Fiddling with his tie and eyeing it critically in the mirror, Jesse thinks of all the things he thought at seventeen years old.
Firstly, that though Broadway wouldn't be easy, it would be simple.
His year coaching Vocal Adrenaline had proved differently.
Secondly, that he'd never fall in love.
The ridiculous picture of Rachel Berry laughing (and snorting) that he carries in his wallet disagrees.
Thirdly, that he'd never, ever think about having children.
Which is, of course, why he and Rachel have already devised a list of baby names, years before they plan to start trying.
And lastly, that he'd never get married.
And yet here he is.
So far, his wedding day has proved far easier than the planning. Waking up, eating (some) of a lavish hotel breakfast, and putting on a suit haven't proved strenuous or nerve-wracking. Then again, it's half an hour until he has to be at the Plaza, and only another hour on top of that before it's show time.
Though he's almost certain everything will run smoothly, there are still doubts circulating Jesse's mind. What if Rachel doesn't show? What if he forgets his lines? What if someone tries to interrupt the ceremony?
He pictures – not for the first time – someone bursting in and announcing a reason they can't be wed. This time, it's because he's already married – before, it's been that Rachel was being forced into it, that he wasn't a citizen of the United States, or that Rachel was paying him to defraud the state. An overactive imagination has only ever fed into his drama.
A knock on the door stops the scene in his head before his supposed wife can slap Rachel, and he calls out 'Come in!' as he smooths down his tie once again. In the mirror, he sees Rachel's dads enter the room, and holds back a laugh as they dramatically clasp their hands to their hearts. Divorced or not, they're still perfectly in-sync and equally dramatic.
"So handsome. If you were an inch taller, Rachel would have competition."
Hiram winks at him, and ignores Jesse's scoff to pull him into a hug. As he's passed over to LeRoy, who clasps him heartily on the back, Jesse can't help but feel a debt of gratitude for the two men in front of him. Not only have they raised Rachel to be the incredible person she is, but they've accepted him into their family, and nothing means more to him.
"How is she?" It's the only real question on his mind, and both Hiram and LeRoy smile in response.
"Positively vibrating with excitement," LeRoy tells him. "If it weren't traditional for the bride to be late, she'd be there waiting already."
Silly as it is, it's a relief to hear. Since graduating high school, Jesse's learnt not to take anything in his life for granted.
"She sent us to check on you." Hiram looks him over with a pleased nod. "You appear to be in one piece. Still here. Dressed and ready. No nervous ticks or gross sweating. You're already in the top 5% of all grooms."
"You know me. I'm always extraordinary."
He may be humbled, but that doesn't mean he's forgotten that he's the best. Somehow.
"We expect nothing less. After all, that's why we're making Rachel's dowry so large. That sixth cow was a stretch when we were already offering fourteen sheep and nine chickens."
"Lucky you did – it was the extra cow that clinched it."
For the next five minutes, her dads fuss over him, and Jesse spends most of it dodging the hands that try to 'fix' his hair. He lets them straighten out his collar and take endless photos, showing them how to set a timer so he can pose with both of his soon-to-be father in laws. He tries to do his signature smoulder, but somehow every picture ends up with a larger smile. He's struggling to contain the overwhelming happiness that's spread through his entire body.
When Hiram's phone goes off – playing Don't Rain On My Parade, the song that Rachel sets for herself on every cell she can get her hands on – Jesse itches to answer it himself. They promised no contact, and though he spoke to her a little over fourteen hours ago, he's not sure he'll last the hour forty-five he has to wait to see her again. He's actually a little jealous as Hiram answers the call.
A minute later, Hiram informs him that they're being called back to assist the bride, and his phrasing pulls Jesse out of his moment of neediness. Today, she's his bride, and in a few hours, she'll be his wife. Every second of the day was precious and to be enjoyed. Even the agonising ones before the ceremony.
He gives Hiram and LeRoy quick hugs goodbye, promising to see them in a few hours.
"Tell Rachel I love her."
LeRoy shakes his head.
"I think she knows, but we'll pass it on."
–
Greeting the guests is a weird experience. Rachel's had him looking at photographs of her family for months to learn everybody's names, but it's having the New Directions and Vocal Adrenaline in the same room that's confusing. Though Rachel quickly inaugurated him into her friendship group, the divide in the room reminds him of younger, stupider days.
