Entry tags:
Fic: It was strange glue that held us together (Finn/Brittany)
TITLE: It was strange glue that held us together
AUTHOR:
the_girl_20
FANDOM: Glee
PAIRING: Finn/Brittany
SUMMARY: Duckizzle do crafts with Terri
RATING: PG-13
WORD COUNT: ~1300
DISCLAIMER: Don't own 'em. They're Ryan Murphy's.
SPOILERS: Nothing explicit.
AUTHORS' NOTES: Written because
anomalousalanna kept bugging me.
Finn glances to the side. Brittany looks kinda confused. But hot. And confused. He squeezes the hand he’s holding.
“Hey, is this too weird?” he asks, his eyebrows drawing together in concern.
Maybe it is weird to take your new girlfriend on a date which involves going to the house of your Spanish teacher to do crafts with his wife. It had seemed a good idea at the time. Especially when Brittany had mentioned her love of glitter and cutting things. Now, standing outside Mr Schue’s door, it does seem kinda weird.
“No, it’s fine,” she says, her expression not changing. “I’ve been to teachers’ houses on dates before.”
He decides to leave that one alone.
“And once to the janitor’s house.”
And he’s definitely not touching that one. Luckily the door opens to reveal Mrs Schuester smiling widely at them. Mrs Schuester makes Finn feel kinda funny. Like, she’s kinda old, but not like the ladies that come to his mom’s book group. She’s not like them at all. She wears tops that show off her boobs and she has really nice hair. Ever since she was the nurse at school he finds himself thinking about her sometimes. Once, he had a dream where she wanted to take his temperature, but she didn’t want to put the thermometer in his mouth. He shifts uncomfortably in his pants, thankful that his sweater is long and baggy.
“Hey kids, come on in,” Mrs Schuster says, stepping aside.
It’s only when they’re in the hallway that he realises how teeny she is, because her head is tipped back to look up at both of them.
“Do you want some lemonade before we get started?” Mrs Schuster asks, then she leans in a little closer. “I’d offer you a beer but Will probably wouldn’t approve.”
“Lemonade would be nice,” Finn says, thinking that Mrs Schue just got ever cooler.
“Is it diet?” Brittany pipes up. “Coach Sylvester’ll kill me if I put on weight this week, and I already ate an M&M I found in the hood of my jacket.”
Mrs S looks kinda grossed out by that but she shrugs.
“We have diet soda, honey,” she says. “You guys take off your coats and I’ll go get the drinks and then we can head into the craft room.”
She wanders off down the hallway, just as Mr Schue comes out of the living room.
“Oh, hey guys!” he greets them eagerly, clapping Finn on the back.
Finn thinks it’s kinda nice that Mr Schue seems to want to be a father figure to him. Puck thinks Mr S is hot for Finn, but Finn’s pretty sure he’s not. That one time he patted him on the ass was an accident and he'd apologised. Anyway, Mr Schue is married to Mrs Schue, so he can’t be gay.
“Ciao Mr Schue,” Brittany says, happily.
“Uh...¡Hola!, Britt,” Mr S says, nodding at Brittany, like he really wants her to get it. “So, are you guys excited for your craft date with Terri?”
“We sure are, Mr S,” Finn says, while Brittany twirls her hair around her finger and looks up at the ceiling.
Finn sighs. Maybe he should’ve taken her bowling. Rachel really seemed to dig bowling. And he thinks Brittany would probably suck less than Rachel, with her being sporty and all.
“Well, that’s great,” Mr Schue says, shrugging into a leather jacket. “I’m heading out for a while, so be good, okay?”
“Of course they’ll be good, Will,” Mrs S says, coming back into the hallway carrying a tray of drinks. “They’re the nice ones.”
Mr S looks at his wife with a kinda dopey smile and Finn can’t help but smile too, because they look like they’re still really into each other. He hopes he has someone like Mrs S when he’s old like Mr S.
“You be good too,” Mr S warns, leaning in to press a kiss against her forehead.
“Oh, I’ll try,” she replies, rolling her eyes at him.
After he’s gone, she smiles at them.
“Okay, let’s do some crafts.”
*
It’s been going pretty well. Brittany seems really happy with the duck thing they’re making. (He’s not really sure what the point of a duck made out of a toilet roll tube is, but it makes Brittany smile so it’s cool.) He’s having a little trouble getting the wings in the right position on his duck, it’s a little awkward to hold the duck and point the glue-gun at the same time. Especially with his big hands.
Mrs S comes around the table and leans over to look at his work. He’s not sure what possesses him to do it, but he leans forward and smells her hair. It smells like soap and pie. Then, before he knows what’s happening, the glue-gun is shooting a ribbon of glue into the air. It sails clean across the room and splatters on the wall, dripping down.
