Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.
AN: I'M SO SORRY it took me so long to update. I had my computer in the shop for about a week and a half, so I lost a lot of writing time while it was gone. Also there were some major edits I had to make (which was hard) and over-all, this was just a stressful chapter and I'm sorry. But if you're still here, thanks for waiting patiently and I hope you don't murder me for this.
Mature Content Warning - this is the warning - semi-explicit sexual content
RACHEL
"What exactly did they mean by suspended?" Rachel huffed while Blaine put a stack of notebooks and folders in his old-fashioned storage trunk, followed by an array of desk supplies and his alarm clock. Jesse was busy pulling books from the shelves while Kurt sat on his bed, folding clothing before passing them to Rachel to put in one of Blaine's suitcases. To his credit, Blaine seemed to be taking the news in stride, but he looked positively exhausted and generally beat down. His injuries hadn't been too serious, apart from the clean break in his nose and his sprained wrist, but the bruises made him look worse than he really was. They had all decided that Blaine needed to stay away from his dorm until school officials decided what to do about his violent roommate – she'd voiced her opinion rather loudly that the boy should be expelled – but she never imagined that when he did return to his room, he'd be vacating it per the school's request.
"Fighting is against the NYU's conduct policy," Blaine explained, for once not bothering to hide his emotions, letting his disappointment weight down his voice. "I'm suspended from classes for the rest of the semester, and then they'll decide if I'm eligible for re-entry."
"It's ridiculous!" Kurt fumed. "You were attacked by your uncultured brute of a roommate, you had to defend yourself."
"He threw the first punch," Blaine agreed with a nod, "but I hit back. We're both to blame, and therefore, both suspended with no credit for the classes we've taken, no access to the school grounds, and on top of that, no place to live."
"I can't believe they even kicked you out of your dorm," she sighed as she handed Kurt the last of Blaine's shirts and ushered him off the bed so they could start taking the sheets off. "Where do they expect you to go?"
"Imagine if they made you go back home, like they do at boarding schools," Jesse remarked, unplugging Blaine's laptop and placing it in the open duffle bag to his left.
Blaine's face twisted in a grimace. "How am I going to tell my father about this? He's going to lose his freaking mind."
"He'll probably be angry that Seth didn't beat the gay out of you," Kurt said flippantly.
"Kurt!" Rachel admonished, glancing in Blaine's direction who seemed to be holding back a laugh. "Maybe you won't have to tell him," she then suggested, knowing it was foolish.
"I don't have a place to live Rachel," Blaine said pointedly, zipping his suitcase shut and throwing it out the door before turning to help Jesse with the television. "I have to go home which means, I have to tell him."
"You could just stay with Rachel," Kurt said and Rachel almost nearly leapt out of her own skin; not because Jesse had inexplicably dropped his side of the TV and was staring open-mouthed at Kurt, but at the mere implication that she actually live with Blaine. It was- the idea of it- there's was no way- they couldn't. It was too... intimate, which was pathetic really, considering how "intimate" the two of them had become. As a friend, of course to help him, but to live with him while sleeping with him in secret; it was like begging for trouble.
"I-I uh, think maybe-" Blaine stammered, the bruises on his face off-set by his deep blush, "that's something Rachel should decide, don't you think?"
"It's not like you're not always over there anyway," Kurt reasoned, looking at all of them like they'd lost their minds and maybe she had. He did spend an awful lot of time at her apartment. He'd even spent a weekend there alone when she went home to surprise her dads for their anniversary. He had finished painting her walls with the accent color Kurt had picked out weeks ago, even adding his own touches of red. They ate together often and he tried to cook and even though it was a fairly regular occurrence, she didn't think she'd mind getting to wake up next to him every morning, or have him come home to her every night.
"I mean, it's not a bad idea, I guess," Rachel said quietly, tucking her hair behind her ears as she gazed across the room at Blaine. He didn't say anything, but he matched her gaze, curious and testing. "If you want," she said, prompting and he might have answered if Jesse hadn't chosen that moment step between them carrying the television, effectively breaking the spell.
"It's a terrible idea," Jesse grumbled as he turned around. "I understand that you two are practically the same person, but even Barbie and Ken eventually stopped playing house."
