Unmasked

Finn's POV

On our second date, we went to a nightclub and danced to techno music in a sea of unknown faces; I remember every detail of her hands on me, the feel of her body twisting against mine, the beaming smile she sent me under the neon lights. Our third date was on Coney Island; I won her a giant Pikachu at a game booth after discovering Valerie had the shittiest aim. If you told her to aim at a target in front of her—two feet away—she would find a way to take out your eye. I convinced Valerie to eat a hotdog which counts as one of my greatest achievements in life; she made a face at the first two bites but ended up 'not wanting to throw it a dumpster'.

This was our fourth date. Valerie said something about poetry days ago, so, I found a poetry reading at a pretentious cafe. It was one of those French imitations and the authors reading were just as melodramatic.

"I thought it was funny."

"Your idea of funny is a little off." she stuck out her tongue. I rolled my eyes, holding the door open for her. "This wasn't stand-up…" Valerie had let out a loud snort mid-declamation. Which earned us a round of glares.

"Oh, come on—it was funny." She put a hand against her chest and held out the other, reciting, "Her hair glistened in the rain like nose hair after a sneeze…" she lost it, laughing hysterically. Alright. I smirked. That had been a bad metaphor and…fucking hilarious.

Our linked hands didn't even register. It was something so normal now, almost like we'd been doing it for months. We'd been going out for a week. My parents were happy that I was having fun and getting out of the house, instead of locking myself in my room playing video games. I kept telling them I was going to the gym or clubbing—alone—because I couldn't use Trip as an escape goat. He worked for Dad. April was the only one questioning my new outgoingness; every glance she gave me was suggestive and promised: I'm going to find out what you're up to. Valerie had it easier since her…

The only heads-up I got were the two little droplets that fell on my nose. The sky opened in a furious downpour. Shit. Valerie squeaked. I grabbed her hand tighter, pulling her under an awning. More unprepared people joined us underneath the coffee shop's sunblind. I glanced down at Valerie; she was wearing a jean jacket with a top and shorts. Her jacket had dark splotches from the sudden rain. We waited for a good fifteen minutes for the rain to thin out; it didn't happen.

"My car isn't far," Valerie fitted her front against mine, pouting. "Unless you melt like the Wicked Witch, there's not a good enough reason for you to say, 'I hate rain'."

"Yes, there is. It's cold." This was part of a summer storm, it was so hot the air was damp. "Let's wait a little longer."

About ten minutes later, the rain showed no signs of slowing. I gave Valerie a look. Her groan was cut short by me tugging her down the sidewalk, racing under a surprise rainstorm. Valerie called me an asshole. I would've thrown her a quick grin, but I didn't want to crash into the other scurrying people. We had to wait more than five minutes to cross a fucking crosswalk. Valerie was a shivering mess by the time we made it to the Chevy. I wasn't any better—I wasn't even wearing a jacket. Which reminded me… I slammed the door and quickly turned around, reaching into the backseat for it.

"Get this off," I was already reaching for her arms, aiming to slide the drenched jacket off. Valerie frowned as she tossed the wet thing into the backseat; she eyed my jacket carefully, before lifting honey eyes to mine. "What about you?"

"I'll be fine." Though I was starting shake from the cold.

"Thanks." I nodded absently, messing around with the—Valerie sneezed. I pinned her with a worried look. "You made us run for twenty minutes under pouring rain."

"If we hadn't, we'd still be stuck there." Said rain was pounding on the roof, on the windows—everywhere. "It's almost midnight. Did you want to stay there 'till morning?"

"No, but catching a cold wasn't in my plans." Valerie pulled the large jacket around herself. My eyes drifted to the water falling along her legs like small rivers.

"You're not going to." I deadpanned. She froze me with a glare. I pushed wet hair off my forehead. At this rate, we were both going to be sick. Plus, my car didn't have hot air. "Alright. I can't promise that. I'm sorry you're cold and if I could fix that I would…" I trailed off. "Do you… want to spend the night? Over at my place."

