leg away from him with a laugh.

“It’s on the back of my thigh.”

Nodding his head, he asks innocently, “Can I see?”

“Let’s save that for another day.”

Finn laughs in response and lays down flat on his back, folding his hands underneath his head. Miranda is amazed with how quickly the mood has shifted away from where it was headed. She doesn’t mind. Now thinking rationally, she’s glad and relieved that Finn lightened the mood. She doesn’t realistically think that she’s ready for where she’s sure it was heading.

Miranda relaxes into the mattress and shuts her eyes. A few minutes pass by with nothing but the sound of breathing to fill her ears.

She whispers Finn’s name and gets no response. Opening her eyes, she looks over at him. She smiles softly when she sees him sleeping. He looks so vulnerable like this. She’s shocked with how quickly he was able to just fall asleep. Making use of one of his pillows, she sets out to follow in Finn’s footsteps.

----

Miranda is woken by the sound of loud music. Groaning, she throws an arm over to shield her eyes from the light filtering in the room. She carelessly rolls over onto her stomach in a way to block out the noise and light.

After a few seconds, she lifts her head and looks around. The music obviously isn’t being shut off any time soon and she finds it pointless to try and sleep through it. Hauling herself up from the bed, she stumbles out of the bedroom rubbing her eyes. Almost taking a detour into the wall, she manages to make it down the hall and into the living room. She glares at the back of the musical culprit who’s responsible for the very loud, not to mention chipper, “Would It Be Nice?”.

“Is there a reason why I was woken by The Beach Boys?” she mumbles unhappily. When Finn doesn’t acknowledge her question and disappears into the kitchen, she realizes that he probably can’t hear her over Brian Wilson.

She stomps into the kitchen, clearly intending on scolding Finn for her rude awakening. The second she sees him and what he’s doing, she can’t think of any harsh words to scold with. He’s cooking eggs and singing along under his breath. Toast pops up in the toaster, making Miranda jump slightly. Finn turns around and gives her a wide smile.

“Good morning beautiful.”

She stares at him blankly, revulsion apparent, “You’re a morning person.”

---

Miranda can’t help but stare at him as if he were a science experiment gone horribly wrong. She’s sitting at the kitchen table eating and warily watching him eat as well. He got a little carried away with breakfast. He said that he didn’t know what she liked, so he made a little of everything. Eggs, pancakes, waffles, toast, bacon, sausage, fruit, he even made hash-browns. She’s not complaining, she loves breakfast foods, but he’s eerily chipper and it makes her nauseous.

“Where did you get all this? I’ve seen your refrigerator and I know that it didn’t have an entire breakfast resource center hidden inside.”

“I ran to the store after I woke up.”

“You didn’t have to make all this Finn, I would have been happy with cereal,” Miranda insists even though she’s extremely flattered that he actually went to the store to get all this for her.

“Don’t get cocky Rand,” he warns, pointing his fork at her.

“Apologies,” she says flatly.

Finn pushes his chair back and stands up, “Bathroom break.”

Miranda smirks and watches him walk towards the hallway. Before he can disappear, she quotes, “Don\'t forget to zip up your fly. If you don\'t zip up your fly, a seagull will get you.”

“Thanks Mama Death,” he throws her without looking back.

---

After breakfast, Miranda got dressed in her clothes from the night before and sat down to watch some TV with Finn. Daytime television leaves something to be desired and they end up watching \"Days Of Our Lives\".

Finn comes back from getting a drink and sits down, “Why’s he screaming?”

“Ummm, apparently he still feels the amputated leg,” Miranda supplies with a laugh.

Finn nods his head, a serious expression on his face. “What I want to know is how he managed to escape with a few scratches on his face while he lost a leg at the same time.”

“You can’t fuck up a soap star’s face too much, that’s what they rely on.”

“And the girl with the mummy wrap,” Finn points out.

“Yes but she’s still gorgeous. I don’t think I’d bother with the makeup if I was horrifically scarred.”

“True.”

“Okay ready?” Miranda asks, pointing the remote at the screen.

Finn settles himself comfortably, resting his elbows on his knees and leaning forward, “Ready.”

She presses the mute button and they continue with their own version of what’s being said.

“We’re through. I want someone else,” Finn says at a whiny cheerleader pitch.

Miranda almost laughs but manages to keep it contained, “It’s because I’m blind isn’t it? Or is it the ovaries?”

---

AN: Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed. I\'m sorry for the delay. I\'ve been so busy lately. My best friend gave birth to her gorgeous baby boy Aiden on the 15th, so I\'ve been busy playing my Aunt role. This chapter is more of a filler, a ramp to bring in the next one. I know what\'s happening and I already have it mostly written. I wrote it a while ago but ended up not using it and going the direction of the club and introduction to Finn\'s friends. Thankfully it worked out. I\'ll need to go through it and make the much needed changed, but I hope to have it ready soon. Especially since this chapter is somewhat short for me. Thank you again for all the kind words, they make me happy. Hope everyone enjoys and keep reviewing!