Title: An Inevitable Conclusion
Characters/Pairing: Jesse/Rachel
Disclaimer: Glee and its characters belongs to FOX & Ryan Murphy. I own nothing.
Spoilers/Warnings: Post-"Journey"
Summary: I know that Rachel is going to be a star; it's just a matter of when it'll happen and who will be by her side supporting her when it does. Jesse POV.

—

10. This Night Has Opened My Eyes

I've been dying to have Rachel for almost two years and have therefore become a professional at finding alternate ways to release the tension. It's better than putting constant pressure on Rachel to do something that she's not quite ready for. Now that she's decided that this is what she wants, I can't help but feel she's doing it for me. Though I want to be mature and tell her no doing so would only do more harm than good. So, I just say yes.

My initial touch is hesitant and unsure, a testament to this decision being ripped from my hands. However, if this is what Rachel wants, well, I'm not fool enough to say no. "You're absolutely sure?" I ask, my hand falling unsteadily to her shoulder. I don't want her to regret this tomorrow. I want this to be anything but a mistake.

"I've never been surer of anything in my life," she whispers in response as she steps forward and leans closer, silently encouraging.

I meet her determined gaze, sighing in resignation. I reach for Rachel's hand, my fingers slipping around hers and, with a little more force than I intended, pull her against me. A surprised gasp slips out of her mouth which I swallow with mine, feeling her tremble as I envelop her in my arms, knowing instinctively that it's not from fear, but from excitement.

I continue to kiss her while my fingertips dance across her partially-naked back, absentmindedly toying with the hook-and-eye closure of her bra. Rachel smiles against my mouth as my fingertips traverse the column of her back, stopping at the hem of her skirt. I ease back to meet her eyes, daring her to stop me. When she doesn't, I release the row of buttons keeping it fastened, watching avidly as the black material pools at her feet in a circular heap.

We part long enough for Rachel to step free of it. It's the first time I've seen this much of her at once so I take the opportunity to take it all in, my eyes raking a leisurely stroll along her long and lean body, her feminine shape. "Beautiful," I breathe raggedly, gathering her in my arms once again, attacking her mouth once more.

A shudder suddenly wracks Rachel's body forcing me to pull back and search her face. "Are you all right?"

"Just cold."

I point out the obvious. "We could get in the bed."

"No!" she bursts out, shaking her head, looking at the bed as if it was made of nails. "No. Not that. Not yet."

I rub her arms in an attempt to warm her, murmuring, "It's okay." Pushing her hair over her shoulders, I remind her, "Rachel, we don't have to do this."

Her face hard, she insists, "I'm not chickening out."

"I didn't say that you were," I say, keeping my face blank. "I'm just saying that I'd understand."

"I don't want you to understand, Jesse."

"Then what do you want, Rachel? You'll have to get in the bed eventually, you know."

"I know. Just…not now."

She shivers again. With a frustrated sigh, I leave her side for a moment. I walk to the opposite side of the room and flick off the switch that controls the ceiling fan. "Better?"

Rachel meets me halfway, cheekily responding, "You fail to realize that I'm the one standing here half naked."

Eyebrow quirked, I pull my shirt over my head and toss it aside, declaring, "Easily rectified." Rachel closes the distance between us, wrapping her arms around my waist. I press a kiss to the curve of her shoulder, sliding down one bra strap, rewarded with the ratcheting of her breathing. I trail kisses down her arm as I whisper, "We'll go slow if that's what you want, if it's what you need."

Rachel doesn't say anything to the contrary, but makes a noise in the back of her throat that just drives me on. I lift her hand and place a kiss inside her palm, making a circle with the tip of my tongue. I don't know when I decide to seduce her, but by the shallowness of her breathing, I know I'm succeeding.

"Jesse?"

"Yes, Rachel?" I ask as I pepper kisses down the line of her throat, stopping to pay special attention to the spot on her neck just below her ear.

Rachel expels a throaty moan, but is still somewhat mindful enough to remember what she had wanted to say. "When were you…I mean, how long has it been…," she trails off, struggling to voice her questions in full sentences.

It doesn't take a genius to realize what she's trying to ask. I lean back to meet her gaze, recognizing the questions lurking in those soft brown eyes. I confess, "I haven't been with anyone since I returned to Lima." She nods, evidently pleased with the answer she's received, although I'm not done. "There's only been you, Rachel. Even when I was in L.A. you were all I wanted. Every girl I was with—"

"Jesse, don't," Rachel hastily interrupts.