"You're okay with that?" that pretty much gave it away.

"I wouldn't offer if I wasn't." the lights were turned off, but I knew there was a blush painting her neck.

"What if your parents catch us? Or… or your sister?" her teeth were chattering. Without a word, I started the car. "Finn?"

"If we're caught, it'll be fine. If we're not, it'll be fine. Relax."

***

Valerie hadn't been to my apartment since graduation. This time, she wasn't drunk, so I didn't have to carry her over a shoulder. She was practically glued to my side, though. I didn't blame her; my garage was cold. My whole building was pretty chill in the summer. My keys slipped, hitting the floor with a jingle. Valerie grabbed them before I got a chance to react; our fingers brushed. I grabbed the keys but kept bending, grazing our lips in a quick thank you.

The lights were off in the living room and kitchen area; I could hear noises from April's room. It sounded suspiciously like her sewing machine which meant she had her headphones on. Valerie was hugging herself, looking at me for guidance. I nodded straight ahead, towards my bedroom. She took the lead—her face scrunched as her sneakers squeaked against the wood. I shook my head walking behind her. Valerie tiptoed the rest of the way into my room.

"Wait here. I'm going to grab towels and..." I touched her wet hair. I gave a sympathetic grimace. "A hairdryer." I ventured into the dimly lit living room and marched towards the doors across it. The timed sound of April's machine hummed through the quiet apartment, muffled by the shut door. Inside the bathroom, I grabbed my towel off the stand and a fresh one off the cabinet. Next, I crouched, opening the sink's cabinet to grab the hairdryer... It was missing. "Damn it, April."

I delivered Valerie her towel and turned to leave again. There was a tug on my t-shirt; I was met with a questioning glare.

"The hairdryer is in my sister's room. I'm going to get it." Valerie looked a little alarmed. Lately, I'd become aware of Valerie's shier side. I completely got that she didn't want to be caught here—in the middle of the night. I gently shook off her grip, moving to my vanity. I pulled out a large t-shirt. "Just dry off and change into this. I can handle April."

I just hoped I could handle her without waking up my parents and half our neighbors. I didn't bother with knocking, she wouldn't hear. I pushed my head inside. April was hunched over fabric and her blue sewing machine. The volume must've been pretty low because once the machine stopped, she glanced over at me, now hovering inside her bedroom.

She cocked a headphone muffler to the side.

"What the hell happened to you? You look like a drowned kitten."

"Thanks for the visual, sis. It started raining when I was walking to the car. Where's the hairdryer?"

April's eyebrows knitted, "You never use it."

"Yes, I do."

"Okay. Yeah, in the winter..."

"April!" I hissed exasperated. "I'm freezing my ass off. Can you just give me the hairdryer? If I get a cold, I'll make sure to sneeze on your food." April's eyes widened, not needing more incentives. The fear of getting sick outweighed her need to be annoying; she caught colds and flues pretty easily. She thrust the black thing into my hands, practically shoving me outside. "Thank you." I whispered under a breath as she quarantined herself.

Valerie's POV

I turned off the blow dryer. My neck was sweaty from the heat; I combed the mass of black hair with my fingers, using the mirror above Finn's vanity to navigate the unruly, wavy mane. I was trying to ignore Finn's lingering gaze; a hard thing to do since he kept ogling my legs. I moved a little to the side, giving him a look through the mirror.

"I can both see and feel your eyes on me."

"I was under the impression that you liked having my eyes on you?" ensue the smartass banter. I gave up taming my hair; I turned around just as Finn slid to the foot of bed. He reached out a hand which I took. I ended up straddling his lap, arms locked behind his head. "Are you still cold?"

"No. Thank you for letting me stay over." Finn gave an imperceptible nod. Our mouths lined up without thought, touching in a transcendental wave of intimacy. My hands found their way into the damp blond hair.