As the clock inches towards two o'clock, none of that matters. It's not important that they started off on different teams. He doesn't care that the New Directions were unfair to him, and Rachel's moved on from Vocal Adrenaline being cruel to her. Today, more than anything, represents unity. Their guests may declare themselves for the bride or groom, but he and Rachel are about to become one, and that's the only thing that matters in the world.
It hits two o'clock, and Jesse feels the air leave him. He leaves chatting with his uncle to stand at the end of the aisle, shoulders back and hands clasped in front of him . He's so ready for this.
It's with a silly smirk that his brother leans over to him.
"It's two o'clock and eight seconds. Guess she's not coming."
Jesse rolls his eyes, reluctantly fond.
"Thank you for your input, Gabriel."
He's not worried about Rachel not showing. Just dying from the suspense of not knowing exactly when.
For another five minutes, their guests chat amongst themselves, the low murmur doing nothing to soothe the pounding in Jesse's heart. All he wants is to see Rachel, and kiss Rachel, and marry Rachel.
In front of him, the doors move, and a hush falls over the room. Jesse's mouth has gone dry, and he can almost feel himself leaning forward in anticipation. He holds his breath, and then the doors open, and his world stops.
It's the most beautiful sight he's ever seen. But it's not just the gorgeous (if horribly expensive) dress, or the meticulously curled and pinned hair, or even the light, natural make-up. It's the way she glows, and the ridiculous, beautiful, incredible smile on her face.
He can tell that Rachel struggles to slow down enough to stay in time to the music, and her eagerness makes him laugh – a breathy, shaky chuckle.
It seems like forever before she's close enough to him, and even then he has to wait for her to kiss her dads. He holds his hand out at the earliest opportunity, their fingers threading together.
"Hi," he whispers, leaning in closer and shutting his eyes to just breathe in this moment.
"Hi." Rachel presses a soft kiss to his shoulder, and then they step back, their eyes holding each other's gazes and their hands squeezed together.
In all honesty, Jesse doesn't hear much of the ceremony. All he can focus on is the woman in front of him, giggling as giddily as he is because they're actually doing this.
The words he does hear are their vows. They – Rachel – decided that she's going first, as an attempt to keep her from sobbing through them. As she takes a deep breath before starting, she tears up, and things don't look good.
"When I was in my sophomore year of high school, Mr. Schuester told me that I'd meet a boy who would like the parts of me that I didn't like, and that they would be his favourite parts. I didn't think it was possible, but he was right. Only a few months later, I met you." Rachel's voice cracks, and she sniffs, the tears running down her cheeks in earnest now. "You make me feel safe, and loved, and special, and you've been there for me even when I didn't know it. Every morning I get to wake up next to you reminds me that I am the luckiest girl in the world, because nobody else could ever love this amazing, handsome, talented man as much as I do. You're the kindest, most loving person I know, and however many years we get together could never be enough. When I'm around you, I feel like I can do anything, and be anybody, and you will always be there to catch me if I fall. There is nobody I want more to be my husband, and nobody I would trust more to be the father of my future children. You've always pushed me, and you've always loved that I want the spotlight, and I fall more in love with you every single day. You're always the one to use the word inevitable, but we really were, are, and always be, an inevitability. I love you."
Jesse doesn't even care that he's crying now. He just wipes his tears away and tries desperately to remember everything he had written down.
"Though dedicating my first Tony win to you is the ultimate declaration of my love, I'm going to try and top that." He takes a deep breath, and raises Rachel's hand to his lips to kiss it gently. "I love you. No matter which way I turn, that seems to be all that matters. I love you, and nothing matters more to me than making you happy and seeing you smile. No words will ever describe how lucky I feel to be standing here with you. So I want to focus on our future instead. On the life we're going to share, because you are my life, Rachel Berry. You're my everything. I will do everything in my power to always keep you safe, and comforted, and loved. I will never intend to hurt you, or disappoint you, or make you cry. I will love you, and cherish you, and think that you are the most incredible person for the rest of my life. You are beautiful, inside and out, and I will do everything I can to be the husband you deserve. You deserve nothing but the best, and I will spend the rest of our lives trying to prove that I am. I love you."
He manages to choke out the last few words, and then it's onto the 'I do's and the rings. As he slides Rachel's wedding band onto her finger, he can't help but think of all the moments that have led up to this – the incredible highs, the awful lows, and the wonderful, blissful moments of domesticity. It's pure joy that bursts through him as their lips touch for their first kiss as husband and wife, the cheers of friends and family ringing in his ears.