"No, let me finish. I want you to know. I don't want you to doubt what you mean to me."

"I don't."

"Then, let me say this."

She relents with an uncertain, "All right."

I pick up where I left off. "Every girl I was with was you in some fashion. In the beginning I did my best not to notice. I disregarded the similarities. Then, I don't know…suddenly I began to notice the differences. And no one was good enough. No one was you. You are all I want, Rachel. I am stupidly and irrevocably in love with you. There are no substitutes."

A tear slips down her cheek and I curse myself for turning the moment maudlin when it should have remained as close to romantic as possible. Then Rachel says, "When I was with Finn I felt that there was something missing. It took me an awfully long time to realize that thing was you, that I was just with the wrong person and in the wrong relationship."

My eyes a little watery, Rachel swims in my vision as I bridge the distance separating us, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips, burying my fingers in her hair.

Our proclamations diminish what remains of our doubts. Rachel reconnects with her bravado, tearing at the fastening on my belt with a vigor that I would find humorous in any other situation. She takes to the button and zipper on my dress pants with the same aggression, eager to have me as unclothed as her.

I reach behind Rachel and quickly undo her bra. I break our kiss long enough to slip it down her arms, Rachel giving me a surprised look.

"It's not my first time," I say, staving off further comment by preoccupying her mouth with more kisses. I flip flop our positions, taking us down onto the bed, Rachel falling atop me, her hair surrounding us like an inky black waterfall.

I pull her down, relishing the feel of her skin on mine as our lips meet again. The position must be awkward for Rachel because she starts squirming, slipping and sliding against me until I dig my fingers into her hips in an effort to forestall any further gyrations, already hard as a brick.

"What's wrong?" Rachel asks, looking down at me.

"If you don't stop moving this is going to be over before it ever gets started," I grind out.

Her forehead wrinkles in confusion. "What do you—oh." Her cheeks color. "I didn't realize."

"I'm sure you didn't." I shift Rachel's legs until they're straddling my body. When she accidentally rubs against my erection, she lets out a little gasp. I don't expect her to do it a second time, but then she does, this time on purpose. "Rachel…" Her name comes out as a groan, her virginal exploration slowly driving me mad.

Leaning forward, I bury my face in her neck as one hand curls around her breast. I tease her nipple to a point as Rachel continues her grinding motions against my dick. I'm half-mad with lust by the time that I flip Rachel to her back and snake my hand into her lacy yellow panties. She arches into my hand, moaning my name, stroked her to a fever.

Her climax comes upon her, hard and fast, surprising us both. As she fights to catch her breath, I stare down at her, enjoying the flush on her cheeks, the dazed look in her eyes. Once she's come back to herself, I ease myself back onto my haunches, slip two fingers beyond the hem of her panties and shimmy them down her legs. Rachel stares at the ceiling the entire time, refusing to look at me. It's only when I touch my fingers to her calf that her eyes meet mine, once again hesitant.

"Do you need a few minutes?" I feel compelled to ask.

She shakes her head. "No. It's okay. I'm okay."

Taking her at her word, I slip out of the bed to grab a condom from the drawer. I watch Rachel for a moment. She looks completely ill at ease, except that she won't look at me and she's now twiddling her thumbs, her anxiety apparent. I urge her to slip under the covers as I shed my boxers and sheathe the condom before joining her.

I gather her in my arms and simply hold her, hugging her against my chest to ease the apprehension plaguing her. It is Rachel that makes the first move, twisting her body until she is lying beneath me, her eyes staring up at me intently.

I take a deep, fortifying breath. "If I hurt you…"

"You won't," she says definitively.

"But if I do…" I touch my forehead to hers, nudge her nose with mine. "I think this is harder for me than it is for you," I whisper.

"Why should it be?...You've done this before."

"Yes, that's true, but never…everwith someone that I loved. There are expectations."

"I don't have any expectations."

"Well, you should."

"I love you, Jesse. The only expectation I have is that you love me in return."

"You know I do."

"My expectations have been exceeded then." She knots her fingers in my hair, and bringing my head down to hers, murmurs, "Kiss me, Jesse."