"The pleasure's all mine..." he drawled once my mouth left his to trail hot kisses along his jaw. I planted another kiss on his wide lips before pulling back, planting my hands on his shoulders. Finn's roaming hands ceased their exploration. "Is something wrong?"

"No," I breathed. That one word held more truth than any other in the last years. Because... it was so true. Nothing was wrong—for once. I was with a guy I liked, not just in the physical sense, but in the emotional one. "That's the thing... Everything's great."

Finn looked utterly confused.

"Isn't that... good?"

"Yes!" I relaxed my body, lowering my weight onto his thighs. "It's... What I'm trying to say is that... I—I haven't really felt this... Like this. With anyone. I'm happy—I'm happy with you." I hated this bumbling mess; I exhaled through my nose, fighting for courage. "Do you get what I'm saying?"

Finn cocked his head, pursing his lips.

"Is this the talk?" frustration welled up at the smartass undertone; I slapped his arm. Finn jerked. "It's an honest question. Geez." his expression sobered, so I guess he got his answer. Finn cupped the back of my neck, "I think about you all the time—even when I don't want to. I keep checking my phone for your texts, in case I missed any. I can't look at Lucky Charms without thinking of you because of the fucking marshmallows..."

I twisted to the side heaving a giggle. Finn gently gripped my neck, coaxing me to look him in the eye.

"It's not funny. I'm developing an unnatural addiction for you." he grumbled, but I heard the lighthearted amusement. His eyes softened, slipping into a naked vulnerability. "So, yeah, I get what you're saying." I gripped Finn's shoulders as if he were a lifeline. "I know where I want us to go. Do you?"

"Yes..." I whispered. "I want to be with you—officially."

"That's good," he murmured against my lips. "Really, really good."

Finn and I made out up until we fell asleep, sheets haphazardly draped around us. The last thing I remember, was reciprocating his kiss with a sloppy, sleepy peck. I was lulled into awareness by a happy, silly feeling jumping around my stomach. Finn had his face buried into a pillow, trapping strands of my ebony hair. I wiggled around trying to get him to move his head, but Finn only held me tighter. He was a heavy sleeper. Just like me, hurray.

Unconsciously, I drew up a leg; it brushed something hard. Finn made a sound. A wicked smile quickly took charge of my hands. I let them wander below his stomach, reaching lower, lower... Ah. I gripped him through his boxers, feeling him twitch and lengthen from the sudden attention—not like he hadn't been hard to begin with. Finn's body reacted with a quick jolt; suddenly Finn's droopy eyes were glaring at me.

"Good morning." I said with an overwhelming bucket load of innocence.

Finn's eyes flinched closed for a second. I could see him fighting off sleep as I massaged him through the soft fabric. I moved closer, throwing the covers back with my unoccupied hand. I bent down, pressing a multitude of kisses on his arm, reaching his shoulder.

"What time is it?" he groaned softly.

"I don't know, I just woke up. You were pinning my hair, I tried to get you to move but shaking you didn't work..." Finn made to turn from his side onto his back.

"So, you thought making me hard would be the next step."

"Logically."

"Logically." he repeated, lips edging into a sleep ridden grin.

"And..." I dragged out sitting on my knees beside his prone form. Finn tucked an arm underneath his disheveled head. "You were pretty hard already." my fingers danced on the rim of his black boxers for a beat; pools of mercury pulsed with awe and lust. My fingers hooked on either side of his hips, I tugged down his underwear—Finn helped by kicking it off. "I want to... get you off. Is that alright?"

A small, unbelieving chuckle left him.

"Not to sound like a creep or anything, but do you know how many times I've fantasized about that?"

My lips twisted, "Some guys prefer sex." Jackson had. Midway through getting him off, he would always tell me to stop because he wanted to get inside me; every time, I wondered if I'd done it wrong, but Jackson dated the mean Queen and she would never question herself, she did everything right. Obviously, that wasn't true.

