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When he first noticed her – like really noticed her, one of the things he was immediately drawn to about her was her hair. It’s long and this perfect, deep dark shade of almost black brown that makes him think of rich dark chocolate cake (and he REALLY likes chocolate cake).
But also, it’s SHINY. Like almost light-up-a-room, glow-in-the-dark kind of shiny. It’s sorta noticeable under the harsh fluorescents of the hallways and classrooms in school, but when she’s actually on the auditorium stage with theatre lighting and spotlights cascading from overhead enhancing it, she looks kinda angelic and ethereal (and he sorta thought the shine in her eyes had no rival, until he realized her hair made her eyes look like dying embers).
He’s never seen hair so shiny and it kinda fascinates him probably more than it should for a teenage boy – or any normal human (and on a side note, please never let Puck find out about his fixation on the shine of her hair; being labeled pussy-whipped is bad enough. He doesn’t wanna think what his new moniker would be over the shiny hair thing).
He’s tried to compare the shine of her hair when it’s wet versus dry to see if it’s different, and in his esteemed opinion, it really isn’t... so he guesses her hair just always looks wet even when it’s actually dry, which is just too mind-blowing for him to wrap his brain around.
And because it’s so shiny, he thinks that helps explain why it’s so soft and silky too. He remembers the time before they were them and before he was allowed to just DO things, he’d always wanted to touch her hair. He wondered what it would feel like, the texture of it, as it wrapped around his fingers.
But thinking about running his hands through her hair usually leads to thoughts of what else he’d be doing to her while twisting her hair up in his giant fist, and that’s a train that needs to not even leave the station before he’d be needing (another) change of boxers, so he tries not to concentrate on the feeling of his calloused fingers tangled in her dark tresses too often (unless it’s actually happening).
But now he’s her boyfriend, so he’s allowed to touch and do things that he only ever once fantasized about, and it’s even better than all those imagined sensations could’ve ever been. It’s SO soft and silky and just the feel of it sometimes gives him goosebumps (and other kinds of protruding body parts).
Then there’s the smell. Okay, he KNOWS what a creeper this makes him sound like, but... From afar and without really knowing her well way back when, he used to think it probably smelled like berries, most probably because the name thing. And there were a couple of times in the very early days of glee when he thought he’d detected exactly that smell and assumed it was her.
But when their little group of misfits finally got their acts together and Mr Schue finally got real serious about their choreography and he got to hold her real close in his arms dancing for the first time, he was able to get a good whiff, and WOW. Yeah, sometimes it smells like strawberries, the kind that totally makes his mouth water, but then other times it’s more citrus-y, like grapefruit and lemons. Sometimes it’s super flowery smelling – not like roses, but the best-smelling kind of flowers. Sometimes it’s more coconut and vanilla and other times it’s more of a patriotic crisp apple or cherry smell.
It used to drive him mad, not knowing what flavor her Rachel Berry shiny hair smells would be from day to day, and WHY it changed so often. But again, now he’s her boyfriend, so now he knows it’s because she uses like six or eight different shampoos and conditioners and swaps them out seasonally for different ones and uses them all interchangeably (and all this coordinating is done on a very way-too-elaborate schedule with like charts and graphs and stuff that makes his head spin to think about).
He’d asked her once (and ONLY once) what was the deal with using so many different hair care products and the answer came in a tidal wave of words which went on for nearly an hour. He gathered it was something to do with wax and follicles and a lot of science-y sounding shit that he frankly just tuned right out. (He’d naturally assumed the answer would be simple, something like ‘because I like the way it smells’... after all, that was his only reason for picking stuff like shampoo out. Well, that and the price. Girls can be super weird and complicated though, so he should’ve known better.)
Rachel is very serious about her hair care. And he’s totally cool with that because the result is Rachel Berry’s sexy, bouncy, shiny, soft head of chocolate cake hair that usually makes him simultaneously horny and hungry.
And then one day over summer she dropped a bomb on him.
“I think I’m going to change my hair,” she mused out loud to no one in particular while flipping through the latest issue of some chick stuff magazine that Finn never cared enough about to learn the name of (it’s not like it was Sports Illustrated or Maxim or Playboy, or even Gamer’s Digest, so it totally didn’t concern him).
He remembers the words coming out of her quite clearly because he’d been embroiled in a hardcore battle against Nazi zombies on a really tough level of his video game with Mike and Artie all dialed in on the headset when her random words locked into his brain like the nuclear codes to some guided missile silo and he froze mid-kill and got knocked outta the game.
“What did you say?” He asked monotonically, blinking at her as she continued to nonchalantly peruse the pages of her magazine. She replied without looking up.
“Maybe a new style, a cute cut. I don’t know, a bob, or something with layers? Short hair is coming in fashion now and–”
“No.”
Her huge espresso orbs finally shot up from the book in her lap to find him glaring at her with a deadly serious expression.
“Excuse me? Did you just say ‘no’?”
“Yeah. I said NO.”
“Um, Finn, the last time I checked it’s still MY hair on top of MY head, you know.”
“I know Rach, but it’s just... NO. You can’t cut it all off!”
“Finn, I never said I was going to cut it all off.”
“You just said something about short hair being cool, but newsflash Rach, IT’S NOT! Those fashion rags you read are just LYING to you.”
She giggled a little, trying to understand where his sudden obstinance was coming from. “So, are you saying I have to run all hair-related changes through you for approval first?”
“Yeah, I think that’s exactly what I’m saying."
She stared at him, unsure if she should take him seriously or if he was just trying to annoy her, but the look on his face left no room for confusion.
