The Drummer Guy
"Finn," Rachel said, climbing into bed with unusual lingerie on. "Come back to bed."
To her surprise, her husband's usual spot in the bed wasn't empty, wasn't cold; it was, in fact, rather filled and rather warm.
"Hi," the familiar man said. "Finn had to pop out for a little bit, so I took his spot. I hope you don't mind?"
"Oh, hi, Hank," Rachel said, and nuzzled into his side. "I'm very glad that you were able to make it tonight."
"I do what I can," Hank said. "Is that Victoria's Secret?"
"Nothing but the very best for Finn," Rachel said, and smiled.
"Gosh, I wish I had a girl just like you," Hank said. "Makes my nights exciting, I tell you, whenever Finn has to drop out."
"You give such nice compliments, Hank," Rachel said, blushing slightly. "You should go into business giving compliments."
"Only to Finn's girl," Hank said. "I mean, since we have such an interesting friendship after all."
Rachel clung to his waist and tangled their legs together. "Mm-hm?"
"We substitute for each other all the time!"
"Mm-hm," Rachel said, barely paying attention to him. Her mind drifted along, appreciating the warmth, since Finn had left the central heating off again. "How's your stick?"
"Good," Hank said. "I had to go up north to get it repaired though, and the lady there kept shooting me funny looks. I like my stick, though, I've had it almost since I was born. My pops used to say that he'd be surprised if he pulled on it and it'd come out of my grip."
"But Finn's held it often enough," Rachel said, perplexed.
"You think I'd bring my dearly beloved pair into high school? Sure, I'm a drummer and I was middling in popularity, but some of those jocks would break my sticks if they'd had half a chance."
His hands slipped below her waist, onto her thighs, and his callused hands began to rub slow circles. Rachel held back a shiver. "Higher," she said. "And, um, well...t-that's good to hear, that you've gotten your sticks back. Are you getting a rim job as well?"
"Yeah, they're getting replaced soon. I'll just have to remember to get the screws properly tightened, or I'll be shagged within an inch of my life. And not in a good way."
"Mm?"
"But look at me!" Hank said, laughing awkwardly. "Talking your ear off about drums when you're in bed, looking absolutely tempting."
Rachel grinned. "You're just warming my bed until my husband gets home."
Hank looked thoughtful. "There is that."
The door burst open.
"Alright, drummer dude!" Finn said loudly. "I'll take over from here!"
"It's Hank," Hank said, and got up. "Circles," he muttered.
"I know," Finn said. Hank hit him on his way out.
"Wow, Rachel," Finn said, his fingers working at the buckle and dropping his bag. "You really dressed up tonight."
"Mmhm," she said.
Finn slid into bed beside her and began rubbing circles into her shoulder.
"Lower," she said.
Finn grinned and went lower.
"Shit, I've got to go," Finn groaned the next morning. "Sorry, babe."
Rachel murmured something incoherent and pushed her face back into her pillow, not caring that her hair was a mess.
The bed creaked as Finn slid out, there was a slap of flesh meeting flesh and the bed creaked again with new weight.
"Took over," Hank said, and went back to doing what Finn had been doing to her enthusiastically, with more professionalism.
Playing her. Like an instrument.
A/N Edit: Okay, so people - or one person, since it's anonymous - don't seem to get it, so.
In a lot of the scenes in Season 1, Finn plays the drums. Midway through the song, he gets up, starts singing, and the drummer guy takes over without even blinking. So, if Finn carried that over into his relationship with Rachel? Voila, fic.
I'd just rather not that people reading the reviews think that I didn't know exactly what I was doing. Hank is not a Gary Stu, but there's nothing about him characterwise, and...honestly? What characteristic in this vignette implies Gary-Stu to you? Argh, stupid people. He's not an OC, I just don't know his name.
Slightly butthurt, but whatevs.