I could see the burning question in Finn's eyes, but also knew he wouldn't bring up my past relationship at the moment. I saw him smooth the question over by reaching out, curling a hand around my elbow and pulling me beside him. He turned his face to mine.

"Anything you do or say—" he gasped a laugh. "Drives me crazy. Not just the sex."

I tucked myself against his side, propping myself on an elbow and reached with my right hand for Finn's manhood, feeling empowered by those sweet words. Between quick and deep kisses, I worked my hand with a steady grip, keeping up pace with Finn's quick breaths. My shoulder was starting to throb.

"…almost…" he panted.

"You said that ten years ago." I muttered. The hand on my cheek pushed the hair falling in front of my nose behind an ear; Finn smiled at my snark, looking only half present. This time, I felt Finn spasm and my hand became covered in warm fluid—just as his chest.

Finn pulled my head close, kissing me fully. My lips were swollen and tingly, but I enjoyed it. Finn glared down at himself, cringing.

"There are tissues in that drawer." He pointed at the bedside table. "Could you…?" I was already sliding across bed to open it. I didn't need to wonder why he kept tissues near his bed. I tore two for myself and handed him the box. I wiped down my fingers.

Done, Finn grabbed the crumpled papers and tossed them into the waste basket near his desk.

"Did you like it?" I asked turning on my side, eying his face as he checked something on his phone. Happy with whatever he'd seen, Finn pounced on me, lifting the t-shirt to kiss along my stomach; he teased my inner thighs with gentle bites. Finn held down my leg so I wouldn't kick him in the head.

"It's almost midday. Which means my parents are at work and April's out interning… You can make as much noise as you want…" he trailed off, showing me just how much he'd enjoyed my morning gift.

***

I was taking a shower. At Finn's house. It was strange but… exciting. I used the shampoo he told me was his and once I got out, I used the towel from last night. I finished knotting it around my warm slippery torso when the door cracked open.

"I know we've seen each other naked already, but you could knock. I could be—" the word peeing died in my mouth. I stood in full-fledged panic.

A woman with square glasses yelled—not a name or anything, she just screamed and jumped back. I was too distraught to say anything. What was I supposed to say? I didn't even know who this person was…

"Mom?" Finn's loud voice reached me. Well. Mystery uncovered: this woman was Finn's Mom. "What the hell are you doing home?"

"I…" her head ducked between me and her son who now stood in the middle of the living room. "I—I forgot my flash drive. There's a girl in our bathroom!"

Finn scrubbed his face.

"Yeah, I know. It's not like she's some random girl who waltzed in and barricaded herself in there." He deadpanned. Finn groaned heavily, hands on either side of his hips as if bracing himself for a freight train to steamroller him. "She's my girlfriend."

Her head twisted toward me again. I gripped the towel, afraid it might slip, and tried to plaster something akin to a smile. What did one do in a situation like this? I lifted my other hand in a shy greeting.

"Hi?" it came out sounding like a question.

"Hi." His mother returned, blinking. Then quickly added, "I'm sorry for screaming, sweetheart—actually, just…" she lifted a hand at me as if saying 'give me a minute', whirling on Finn—nearly smacking into her son, since he'd gotten much closer. "You have a girlfriend?"

"Yes."

"Since when?"

"Now's not really the time…" I edged closer to the exit, where they were. Mainly because Finn was nodding at me.

"When would it be the time? What if your father came home instead of me? I didn't mind Carly coming over as long as your brother told us. To prevent these type of situations, Finn. What if the poor girl was naked?"

The reddened patches of skin on my neck and face weren't due the hot shower. Finn reached inside the bathroom, around his mother, to grab the hand hanging limply at my side. He tugged me outside, stepping in front of me.

He held up his arms, shoulders hiking a bit, "It's not like I planned it!" Finn looked over a shoulder, "Go get dressed, Valerie."

"Huh…" I mumbled, unsure if I should say goodbye or 'I'm sorry for almost giving you a heart attack'?

