"Sing with me," Blaine half laughed, half whispered as he grabbed her hand, breath smelling all too much like the beer he and Finn had been drinking all night. She fiddled with the straw of her own strawberry daiquiri before breaking into a grin, nodding and letting him lead her to the small stage in the corner.
She wouldn't ever deny Blaine a thing, especially not something as simple as belting out an old Foreigner song in a dive bar in Brooklyn while their friends watched on, singing when Rachel or Blaine got too giggly to continue.
By the time they finished, Rachel was on the performance high she got regardless of the size of her audience, laughing merrily as Blaine swept her up in a giant hug.
"You," she laughed more, and he couldn't help but smile back at her, "you're the best. The best of the best. The bestest," she grinned, and he just let out a low chuckle before she leaned over and kissed him, not thinking through of the consequences of their boyfriends sitting four feet away, shrugging after she pulled away and headed back to Finn's lap, unsure of how to answer his question on what that had been about.
"One day, I'm going to be famous," she confided as they shared yet another night away in the dive bar, Finn gone, Kurt out of the picture.
"You're going to be so fucking famous," he repeated, taking a swig of his beer as he racked up the balls on the pool table where she was settled on, content to just watch him line up shots on his own, never particularly joining in.
"Are you still going to love me when I'm super famous?" She asked, her eyes wide as he scoffed at her.
"Of course I am," he promised, placing down the cue and sliding on the table with her. "After all, I'm going to need you to support me while I figure out what the hell I'm supposed to do with my own life."
"You could become famous too," she whispered, leaning her forehead against his own, biting her lip as she stared into his eyes. He placed a small kiss on her lips, nothing sensational by any means but still enough to get her head reeling as she closed her eyes.
"Fame is your dream," he reminded her. "I'm just going to be the guy in the background who follows you around."
"You can be my arm candy," she giggled, laughing louder as his arms wound around her and pulled her in tighter, the feeling of comfort and contentment practically causing her to see stars.
"Now that sounds like a career I can handle," he joked, his voice low near her ear, his breath tickling her neck as she fought back a shiver, Rachel content to stay there forever if need be.
The stress of New York was amazing, constantly leaving Rachel breathless. She'd spend endless nights running lines after auditioning for hours on end for any stage role she could snag. And even when she landed something, she kept trying for bigger, for better.
Still, when Blaine suggested she come with him to Lima for a group meet up-Quinn and Finn were getting married in a few months, something shocking to no one-she jumped at the chance.
"As long as you don't let me devolve to my former self," she made him promise, and he nodded in agreement.
"If I come anywhere near a bowtie, you're free to slap me," he added with a wink.
Out of the whole group, she was sure it would have been Blaine and Kurt who had the happily ever after, Rachel becoming their best friend while she was too busy to pursue her own love life. Instead, college had destroyed them, and when Rachel stuck closer to Blaine than to Kurt, it had ultimately ruined their friendship as well. Finn tried living in New York for awhile before running back to Ohio, unhappy with the city and with Rachel for not giving him her whole self. For not being the number one guy in Rachel's life.
"Blaine is gay!" She'd argue, but during his senior year of college, Blaine admitted he wasn't-not fully, flooring both Rachel and Finn.
When she met his girlfriend, Rachel assured herself she was just protective of Blaine, not jealous of the girl with gorgeous dark hair and wild dreams, the girl not nearly as talented as Rachel herself was.
Their drunk make out sessions that she had become oddly used to had to end abruptly, now that he wasn't as gay as previously mentioned. Making out with your gay best friend is acceptable. Making out with you bisexual best friend is confusing and eventually leads to feelings.
Feelings that Rachel was trying to ignore that she might have already had.
It was easy to stay herself around the group, everyone having changed so much as it was. Quinn was positively radiant as she showed them around the house that she and Finn had bought right after the proposal, including a nursery for when they started having kids. Finn was happier than Rachel could have ever imagined he would be, and she was pleased to see that he had finally found something to satisfy him. Mercedes, Kurt, Noah, everyone had come to the party, laughing and gossiping and catching up as they drank.
