*This is a St. Berry one-shot, based on the song by 3oh!3. I feel like we see two sides of Jesse on the show, the sweet, sensitive side, and the side that is a total jerk. I usually write him the first way, but I wanted to try writing him as a bit more of a jerk. Hope you enjoy! Please review and let me know what you think!*
Jesse St. James took a final drag from his cigarette before dropping it, putting out the butt with his shoe. He ran a hand through his wavy brown hair before turning and walking into the bar. Some popular indie band was playing a show, so it was packed. Jesse scanned the place, looking for his next "victim" as he and his friends jokingly called them. He saw her almost instantly. She was wearing a little black dress, with colored tights that kept it from looking too sexy. Her hair fell down her back in dark, shiny curls. Her chocolate brown eyes were wide and innocent. Jesse smiled to himself. She was perfect. He strode up to where she was sitting at the bar.
"Hey," he said. She looked over in surprise.
"Um, hi," she replied, smiling politely.
"Jesse St. James," he said, sticking out his hand. She took it tentatively.
"Rachel," she said. "Rachel Berry."
"So what are you doing here, Rachel Berry? You don't seem like the Los Angeles type," Jesse stated, taking the seat next to her. She drained the rest of her drink then turned to face Jesse.
"For your information, I just moved here from Ohio. I'm going to become an actress." Jesse snorted and her eyes flashed in annoyance. "By the way, I have a boyfriend, so I would appreciate it if you would stop hitting on me."
"Really?" Jesse asked, looking around. "Where is he?"
"Not here," Rachel frowned. "He's late," she added.
"So do you think your boyfriend would have a beef with me asking you to dance?" Jesse asked, holding out his hand.
"Yes," Rachel answered automatically.
"Well then, it's a good thing I'm a vegetarian," Jesse said with a sly grin. Rachel hesitated, then took his arm and he led her to the dance floor.
Rachel didn't seem comfortable dancing at first, but soon she started to loosen up. At first, she tried to keep her distance from Jesse, making sure not to let her body brush against his. As the song progressed however, she let herself get closer. Soon her arms were draped around his neck, occasionally letting her hand wrap itself in his hair. When the song ended, Jesse led her back to the bar. They were both breathless and smiling as Jesse ordered two beers. Jesse noticed a piece of paper sticking out of her dress pocket.
"What's this?" Jesse asked, pulling it out curiously. "Is this the band's set list?" Rachel snatched it back, blushing furiously.
"My friend Tina loves this band and she's still back in Ohio so she couldn't come," Rachel explained. "It's a souvenir."
"And which of those, uh, lipstick marks are yours?" Jesse teased.
"None!" Rachel cried indignantly.
"Of course not. Your lipstick is neither red nor purple," Jesse stated. Rachel looked impressed that he noticed. Jesse noticed a lot of things, that was one of the things that women found appealing about him. They thought it meant he cared. As these thoughts ran through his head, he noticed something else, something unsettling. "You've got a heck of a lot of bruises," he said, gingerly taking her arm. Rachel's eyes widened. "Does your boyfriend hit you?" he asked seriously.
"No! I'm just really clumsy," she said evenly, but Jesse saw the way the bottle shook ever so slightly as she raised it to her lips for another sip of beer. She looked over her shoulder and froze.
"What?" Jesse asked, turning around to look at the dance floor.
"Finn," Rachel whispered. "My boyfriend," she clarified at Jesse's confused look. Jesse followed Rachel's gaze to see a tall, goofy-looking guy dancing with a blonde bimbo. "He probably saw us dancing and is just doing it to make me jealous," she said with a dry laugh, trying but failing to hide the heartbreak in her eyes.
"What's the big deal? They're just dancing. We were doing the same thing," Jesse said, trying to make her feel better. Anything to make her stop looking so sad.
"Yeah I know," she said, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "I just don't trust that ho," she stated.
"Never trust a ho," Jesse said seriously. Rachel laughed unexpectedly, a sound that made Jesse smile. "So, how about we give this Finn guy something to really be jealous about?" Jesse suggested, leaning forward and pressing his lips against Rachel's. She stiffened, but then gave into the kiss, somehow working her way off her bar stool and onto Jesse's lap. Jesse's hands curled into her raven hair and he closed his eyes, truly enjoying kissing her. He had kissed a lot of girls, but something about kissing Rachel was fresh and new. He had never felt this way about a girl before. That scared him. He knew he couldn't let himself keep thinking like this. This was just another hook-up to him. Nothing more, he told himself. He finally broke away. "You wanna get out of here?" he asked breathlessly. Without a word, Rachel nodded.
In the cab, however, she wasn't quite as speechless. All Jesse wanted to do was keep making out, but Rachel kept jabbering nonstop.
"Shush, girl," he finally moaned, frustrated.
"What did you just say?" she asked sharply.
"I said shush, girl," Jesse explained slowly as if she were dumb. "Shut your lips," he added. Rachel looked offended for about ten seconds, but then she shrugged and kissed him again, silently, thank goodness. When they finally got to Rachel's apartment, Jesse practically carried her up the stairs because neither of them could tear themselves away from the other. They had barely made it through the door before Rachel was unbuttoning Jesse's shirt and Jesse was already tearing off Rachel's dress.
Jesse woke up right around dawn. He turned to look at Rachel who was still asleep. She looked even more beautiful in the early morning light than she had last night in the bar. Absentmindedly, he stroked her hair which was splayed out on the pillow. He felt peaceful, content. He honestly thought he could stay here with Rachel forever. Suddenly, he came to his senses. He couldn't be thinking things like that. That wasn't him. He wasn't the type of guy to settle down. And, as much as he, surprisingly, cared for Rachel, he wasn't going to start now. He carefully slipped out of bed, found some paper and wrote three simple words.
Don't trust me.
Then, without looking back, Jesse St. James walked out the door.