“Oh, jeez, Mrs S...I didn’t mean to...” he stutters, looking from Mrs Schue’s raised eyebrow, down to the glue-gun in his hands. “It just...went off.”
She sighs, eyeing the gloopy mess on her wall.
“It’s okay, honey, it happens,” she says. “I’ll get some tissues.”
When she leaves the room, Brittany is looking at him with a smile.
“What?” he asks, looking down to make sure none of the glue got on him.
“Did you just sniff Mrs Schue’s hair?” she asks.
“What? No!” he says, his eyes darting around the room, a blush dappling his cheeks.
“It’s okay if you did. She’s kinda hot for a mom-aged lady,” Brittany says, sprinkling some green glitter on her duck’s back and shaking off the excess.
Finn smiles.
“You’re a really awesome girlfriend, you know that?” he says, unable to help himself.
“Sure,” she nods. “I get told that a lot.”
Out of nowhere, Finn finds himself thinking that maybe he’ll be the last person to ever tell her that. Because maybe they’ll be together forever and have cute babies and dog and a picket fence. He’s not really sure what a picket is, but people seem to want them, so he figures he should try and give Brittany one.
She holds up her toilet roll tube duck.
“Quack.”
*
Later, they’re in his car and they’re making out and it’s cool. Quinn never really let him touch her anyplace except on her back. Brittany actually puts his hands on her boobs herself. He closes his eyes as they kiss, letting his mind wander off into his fantasy bank.
“Finn?” she whispers against his lips.
“Uh huh?” he asks, eyes still closed, one hand on her ass, the other on her right boob.
“Are you thinking about Mrs Schue right now?”
His eyes shoot open and he takes his hands off her, shoving them under his thighs and bowing his head.
“I...”
“Finn, it’s cool,” she tells him.
He risks a glance over at her and his jaw drops as she reaches down and pulls her top over her head, leaving her in just a bra.
“It...it is?” he manages, through a completely dry throat.
He squirms in his seat, his pants suddenly very constricting. She turns her body round more, facing him. Her head is down because she’s adjusting her boobs in her bra, cupping them and letting them go until she’s satisfied that they’re displayed to their best advantage. She looks back up at him, though his eyes are still trained on her chest.
“Sure it is,” she assures him. “I was thinking about her too.”
Even the mailman can’t help him this time.
AUTHOR:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
FANDOM: Glee
PAIRING: Finn/Brittany
SUMMARY: Duckizzle do crafts with Terri
RATING: PG-13
WORD COUNT: ~1300
DISCLAIMER: Don't own 'em. They're Ryan Murphy's.
SPOILERS: Nothing explicit.
AUTHORS' NOTES: Written because
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Finn glances to the side. Brittany looks kinda confused. But hot. And confused. He squeezes the hand he’s holding.
“Hey, is this too weird?” he asks, his eyebrows drawing together in concern.
Maybe it is weird to take your new girlfriend on a date which involves going to the house of your Spanish teacher to do crafts with his wife. It had seemed a good idea at the time. Especially when Brittany had mentioned her love of glitter and cutting things. Now, standing outside Mr Schue’s door, it does seem kinda weird.
“No, it’s fine,” she says, her expression not changing. “I’ve been to teachers’ houses on dates before.”
He decides to leave that one alone.
“And once to the janitor’s house.”
And he’s definitely not touching that one. Luckily the door opens to reveal Mrs Schuester smiling widely at them. Mrs Schuester makes Finn feel kinda funny. Like, she’s kinda old, but not like the ladies that come to his mom’s book group. She’s not like them at all. She wears tops that show off her boobs and she has really nice hair. Ever since she was the nurse at school he finds himself thinking about her sometimes. Once, he had a dream where she wanted to take his temperature, but she didn’t want to put the thermometer in his mouth. He shifts uncomfortably in his pants, thankful that his sweater is long and baggy.
“Hey kids, come on in,” Mrs Schuster says, stepping aside.
It’s only when they’re in the hallway that he realises how teeny she is, because her head is tipped back to look up at both of them.
“Do you want some lemonade before we get started?” Mrs Schuster asks, then she leans in a little closer. “I’d offer you a beer but Will probably wouldn’t approve.”
“Lemonade would be nice,” Finn says, thinking that Mrs Schue just got ever cooler.
“Is it diet?” Brittany pipes up. “Coach Sylvester’ll kill me if I put on weight this week, and I already ate an M&M I found in the hood of my jacket.”
Mrs S looks kinda grossed out by that but she shrugs.
