I love these summer time prompts! 37.Driving late at night with the music up and with no particular destination. Screams Finn to me, but lets combine it with 26. Accidentally letting slip a dirty fantasy from the other list.
If you’ve watched the movie, see if you can catch my easter egg 😉 Also, I made this GIF just for this fic!
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For the third time that night, your eyes caught Finn’s.
The first look was through the smokey haze of an early evening bonfire, the piled-high wood that had been chopped still a little wet from an earlier rain.
The second look was after you both reached for the same cup at the keg. Finn insisted you take the cup, and with a sweet smile, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and watched as you got your beer. You thanked him again and he nodded, and without turning back, you knew he was watching you walk away.
While the first looks could have been brushed off as nothing more than an exchange of intrigue, the third look had purpose behind it. Again with his hands in his pockets, Finn was watching as you laughed at one of Benny’s stories; instead of turning away when you caught him, he grinned as his eyes slid over you, head to toe—and back again.
You slipped away from the conversation and approached the sexy, sort-of stranger.
“Hey,” you said, your lips still turned up in a smile.
“Wanna go for a drive? Only had a beer earlier so I’m not shitfaced or anything.”
“Sure,” you answered narrowing your eyes as you thought about exactly what you could be getting yourself into, but the smile never left your lips.
Tossing the last dregs of your beer in the trash, you looked up at the sky as you followed Finn to his car. Your body was caught in that delicious in-between of being buzzed but not quite, so your mind was hyper-attuned to everything around you—the warmth of the mid-summer night, the stars dotting the black sky as the moon outshone them all, and the cicadas thrumming in the trees and on the ground, singing for their mates.
“Your chariot awaits,” Finn smirked as he held open the door.
“Why thank you, kind sir,” you giggled as you slid down into his passenger seat, the leather cool under your exposed thighs. You looked around, surprised by how clean his car was because Finn always seemed like a bit of a scatterbrain. You had at least expected a few errant fast-food wrappers or maybe some extra clothes, but it was spotless.
As soon as Finn settled into the driver’s seat, the car filled with the smell of him—detergent and the earthy-pine scent of his cologne.
“Your car is clean and you smell nice,” you stated the obvious, pulling a toothy grin from Finn as he turned the key in the ignition.
“You sure you didn’t have more to drink?”
“It’s the—GAH!” you yelled, clutching your heart as the bass from the last song Finn was listening to vibrated through your skin and into your bones.
Laughing, Finn reached out and turned the music down.
“Sorry!”
Laughing too, you waved it off, Finn sneaking one more glance at your surprised, cheerful face before pulling out of the driveway and taking a left onto the highway.
“Windows or AC?” he asked over the lowered volume on the stereo.
“Give me a sec,” you replied as you fished through your bag for a hair-tie.
After assembling a messy bun, you reached over and rolled your window all the way. Finn followed suit and then turned the volume up again.
“Love this song,” he said, glancing over at you with a smile.
“Rap it then!”
Finn bobbed his head a couple of times to pick up on the beat then he started enthusiastically rapping:
Two AM, summer night, I don't care Hand on the wheel Driving drunk I'm doing my thang Rolling in the midwest side now Living my life, getting our dreams People told me slow my roll I'm screaming out fuck that I'm a do just what I want Looking ahead no turning back If I fall if I die Know I lived it to the fullest
You were laughing and when you joined in on the second verse Finn looked at you with amused surprise. You rapped together, giggling at the lyrics you messed up, and when the song was over you listened to the next one in comfortable silence as the wind mussed your bun and tousled Finn’s curls.
“Should I ask where we’re going?” you shouted.
Finn turned the music down so you could talk over it, and replied, “How’s ‘no where’ sound?”
“Perfect,” you grinned.
You looked out the window and watched the trees whipping by, nothing but black blurs in the late night. You could see the lights of town just ahead, but in this moment, you felt like telling Finn to drive . . . forever.
“Can I ask you something?” he questioned, interrupting your thoughts.
“Yeah,” you said turning to look at him.
“Why’d you say yes? To coming for a drive, I mean.”
“Starting with the obvious, you are pretty cute, Finn.”
He laughed and shrugged his shoulders, switching his driving hand so he could lean into the center console, his arm now almost brushing yours.
“That all it takes with you?”
“Uh, no!” you pushed your arm into his, warm skin against warm skin but only for the briefest moment. “I know you’re a good guy.”
“And how do you know that?”
“I . . . may have made some inquiries about you,” you teased.
“You—” Finn said, cutting himself off as he pointed at you, “Made inquiries about me?”
“Maybe.”
Finn pursed his lips and nodded, his eyes sparkling brighter and brighter as you drove into town and the streetlamps illuminated the inside of his car.
When you reached a stoplight, he relaxed his driving arm and turned his head toward you.
“So you maybe made some inquiries about me and you maybe liked what you heard enough to take a chance on going for a drive with me. About right so far?”