Obliging her, I shift slightly, my body settling into the vee of her legs. Without a second thought, I take my cock in hand and guide my way inside Rachel's body. The penetration is a slow process, Rachel's body resisting mine. "Relax," I murmur in her ear.

"I am," she insists through clenched teeth.

"If you were I'd be inside you already."

"This feels really awkward, you know."

"It won't for much longer. Now, take a deep breath." She groans a complaint but complies. I use that moment to push all the way into her, sheathing myself to the hilt. On Rachel's sharp cry I still, glancing down at her, at the shock and discomfort marring her face. "Rachel?" I question.

"I'm fine."

"You're sure?"

"I am. You have to take the pain with the pleasure, right?"

"Right."

She nods her head, making a circular motion with her hand as if to say, "Continue."

Though it pains me to do so, I ease out of her body, Rachel making a small grunt in return. I give her only a second of reprieve before I slam back into her, the next small noise coming in the form of a long moan. I glance at her long enough to see her close her eyes and lick her lips. "Rach…spread your legs a little," I command.

Her eyes fly open, locking with mine. "A little bossy, aren't you?" she teases even as she obeys.

I smirk, settling more comfortably between her legs. After that words cease between us, Rachel's body lifting to meet each of my thrusts, her breasts rubbing against my chest with an erotic sway. It's been long enough for me that it won't take me long to reach a climax, but I try to prolong it as long as possible for Rachel's sake, wanting our pinnacles to coincide.

"Jesse…" Rachel gasps, her nails digging into my back, "Harder."

I do as instructed; pounding into her harder, faster, sweat beading on my forehead from the exertion. Then, suddenly, it's upon me, the warning scratching my throat. "Rachel…Rachel…I can't…I have to…"

A shrill scream emits from her mouth before her muscles contract around my cock, hastening my own climax. I gasp her name as I follow in kind, my entire body thrumming with pleasure.

The aftershocks of my climax are still echoing through my body as I meet Rachel's overcome expression. There's a dopey smile on her face that I can't help but trace with my fingertip, memorizing it.

"I'm not a virgin anymore," she muses, obviously pleased with the fact.

"No," I agree, "You're not." I touch my finger to the tip of her nose and give her a quick kiss before I slide free of her body. Rachel's wince follows me from the bed as I excuse myself to clean up. When I return she's sitting up in bed and has donned one of my shirts.

"I hope you don't mind," she says, glancing down at herself in the University of Michigan shirt.

I shake my head, handing her the warm washcloth that I brought back from the bathroom. "I didn't know if you needed this."

She takes the washcloth from me with a shy smile as I sit down beside her. "Are you okay?" I inquire, concerned by her silence.

She nods, refusing to look at me. When she does her eyes are bright with unshed tears. I swallow past the lump that has formed in throat, hoping this isn't when she says that we've made a mistake. Rachel says nothing of the sort, but leans in to kiss my cheek, whispering, "You're perfect," before excusing herself to the bathroom.

—

Lying in the bed, an arm slung behind my head, Rachel in my arms, I'm staring at the ceiling lost in thought. One particular thought is niggling at my conscience and I can't help but disrupt the quiet, gently imploring, "Rachel…?" as I idly stroke her arm.

"Hmm?" she ventures, half asleep.

It hadn't occurred to me to ask before now, but better late than never, I guess. "Where do your dads think you are?"

Rachel takes a long moment to answer. "They know I'm here."

"They do?"

She lifts her head and steadily meets my gaze, confirming, "After the last time I came without their knowledge, they made it clear that it was not to happen a second time."

"Oh."

"They didn't balk much about me coming see the play, but they weren't too keen on us having sex."

I sit up slightly. "You told them that we…that we were going to…"

"There isn't much I don't tell them." I watch as she pushes her hair behind her ears, looking down at me worriedly. "That isn't a problem, is it?"

"No, of course not," I assure her, patting her hand reassuringly. "And they were okay with you doing this?"

She nods. "They just wanted to make sure that I was doing it for the right reasons and not because I felt pressured."

"What did they say?"

"They advised me not to leave the protection up to you." I nod, even as she adds, "I've been on the pill for the last three months."

"So this wasn't a spur of the moment decision," I realize despite Rachel's early assertions to that fact.

"Didn't I tell you it wasn't?"

"Well, you have to look at it from my perspective, Rach. You tell a guy no, no, no he's gonna have his doubts when you finally say yes."