"Apart from the random but fairly accurate metaphor, Jesse might be right," Kurt considered. "You could end up tearing each other apart."
"I really think it would be fine," Rachel insisted, directing her heated gaze towards Jesse who merely returned with one of his own. "Besides, where else is he going to go?"
"I've got a spare room," Jesse said with a shrug as if he'd forgotten. "He can stay with me."
She wasn't exactly sure why she was so annoyed with Jesse, but short of starting a shouting match in front of Kurt and Blaine, there wasn't much she could do except glare at him. She knew he wouldn't be offering his place if he didn't know about her affair with Blaine, and it was downright infuriating that he was trying to take this away from her.
"I think I'd be more comfortable at Rachel's," Blaine said hesitantly, his eyes flickering between her and Jesse as if he noticed the tension. "I appreciate it, but I know her neighborhood pretty well and-."
"And what, you're afraid of getting lost?" Jesse mocked, shaking his head. "You have no job, no classes now, you literally have nothing to do except walk around and get lost. Might as well do it somewhere new. Besides," he said as he threw the rest of Blaine's bags out into the hall, "Rachel's place is barely more than a two-by-four prison cell. Trust me, take the upgrade."
She knew he was right, which only served to irritate her more, and if Jesse was willing to share his admittedly much larger apartment, then maybe that's what was best for Blaine. It was just a passing fancy, she told herself. It would have been awkward, she said, but she couldn't make herself that she wasn't missing out on something she wanted. Still, she was mature enough to know when and who to fight her battles with. Until then, she could swallow her pride and say to Blaine, "I don't think I'd have room for all your stuff anyway."
"If you're sure..." Blaine trailed off, searching her for an answer. She summoned her best, happiest smile and nodded until he looked back at Jesse with a shrug of his shoulders. "Okay, yeah. Thanks man. I appreciate it."
After the matter seemed to be settled, they hauled Blaine's belongings down to the nearest bus stop and squabbling over who would carry what. Kurt didn't want to carry the television, but Blaine and Jesse were both needed to move his trunk around, which left Rachel with the two suitcases and Kurt begging her to switch. In less than an hour, they'd made it Jesse's place and started unpacking in Blaine's new room while he disappeared to call home and tell his father about his suspension. Rachel had wanted to be with him, but Kurt beat her to it and she needed to give Jesse a piece of her mind anyhow.
"I told you about my relationship with Blaine because you figured it out," she snipped, abandoning her task at hanging jackets to once again glare at him, "not so you could sabotage it."
"I'm not sabotaging it," Jesse answered, his voice in a hard edge. "I'm saving it. You can't live with him Rachel."
"And just why can't I?" she screeched and he shushed her quickly, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her across the hall into his own room. She was momentarily distracted, having never been anywhere as personal to Jesse as his room, and was pleasantly surprised by the wall of books – novels, song books, plays, everything – he had behind his bed, with stacks in the corners where he had clearly run out of room. Spread out across his bed were an assortment of loose leaf papers, pens and highlighters, sheet music and dozens of photographs in black and white.
"Did you take those?" Rachel asked, her mission forgotten as she stepped towards his bed, already reaching for the nearest picture.
"Don't worry about it," Jesse said, sweeping them all into a pile and stashing them under his pillow before he turned his attention back towards Rachel. "Do you know how fast you'll get sick of having him always there?" he said and it took her a moment to remember they had been previously been involved in another conversation, about Blaine. "All of his crap would be spread out everywhere, you couldn't have everything the way you like it. There would be no privacy, nowhere to go when you fight. You'll ruin any chance you wanted at actually having a real thing with him."
"You don't know that," she said defensively, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Please," he scoffed, mimicking her movements, a pattern he knew would annoy her. "You didn't even want to live with him until I told you you couldn't."
"That's not true!" she shouted louder than necessary, but only because it was partly true. She had initially panicked when Kurt suggested it, though she contributed that more to the surprise of it all than to any reservations she may have had against the idea. But she wasn't adamant about it until Jesse offered another alternative and no matter what he said, she knew his intentions weren't as pure as helping Blaine, or her for that matter, as a friend.
"Okay, you need another reason?" he asked and she rolled her eyes, encouraging him to continue with a wave of her hand. He was silent for a moment, as if in a silent debate with himself before saying, "he kissed Kurt."