When Rachel spotted the swing set in the backyard, a few too many drinks into the afternoon, she could barely stop herself from running towards it, Blaine and Kurt laughing as they joined her. Kurt jumped onto the swing next to her, standing on it as he swung back and forth, Blaine pushing Rachel as she demanded to go higher and higher.
The feeling of Blaine's hands on her body, even momentarily, was something she would never get used to. Something she would never stop hoping for, something she never wanted to stop.
"Why didn't we just stay with your dads'?" Blaine asked later that night as they lounged in the hotel room they had chosen to stay in.
"Because they're re-doing the kitchen and don't want anyone there," she shrugged, rifling through her suitcase for some pajamas. She didn't even hesitate as she slipped out of her dress-the yellow one she had chosen because Blaine once mentioned it was his favorite on her-feeling Blaine's eyes on her as she undressed. She'd do this every once in awhile, as if to remind him she was a choice for him, how he could have her if he wanted, teasing slightly by allowing him to see her in a state very few did.
It never panned out the way she wanted, he was always a gentleman, leaving her more frustrated than before as she forced a grin and jumped onto the bed with him, stealing the remote and crinkling her nose at the action movie he had chosen before demanding that she would choose their activity for the evening, thank you very much.
"You're going to get this Rach," Blaine whispered in her ear, squeezing her hand tightly. She just shot him a smile, relieved he agreed to be her date for the evening.
Being up for a Tony at the tender age of 26 was a big thing, even if it was only for a supporting role. A supporting role with a Tony win could bump her up to a leading role with multiple Tony's. It was everything she had ever wanted from life, but it still felt empty and hollow. She may have had Blaine with her for the evening, but Blaine's current girlfriend was sitting at home, scowling at her television.
"And the winner is..." the announcer proclaimed, Blaine squeezing her hand tightly as she practiced her gracious loser face, "RACHEL BERRY!"
The tears fell even quicker than her mouth did, Blaine kissing the side of her head and whispering a quick "I'm so proud of you," before shoving her gently towards the stage.
She didn't have the most articulate speech planned, and if you asked her years down the line all she could really remember was the "Thank you Blaine, for being my everything. I'll never love anyone as much as I love you."
"I broke up with her," Blaine said a few months later as he walked into Rachel's apartment, not bothering to knock-had stopped knocking years ago, when she pressed a key into his hands and told him he was there often enough that he should start paying rent.
"Why now?" She asked, trying not to let her hopes up once more for them to only be dashed away when it was for someone else, just as it always was.
"Because, I'm 26. I'm done with playing games."
"If I recall, when Noah and Sam visited last month, you guys spent half their time here playing video games," she replied dryly, ignoring his smirk.
"You know what I mean," he said, sitting down at the kitchen table where she was pretending to read the paper.
"Who'd you break up with her for now?" She asked instead, her voice distant as she mentally prepared herself for the blow, for the this secretary in my office, or for the new vice president, or the cute guy at Starbucks-the one you flirt with all the time that's obviously gay?
"You," he said instead, his tone simple and quick, his face even and calm as she looked at him skepticall. He let out a loud laugh. "It's always been you Rach. I've spent the past-what, 10 years? Waiting for you to admit your jealousy and stop me from dating these girls I have no feelings for."
"I wasn't going to-" she started, and he just smiled, the action causing her to stop mid-sentence.
"I know. You thought it was making me happy, so you bottled it up. Which I should have seen sooner, kind of did see sooner. I just wanted to make sure-look, Rachel, bottom line is I love you. I don't want to pretend that I don't anymore."
She was across the table, kissing him, before he could even finish his statement.
"I love you," she whispered, smiling into his chest where she was settled comfortably.
"I love you too," he hummed quietly, rubbing her back gently. It may have been nearly a year since those words came out, but it never failed to make her smile.
"You know that saying that the world is only worth living if somebody is loving you?" She asked quietly, and he nodded, the movement subtle and slow and groggy as he fought off a yawn. "I was thinking the other day, how it's true. How being in love opens you up to all these experiences and makes everything so much better."
He let out a small laugh, kissing the top of her head. "Such a drama queen," he teased gently. "But I'll admit the clichés are clichés for a reason."
She didn't bother answering, letting sleep overcome her. Being with Blaine was even better than she could have possibly imagined, how it was practically a heaven on earth for her.