Without looking over, you smiled and bobbed your head in a slow nod.
“Light’s green.”
“So it is.”
“Go!” you shouted as you laughed, finally turning to look at him and seeing his—were they blue? green?—eyes looking over at you with a brightness that made your breath catch in your throat.
Finn finally broke and giggled, laying on the gas and speeding through the intersection. You laughed, too, shaking your head and when he asked if you wanted to stop at the next gas station for something to drink, you said yes.
He insisted on paying for your water and the handful of snacks you absolutely needed, and when you settled back into his car and tore into your skittles, you stopped and asked, “Am I allowed to eat in here?”
Finn chuckled and held out his hand. You poured a few skittles into his palm and he tossed them back, at least three of them pinging off the door because he missed half of his mouth.
“Now you have to sweep out my car tomorrow.”
“Fiiinn!” you whined. “You did that!”
“You brought forbidden food into my car.”
Your mouth popped open as you tried not to grin, but when Finn started laughing, you both lost it, still giggling as he pulled out of the gas station and left town.
Once more the car plunged into darkness, lit only by the bright blues and soft fluorescent accents on Finn’s dash. You let one arm drift to the window, holding your hand up and flat to fight against the rush of the wind, and your heart leapt into your throat when you felt Finn’s fingers crawl over your thigh, just above your knee.
That little touch sent a wave of warmth through your body and you turned to look at him, his face stoic until you snaked your arm across the console and rested your hand on the thigh of his khaki-colored shorts.
His lips turned up in a smile and you leaned forward to turn the radio up again.
As you sang along, Finn’s fingers would flex or softly stroke the bare skin of your leg, and in return, you would give his thigh a teasing squeeze.
“My turn to ask,” you said, interrupting your current song by leaning forward and turning it down a bit.
“Ask away, babe.”
“Why did you ask me out?”
“Did I . . . ask you out?” he said, his voice intoned with a teasing lilt.
“Don’t play. I really wanna know! Besides, I answered when you asked.”
“Mmmhmm—if you call ‘maybe’ an answer,” he said his voice lilting into a higher octave as he imitated the sound of your maybe.
You tsked and removed your hand from his thigh, shifting in your seat so his hand fell away from yours.
“Okay—okay! I asked you out because I think you’re fucking beautiful. And I was hoping you were cool, you know like fun to hang out with . . . which now I know you are.”
“You think I’m beautiful?”
“Fucking beautiful, I believe I said.”
“Yeah. You did.”
Finn glanced over and when he saw the way you were looking at him, his face lit up with another toothy grin.
“Have I fucked this all up yet?”
“Definitely not—have I?”
Finn laughed, “Can girls really ever fuck up during this part?”
“What part?”
“The getting to know you part.”
“Either you haven’t dated a lot or you’ve gotten really, really lucky because yes! Girls can absolutely fuck this part the hell up.”
“Truth is . . . I don’t always get to this part. I do the asking, then it’s a pretty short run right to the rejecting.”
“No, Finn. That’s not rejection. That’s a great example of a girl fucking something the hell up because she lost out on a chance to get to know you.”
Finn didn’t say anything, nor turn to look at you, but he found your hand with his and laced your fingers together.
You wished more than anything that he wasn’t driving because you wanted to kiss him—kiss him until the only thing he could remember was that a girl he thought was beautiful wanted to get to know him.
“I’ve never had sex in a car.”
Finn’s hand jerked on the wheel and you grabbed the door’s armrest to steady yourself, a bubble of laughter escaping, sounding more like a hic-cup as you turned to look at him, his lips opened in surprise and his eyes dead-focused on the road.
“It wasn’t an invitation!” you said, snorting with laughter. “Just a . . . possible fantasy for one day when the right guy with the right, clean car comes along—even if it has a few errant skittles on the floor.”
Finn had let go of your hand to steady the wheel and he kept his fists at 10 and 2 while you spoke.
“Fuck, Y/N. You can’t just blurt that out!”
“Clearly!”
“I mean . . . that’s like issuing a challenge.”
“Because you’ve had so much sex in a car?”
Finn gave you a pointed look that reaffirmed he had sex in cars probably more than in a bed.
“It’s . . . convenient. Awkward, sometimes, but convenient.”
“I’m more of a visual learner,” you stated, watching Finn’s hands grasp the wheel again just as he was starting to relax.
“I will, uh, keep that in mind.”
“Relax,” you soothed, leaning into the console and returning to your earlier position of resting your hand on his thigh. “I’m not that easy on a first date—if that’s what we’re calling this?”
“We can call it a date . . . if the night ends with a kiss?”
You bit your lip and scanned his face, watching as the corners of his mouth fought to behave.
“I’d like that.”
And with your words, Finn’s mouth lost its battle to remain neutral and for the hundredth time since he met you, he grinned.