When they pull back, they still only have eyes for each other, matching, ridiculous smiles plastered on their faces. Jesse leans in to peck her lips once more, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her against his chest. He's reluctant to let her go, but eventually they link hands and begin their walk down the aisle together.
–
The reception is a blur of speeches, dances, and a little bit too much champagne. He and Rachel perform countless duets – Hello is their real showstopper – and Jesse spends most of it clinging to her somehow. They spend a good ten minutes making out in a darkened corner, and it's only when they hear his brother chanting about cake that they decide it's time to emerge.
Jesse's not sure he's ever felt this happy before. Every time he looks at Rachel, all he can think is that she's his wife. He thinks of the stupid eighteen-year-old, lying and deceiving and thinking he 'kinda' liked her. He remembers the lonely twenty-year-old, rejected and so far away from his dreams. It's hard to believe he's actually here.
He's pulled out of his thoughts by Rachel's lips pressing against his jaw, and he can't help but smile. He nudges his head down to kiss her, tasting the champagne on her lips. They may be surrounded by their most important family and friends, but she's the only thought running through his head.
"I love you." He murmurs it against her lips, and he feels Rachel's smile widen.
"I love you, too."
They're once again forced to pull apart to say goodbye to the first few guests leaving, and that's when Rachel reaches over to commandeer his hand and pull up his sleeve, squinting at his watch in the growing darkness.
"It's getting late. We should probably get back to the room… y'know, get an early night." She's looking at him with that smug smirk that he knows too well, and he chuckles in response.
"Okay. We'll have to say our goodbyes, though… Think you can wait for your early night?"
She responds by pulling him down for a long kiss, her fingers tangling in his hair and their bodies pressing together. He doesn't complain, but he feels Rachel's other hand slip under his shirt and brush under his abs, and he that's when he realises exactly what she's doing. Despite himself, he whines when she pulls away.
"I can definitely wait." There's a mischievous light in her eyes. "Do you think you can?"
It's another half an hour and many bawdy jokes from his brother before they get through thanking every guest for coming. It's to applause and waves that they leave the room, and Jesse carries Rachel's heels over his shoulder as they pad hand in hand down the maze of corridors to their room. For a while, they're silent, fingers threaded together, and Jesse doesn't think he's ever felt so content before in his life.
Rachel nuzzles into his side as they get closer, beaming up at him.
"I wish today could last forever." Her voice is wistful, and Jesse squeezes her hand.
"So do I. But while our wedding day won't last forever, our marriage will."
"Very true. Mostly because you're never getting away from me, Jesse St. James."
Jesse can't help but smirk to himself.
"You're never getting away from me, Rachel St. James."
It's already Jesse's favourite thing to say, and Rachel seems to agree – dragging him towards the door of their room, which is now in sight. For tradition's sake, she stops and holds her arms out, and Jesse picks her up, bridal style. It may not be their home, but for tonight, it will do.
Carrying her into the room, he sits her down gently on the bed, shrugging off his jacket. She's already informed him that they have to get her hair down and her dress secure before any 'intimacy' can occur, so he sits dutifully behind her, pulling the pins out of her hair and pressing a kiss to her neck with every one. She turns to kiss him properly when they're all out, and then he helps her out of her dress, hanging it up while she disappears into the bathroom. For now, it's domestic, and gentle, and Jesse loves every second of it.
He's lounging on the bed when she emerges, a short, white, lacy nightgown hanging loosely off her body. Though Jesse's seen it all before, he can't help the butterflies building in his stomach and the heat pooling a little lower. This is the first time they'll be together as man and wife.
As Rachel approaches him slowly, he sits up, holding his hands out for hers. She takes them with a shy smile, and he draws her closer, craning his neck up to kiss her, slow, but certain. He can feel her smiling, and he tugs her into his lap, humming contentedly as her arms wrap around his neck.
"I love you." She whispers it, tilting her head to kiss him again before he can reply. "My handsome, amazing, wonderful husband.'"
Jesse kisses her softly, brushing their noses together.
"I love you, too. I am so, so lucky that you are my wife."
After that, there's little time for talking – the only sounds are moans, gasps, and groans of each other's names, and eventually Rachel's light snores as she curls up in his side, his love, his light, and mostly importantly, his wife.