“That’s very interesting indeed, Finn. I wasn’t aware I was actually dating Vidal Sassoon disguising himself as a CAVEMAN... Or perhaps it’s Paul Mitchell?”
“Huh? Who’s Veedle Sassss..whoever you said?”
“FINN! Listen, it’s my hair, ergo, it’s my decision.”
“Yeah well, by that logic, you’re MY girlfriend, so I get to have a say. And I say NO haircuts.”
Her eyes narrowed as she sucked a full chest worth of air, gearing up for the kind of lecture he’d already labeled as a Rachel Berry wall of words.
“Oh? Is that a fact? You realize there is absolutely NO logic in that statement, don’t you? And let me clue you in on something, MISTER Finn Hudson, if you think for just one iota of a nanosecond that you are going to start going FULL caveman and telling me what I can and can’t do, well, we’re going to have some serious issues in this relationship! I will not allow you to set back women’s rights by DECADES, Finn. I am an independent, strong, proud WOMAN! I have a highly functional brain, capable of thoughts and feelings and a lifetime of learned experiences and am perfectly capable of making my OWN choices! No MAN is going to run my life and tell me how to live it Finn Hudson, no sir! I fully expect you to acknowledge and accept that a woman’s right to choose is HER OWN Finn, and while we’re on that subject you should know–”
“But I like your hair just the way it is, babe. It’s soft and shiny and silky smooth and smells so good... and I like running my fingers through it and twirling it and... and it totally turns me on.”
Finn’s sweet childlike (read whining) interruption floored her and Rachel was left speechless. As she gaped her mouth like a fish out of water for a few moments, a swell of tears pooled at the corners of her eyes, wetting her lashes just slightly.
“It does?” she finally squeaked out softly.
By now Finn had moved from his spot on his bean bag chair in front of the game console to next to her on his bed. To prove his point, he combed his fingers through the long messy ponytail that she’d hap-hazzardly tied loosely to the side with a scrunchy and let his fingertips dance along her collarbone.
“Yeah. It really does... Want proof?” He asked in a low, sultry voice, then proceeded to nibble at her neck and earlobe. “I love your hair, baby. It just does things to me, even just looking at it...” he whispered between kisses, then sucked his mark on the column of her neck as he pulled the scrunchy out of her hair and raked his hand through her locks, and massaged her scalp a little in the process.
She felt herself melting under the flames of his gentle touches. Her toes were quite literally curling against the comforter on his bed and she’d even forgotten what she was so wound up about just a moment ago. As he continued his seductive persuasion, she conceded his point with ease.“O-okay... I won’t cut it short.”
He halted his actions and leaned in close to her lips with his, close enough so she could feel his sweet warm breath waft across her chin. “No haircuts at all baby, please?” He stared deep into the depths of her coffee-brown eyes then planted a sweltering kiss on her lips.
“Um... I, I can promise I won’t get anything more than a- a- a little trim, j-just enough to keep the split ends cleaned up, okay?”
He sank both hands into her hair, pulling her closer to him and smirking as his mouth explored hers. “I love you, Rach,” he breathed out. “You’re perfect the way you are. You never need to change anything, not even a hair on your head.”
She smiled at his sweetness. “Well thank you for saying that... and I love you too, Finn... but, if I wanted to get bangs, would you be okay with that?”
He paused to think about it for a minute. “Bangs? So like, just the front part of your hair, like over your eyes?”
“Yeah,” she sat up a bit and sectioned off a little strip of hair over her brow line to illustrate, “just this much.”
Finn looked at the small amount of hair she’d gathered in her tiny fingers and smiled his crooked grin. “Okay. I guess that’d be a good compromise,” he said, then resumed nibbling on her neck.
The next day Kurt and Rachel returned from the hair salon and Kurt made a formal announcement for grand her entrance. “Presenting the new and only slightly improved, Miss Rachel Barbra Berry! TAH-DAH!” He chirped excitedly and waved his arms toward the doorway, as Rachel now shyly stepped in.
In truth, she was nervous all the way home from the salon, anxiously contemplating what Finn’s reaction would be. Now as she waited for him to say something, she felt him examining her, his eyes drinking her in, but his expression seemed neutral and she couldn’t get a read on his reaction.
“C’mere,” he finally uttered, beckoning her with his hand for her to stand closer to him. She did so, adding a little twirl and a small curtsy at the end for effect.
As he inspected it closely, the only noticeable change was the newly trimmed fringe above her eyes that was still long enough to hide her eyebrows for the most part, but also perfectly framed her face, making the apples of her cheeks seem more prominent.
“Well? What do you think?” she cooed softly.
“I think... you’re even more beautiful,” he answered matter-of-factly while sweeping her into his arms and peppering soft kisses over her cheeks and the tip of her nose. “I love it, babe.”
“Yeah?” she smiled, sighing in relief.
“Yeah, I really do. It looks great.”
Kurt promptly excused himself once Finn’s positive reaction was registered and the eye sex and make-out part of this little reception ramped up.
“I love you, Rach,” he whispered between kisses.
She purred and sighed contently at the feel of his hands in her hair and his hot lips on her skin. “I love you too, Finn, so much. And I’m sure I’ll love YOUR haircut just as much. I took the liberty of making you an appointment at the barbershop before school starts next week.”
Finn was so enrapt in the feel of her silken long curls and the taste of her equally soft skin he almost didn’t register what she’d said until his brain finally caught up with his ears. “‘Kay babe, that’s awesome... WAIT, what? Whaddyou mean you’ll love MY haircut?”