"Valerie?" her eyes jumped on me. Her expression changed slightly, into a… happier, smug one? I really wanted to scamper off.

"Go get dressed. Please." Finn was pinching his nose like the worst headache possible had its teeth in him.

"Okay. I'm… hmm… sorry… for scaring you—" I hit my towel covered hip on the side of the couch. Ouch. Without another glance, I barricaded myself inside Finn's bedroom, thinking if there was a supreme entity in this universe, it must really enjoy making me the butt of jokes.

***

In the following days after my unfortunate meeting with Finn's mother, I attended an appointment with Lydia where I told her some of my progress in what she dubbed as: the good direction; I had dinner with Dad and told him about Finn—Dad had seemed less surprised than Finn's mother. I hadn't been able to scope Dad's thoughts on the matter, though. Tonight, was Saturday and this was, perhaps, the most difficult thing to do.

Finn and I had just arrived at a high-profile club. Gabe was hosting a party of sorts. That's what he'd told Trip and Finn, anyway. Our eyes landed on a large space, filled with people our age and older. There was a DJ at the far end of the wide room; bodies writhed to the music, seemingly glowing in various colors. I glanced at Finn.

"Gabe's throwing a glow party." Thanks to the ultra-violet lights shining around the room, Finn's teeth appeared whiter than usual.

"Yep," I mumbled glaring at the sea of people. Five minutes later, we were still standing at the entrance. I knew Ava and Thomas were here somewhere, she'd already texted me. "If we just stand here someone will eventually notice us."

"You sound angry."

"I'm not angry." Finn eyed me dubiously. I lifted a shoulder, letting out a long exhale. "I just don't want everyone in our lives to accidentally find out." I was referring to my brief run-in with his mother.

Finn opened his mouth, then shut it. He nodded.

"You're right. We should just get this over with and tell them."

"Great!" I yelled over the thundering beat. I grabbed Finn's hand and pulled him down the steps, onto the dance floor. "After that," I tugged him closer, standing on tiptoes to whisper in his ear. "You can have fun painting my body."

With that, Finn was completely sold on the idea. For the next fifteen minutes, he had one-track mind: finding our friends. Thomas and Ava were hard to spot since, you know, they were making out and we could only see their backs. It was Ava who spotted us; she broke off—I'm going to guess for air?—and saw us. Finn kept our fingers interlocked as we stepped closer. My heart both fluttered and sped up with anticipation.

Thomas' arms were covered in a swirl of red, blue and orange; on his left cheek was a drawing of a pair of lips in green ink. As we got nearer, I spotted a splatter of colorful spots, like a leopard's, starting on Ava's cheeks, going down her neck and shoulders. Surprise swamped Ava's face; I didn't need to follow her gaze to know she was eyeballing our joined hands. It only took a once over from Thomas to know the cat was out of the bag.

"Hey," I heard Finn holler now that we were closer to the large stereo.

The couple was motionless for a minute. Until Thomas broke ranks, looping an arm around Finn, pulling him away.

"I'm going to show him the bar!"

Ava was glaring at me, head tilted, demanding an explanation. If I were a cat, my ears would've gone flat.

Finn's POV

Trip leaned on the steel bar.

"How long?"

"Officially, almost a week." Trip cut me a glare. "Unofficially… it's been going on since the lake house." I was ignoring our first kiss; the continuity of our relationship wasn't something Trip needed to be privy to.

Trip twisted around once the bartender tapped him on the shoulder. He grabbed our drinks, handing out my vodka.

"I thought you guys couldn't stand each other!" Trip spoke over the blaring music. Me and you both, I thought wryly.

"Things change!" I yelled back. I took a long swig of my vodka juice. "I guess Ava was right!"

Trip downed the last of his whiskey, he slapped the cup back on the counter when I realized we hadn't paid for these.