She points out, "Yes, and most guys wouldn't second-guess the yes."

"I'm not most guys," I'm forced to point out.

"Precisely what made this decision so easy."

Curious, I ask, "Now that we've...you know, are your dads going to be more lenient about you coming here?"

She cackles, "Not at all," as she climbs back under the covers.

—

We're woken in the morning by the ringing of Rachel's phone, an obnoxious tone alerting us to the call. She scrambles out of bed and into the living room where she'd left her things the night before, leaving the bed cold and empty beside me. Realizing that cuddling is probably not a possibility now, I hop out of bed, grab a shirt out of a drawer and head toward the kitchen, pulling it over my head as I walk. I put on coffee while unintentionally eavesdropping on Rachel's conversation.

"…it was fine. Yes, fine. No, I'm not going into detail. What? No, he didn't do that. What isthat? You know what? Don't tell me, I'm probably better off not knowing. I'll call you later this afternoon. No, we do not plan on having sex all day." On that note, I poke my head into the living room, giving Rachel an intrigued look, amused when she snaps the phone shut, deftly hanging up on whomever she was talking to.

"Brittany, I gather."

Rachel nods, stuffing her phone back into her purse. "She was curious if we had…you know."

"Is there anyone you didn't tell about your little plan to seduce me?"

"You," she says with a conniving smile. "And there was no seducing."

"I think the story would be more plausible if you told everyone that you seduced me."

Rachel points out, "You've waited two years. No one would believe me that it took a little coercion to get you to have sex with me."

"Didn't it?"

"Not much." Rachel waltzes past me into the kitchen, noting the still brewing pot of coffee.

"I think Brittany's idea has some merit."

"What idea is that?" she asks, distractedly surveying the contents of the refrigerator.

"The us having sex all day idea. Lots and lots of merit," I say, slivering up behind her. I loop an arm around her waist, pulling her upright against my chest, my hand already on her breast. Biting her ear playfully, I urge, "Come on, Rach. What do you say?"

She moans, "But I'm hungry," as she shuts the door and allows me to drag her back to bed.

—

At the start of the new semester I reconcile that I'm not going to participate in a production. Remembering the toll that it took on my relationship with Rachel in the fall, I'm not prepared for a spring redux. However, when talking with my advisor she encourages me to prepare a monologue and audition anyway, pointing out that it'll look good in my transcripts when and if I decide to transfer schools, something that I have been contemplating.

I'm hesitant to tell Rachel, leery of her reaction. However, since she is preoccupied with preparations for Regionals, she doesn't balk at all when I finally tell her. She wishes me luck with the audition process and offers to run lines with me. It's an offer than I soon regret taking her up on, concluding that Rachel is the worst person I could acquire for such a venture—we'd always wind up in my bed, the lines an afterthought.

After some deliberation we agree to focus on our separate projects, even though we'll have less time for each other. We're not happy about it, but promise to make more of an effort this semester, neither of us apt to repeat the fall's slow debilitation on our relationship.

I score the part of Claudio in Much Ado About Nothing, a part Katrina insists that I acquired because I am so stupidly in love with Rachel. Usually I hate being transparent, but in this instance I don't mind at all. Rachel is the one thing in my life that I've done right—excluding our first go round, of course.

While Rachel is busy with Regionals, I throw myself into preparations for the play and at night when I retire to my bed, I try not to bury my face in the pillow that retains the smell of Rachel's coconut shampoo. Just two years ago I was running scared from the depth of my feelings for this girl, hating how dependent I'd become on her opinion, her voice, her smile—simply, her. Now I need her with me every second of everyday, and feel completely adrift when I'm not with her.

Rachel and I have discussed the future, but not the immediatefuture, what will happen once she graduates. I've thought about it (I've got a lot of time to think when I'm alone in my apartment) and though I've only got two years of school under my belt, I've been contemplating a move to New York. Being involved with a play the past two semester has merely intensified my need of performance and if I'm serious about making it on Broadway, New York is where I need to be.

I haven't mentioned my plans to Rachel yet since it all hinges on the New York Film Academy application that I submitted a few weeks ago. Regardless of the outcome, I refuse to do anything that takes me farther away from her.

I decide at the last minute to attend the Regionals competition. I've got a long weekend off from school due to a flu outbreak amongst the teaching staff and since I haven't seen Rachel for a few weeks, I drive three hours to Dayton where the competition is being held this year.