“We have diet soda, honey,” she says. “You guys take off your coats and I’ll go get the drinks and then we can head into the craft room.”
She wanders off down the hallway, just as Mr Schue comes out of the living room.
“Oh, hey guys!” he greets them eagerly, clapping Finn on the back.
Finn thinks it’s kinda nice that Mr Schue seems to want to be a father figure to him. Puck thinks Mr S is hot for Finn, but Finn’s pretty sure he’s not. That one time he patted him on the ass was an accident and he'd apologised. Anyway, Mr Schue is married to Mrs Schue, so he can’t be gay.
“Ciao Mr Schue,” Brittany says, happily.
“Uh...¡Hola!, Britt,” Mr S says, nodding at Brittany, like he really wants her to get it. “So, are you guys excited for your craft date with Terri?”
“We sure are, Mr S,” Finn says, while Brittany twirls her hair around her finger and looks up at the ceiling.
Finn sighs. Maybe he should’ve taken her bowling. Rachel really seemed to dig bowling. And he thinks Brittany would probably suck less than Rachel, with her being sporty and all.
“Well, that’s great,” Mr Schue says, shrugging into a leather jacket. “I’m heading out for a while, so be good, okay?”
“Of course they’ll be good, Will,” Mrs S says, coming back into the hallway carrying a tray of drinks. “They’re the nice ones.”
Mr S looks at his wife with a kinda dopey smile and Finn can’t help but smile too, because they look like they’re still really into each other. He hopes he has someone like Mrs S when he’s old like Mr S.
“You be good too,” Mr S warns, leaning in to press a kiss against her forehead.
“Oh, I’ll try,” she replies, rolling her eyes at him.
After he’s gone, she smiles at them.
“Okay, let’s do some crafts.”
*
It’s been going pretty well. Brittany seems really happy with the duck thing they’re making. (He’s not really sure what the point of a duck made out of a toilet roll tube is, but it makes Brittany smile so it’s cool.) He’s having a little trouble getting the wings in the right position on his duck, it’s a little awkward to hold the duck and point the glue-gun at the same time. Especially with his big hands.
Mrs S comes around the table and leans over to look at his work. He’s not sure what possesses him to do it, but he leans forward and smells her hair. It smells like soap and pie. Then, before he knows what’s happening, the glue-gun is shooting a ribbon of glue into the air. It sails clean across the room and splatters on the wall, dripping down.
“Oh, jeez, Mrs S...I didn’t mean to...” he stutters, looking from Mrs Schue’s raised eyebrow, down to the glue-gun in his hands. “It just...went off.”
She sighs, eyeing the gloopy mess on her wall.
“It’s okay, honey, it happens,” she says. “I’ll get some tissues.”
When she leaves the room, Brittany is looking at him with a smile.
“What?” he asks, looking down to make sure none of the glue got on him.
“Did you just sniff Mrs Schue’s hair?” she asks.
“What? No!” he says, his eyes darting around the room, a blush dappling his cheeks.
“It’s okay if you did. She’s kinda hot for a mom-aged lady,” Brittany says, sprinkling some green glitter on her duck’s back and shaking off the excess.
Finn smiles.
“You’re a really awesome girlfriend, you know that?” he says, unable to help himself.
“Sure,” she nods. “I get told that a lot.”
Out of nowhere, Finn finds himself thinking that maybe he’ll be the last person to ever tell her that. Because maybe they’ll be together forever and have cute babies and dog and a picket fence. He’s not really sure what a picket is, but people seem to want them, so he figures he should try and give Brittany one.
She holds up her toilet roll tube duck.
“Quack.”
*
Later, they’re in his car and they’re making out and it’s cool. Quinn never really let him touch her anyplace except on her back. Brittany actually puts his hands on her boobs herself. He closes his eyes as they kiss, letting his mind wander off into his fantasy bank.
“Finn?” she whispers against his lips.
“Uh huh?” he asks, eyes still closed, one hand on her ass, the other on her right boob.
“Are you thinking about Mrs Schue right now?”
His eyes shoot open and he takes his hands off her, shoving them under his thighs and bowing his head.
“I...”
“Finn, it’s cool,” she tells him.
He risks a glance over at her and his jaw drops as she reaches down and pulls her top over her head, leaving her in just a bra.
“It...it is?” he manages, through a completely dry throat.
He squirms in his seat, his pants suddenly very constricting. She turns her body round more, facing him. Her head is down because she’s adjusting her boobs in her bra, cupping them and letting them go until she’s satisfied that they’re displayed to their best advantage. She looks back up at him, though his eyes are still trained on her chest.
“Sure it is,” she assures him. “I was thinking about her too.”
Even the mailman can’t help him this time.