"No worries," he waved off once I told him. "Gabe's paying for them." he pointed all the way to the other side of the room, where the only table and couches were. I think that's where Gabe supposedly was, but I didn't get a glimpse of him with all the squirming bodies polluting the distance between us. "So, Valerie's the reason for all your I-can't-hang-out-I-have-things-to-do excuses." It wasn't a question. I nodded anyway. Trip shook his head, strands of tousled hair falling into his eyes. "Going on dates or having sex?"

"That's none of your business." The answer would be: going on dates. The only sexual activity we engaged in since coming back, was the morning Mom met Valerie. That day had been dubbed by my sister Towel Girl. Why? To annoy the hell out of me.

Trip spied me a knowing look but said nothing.

"Just don't be a jerk!" I told him as we fought our way back.

Once Trip and I came out on the other side of a wall of bodies, alive, we spotted Valerie and Ava dancing together. Which wasn't something I wanted to break up. I mean… a guy has fantasies. A shoulder rammed into mine. I frowned at Trip.

"Keep your eyes on yours." I squelched the urge to roll my eyes.

It wasn't hard to keep looking at Valerie. She was wearing a black top tucked into jean shorts; the checkered shirt I'd seen her wear before was tied around her waist. Eventually, one of them saw us standing there, like petrified idiots. After so much fighting and sneaking around behind their backs, displaying PDA felt a little weird, but tension ebbed away once she maneuvered my head down, to whisper in my ear about body paint. I was led away to the 'paint-job area'. Before I knew it, Valerie had painted half of my face with all sorts of colors, creating something like a Phantom of the Opera mask. I painted a large star on her exposed cleavage and tinnier stars inside that one; I drew blue and green vines across her left shoulder blade, up her neck and left cheek.

We'd been dancing for… I have no idea… when we found Trip and Ava again. Valerie didn't seem all that interested in her friend, just like I wasn't interested in letting go of her. Valerie's hands were roaming downwards, exploring my back. One hand traveled down my arm, reaching for my hand; our fingers intertwined and our noses brushed as I gazed into Valerie's eyes. The music was anything but calm, still, we were gently swaying inside our own little world. The longer I looked into her honey-coated eyes, the more detached I became of the world.

The night dragged on in a flurry of kissing and groping. I think we talked to Gabe twice. When we left, the sun was out and mocking us as we walked for my car.

"Do you want to stay over?" she asked, buckling up. We were in Manhattan; my ears were buzzing from the music and my eyes were stinging from lack of sleep.

"What about your Dad?" her step-mom was still traveling.

"Don't worry. I told him we were dating." Not exactly what I meant. She must've understood because she added, "My father doesn't get a say in things like that. I'm an adult."

That's how I ended up at Valerie's duplex. I handed my car keys to a valet before we took the elevator; Valerie's head lolled against my arm the whole way. I dropped a kiss on her head. We were covered in colorful paint, so, when we strode inside the white-on-white living room, I became afraid of tripping and smudging something in blue or orange. It was around seven, but Simone came out of… somewhere… looking fresh and ready for anything the day could throw at her. The only thing I was ready for was a bed.

"Miss Valerie?" Simone busily examined the body paint. "I assume you're going to turn in, now?"

"Yes." was all Valerie mustered before taking my hand hostage, leading me across the room and upstairs.

"I assume I should prepare a late lunch for you both?"

"Yes." Valerie repeated.

"Thank you…" I called out before I was tugged inside her bedroom. I was too tired to care about embarrassment. Absently, I prodded a painted spot on my arm; I glared at my finger pads."Do you think this paint rubs off?"

"Don't know… let's just go to sleep. We'll shower later." I'd been more concerned about her sheets getting dirty, but hey, it was late. Or supremely early. I tossed my clothes, ending up in only boxers; Valerie got into bed wearing a silk nightgown. It was hilarious how she could think of switching into nightclothes at the moment. I was just tittering the precipice of sleep when she came alive in my arms for measly seconds.

"Thank you." I hummed in confusion, keeping my face snuggled into her shoulder. "For the best summer of my life…"