I don't seek Rachel out before the show, mostly due in part to the members of New Directions still viewing me as public enemy number one. But I know how important this is, too—whoever places scoring a spot at Nationals. I don't want to do anything that jeopardizes this opportunity for her and New Directions.

Sitting in the audience I'm forced to endure the less talented acts relieved when New Directions finally graces the stage. Rachel is dead center, sandwiched between Finn and Puck, the three of them belting out the beginning of a tender love ballad that makes me want to retch.

It's irrational, I know, but I still have residual feelings over the "Run Joey Run" debacle back from when I was attending McKinley. Being one of Rachel's many was something that I didn't want to be; even then, though it was prohibited, I wanted to be her one and only. Seeing her with other guys twists something in my gut that I don't particularly like. Even more, I understand how Rachel felt seeing me onstage with Katrina.

When Rachel breaks off into her solo I shutter my thoughts, concentrating on her—every word, every bodily shimmy and shake. I question the choice of song (as I usually do when Schuester's in charge of the final selection) but not surprisingly Rachel makes it work.

I wait until after the curtains close before making my escape, wondering if I can nab Brittany without Rachel seeing.

—

I'm sitting on her hotel bed when Rachel enters the room, her face flushed with excitement from her performance. She struggles with the reality for a moment, not believing that she's really seeing me. She pushes the door closed behind her, her room key falling carelessly to the floor, my name a whisper on her lips.

I'm unprepared for Rachel's bodily assault or the feelings that consume me as I hold her close. When I try to step free of her embrace, her arms remain steadfastly locked around my neck. "Rach…Rach…aren't you going to let go?"

"I prefer not to."

I laugh, maneuvering back toward the bed. I turn us around, falling onto the mattress, taking her down with me. Rachel winds up sprawled across me, her hair falling around us like a silk curtain. I absently toy with the strands, letting the softness sift through my fingers for a few moments as Rachel asks, "Jesse, what are you doing here?"

Pushing her hair out of her face so that I can see her, I murmur, "I missed you."

"Well, I missed you, too." She presses a quick kiss to my lips, gasping, "I'm so happy to see you," when she pulls away.

"Really? I hadn't noticed."

She gives my chest a playful smack. "I wish you'd told me that you were coming."

"I didn't know that I'd be able to. My schedule opened up at the last minute," I say, squeezing her hand.

"I don't care how you're here just that you are." Then, "How did you get into my room?" I smile, whispering the name of my coconspirator. Rachel rolls her eyes, muttering something under her breath that sounds remotely like, "I'm going to kick Brittany's ass."

"Don't be mad at Brittany. I kind of corralled her into helping me."

"No, I'm not mad that she let you in here. I'm mad that she kept me downstairs for twenty minutes talking about the difference between rabbits and bunnies—that's time I could have been up here with you."

I grin at her disgruntled expression and quickly change the subject. "Have the results come in yet?"

Rachel shakes her head. "The judges are still deliberating. They'll call us down once they're done."

"So, we have some time."

"A little," she says, her cheeks flushing.

"Not for that," I tell her as I flip her beneath me. I stare down into her dark eyes for a moment before I fall onto the mattress beside her, gathering her in my arms. "I don't plan to maul you every time we're together, you know."

"I know. I just don't want to go downstairs looking recently tumbled."

"Recently tumbled?" I echo, amused at the turn of phrase.

"You know what I mean."

I press a kiss to her forehead. "Yes, I know what you mean." We both fall silent, for different reasons, I'm sure. I silently debate telling Rachel about my plans for New York. I haven't kept it from her on purpose; there just has never been a good time to mention it. "Hey Rach…?" I start just as the phone on the bedside table starts ringing.

Rachel darts up, crawling across the bed to answer it. "Hello? Oh, hey Britt. Okay, I'll be right down." Hanging up, she says, "The results are in," as she scrambles out of the bed. She smoothes out her dress, turning to look at me. "Was there something you wanted to tell me?"

I smile and shake my head. "It can wait."

Rachel nods, heading for the door. She scoops up her key card from the floor, turning back to me to ask, "Will you be here when I get back?"

"I'm not going anywhere," I confirm, yet hovering on the tip of my tongue as she blows me a kiss before disappearing out the door.