"Kurt kissed him," she corrected and the laugh bubbled forth before she knew it was even happening. "You think I didn't know about that?" Her eyebrows quirked, a sly smile playing at her lips. "See, the thing about Blaine and I is we have no secrets. We tell each other everything. I understand if that is hard for you to relate to, but that's the way we are."
"Right," Jesse said, his eyes flashing with steely anger. His lips where pressed into a hard line and even though she had knew, had even meant for, her comment to hit close to home, she instantly felt guilty for reminding him of something that happened nearly four years ago. But wasn't that the old saying, forgive but never forget. "Does he know you're in love with him?"
"I'm not in love with him!" she snapped indignantly.
"Then you definitely don't need to be living with him," he shot back and she could barely think through the smug smirk plastered all over his self-righteous face. It was outrageous, how quickly he could get under her skin, but he always seemed to know just the right combination of words to elicit whatever response he wanted from her. Right now, he wanted her to say he was right – and of course he was – but she just couldn't bear to give him the satisfaction.
"You don't get to control my life just because you're in it now Jesse."
"If Blaine really wanted to live with you, he would have said so," he answered, as if he couldn't let her have the last word, "But guess what; he didn't."
She let out a frustrated scream and threw her hands up in the air, turning to storm out of the room. She had her hand on the doorknob before he caught her by the arm again and she was forced to face him. "It's just for a few months," Jesse said, his voice and manner considerably kinder. "Then he'll move back into the dorms and if you still want him to live with you in the summer, I will personally move all of his belonging into your apartment. But don't make it so easy on him."
"What are you even talking about?" she whispered, suddenly self conscious under his direct gaze.
His grip loosened and fell slowly down her arm, leaving a trail of gooseflesh in its wake under his hand was cradled on her hip. His other was busy tucking stray strands of hair behind her ear. When he was done, his fingers lingered at the base of her neck, slowly inclining her head to stare up at him. "Blaine is a good guy," Jesse said and she was riveted to the spot, "but he's still a guy. If he thinks he can have all of you without committing to you, then that's the way it will be. It won't be his fault either, it will be yours."
"What if I don't want a commitment?" Rachel said, wetting her suddenly dry lips. "I just spent the last three years in an on-again, off-again relationship. I just want someone I can be with without the drama."
"That's a hell of your own making Rachel," he sighed, leaving her standing at the door as he moved to lay on his bed, arms crossed under his head in support.
"At least it'll be mine," she agreed, moving across the room to sit next to him. They shared a small smile, and she had to admit there was a certain relief in having someone to talk to about her situation with Blaine, even if Jesse was incredibly abrasive. It wasn't personal, she knew, it was just who he was and always had been. It was reassuring to always have something to count on, something consistent to offer. She didn't have to agree with him and sometimes all she needed was him to play the devil's advocate, but in the end, she knew Jesse was ultimately on her side.
"Now, let's talk about these," she said as her hand slipped under his pillow, tracing the sharp edges of the hidden photographs as she pulled them out. He sat up on the bed, watching her as she flipped through them. "Did you take these?"
"I use them for blocking," he said by way of explanation. "The black and white makes it easier to see what's going on on my stage."
"Your stage?" Rachel teased, turning one over and tracing the blurry movement from one of the dancers. "Some of these are very artistic."
"They're crap," he said, plucking the photograph from her hand and throwing it over her shoulder. "I can't use ones like that."
"I bet they'd look good on the walls though," Rachel mused, holding another one up to the wall. "See, three or four of them in a frame, line them up. It'd be pretty."
"It might," Jesse shrugged, gracing her with a soft grin as she rolled her eyes. "You can have them if you want."
"No," Rachel said, shaking her head and handing the photos back to him. "If anyone's going to use them, it should be you."
"I just told you, I can't use them," Jesse insisted, but took it back from her, placing it on his bed instead of throwing it to the floor as he had done the other.
"Well, maybe one day," Rachel smiled, grabbing him by the hand and pulling him to his feet. "Come on, let's finish getting Blaine moved in. You two need to move that fold-out couch in here before we try to do anything else."
"You're so bossy," Jesse groaned as she led him out the door.
-:-
BLAINE
He never thought of himself as the kind of person who got bored easily, but after a few weeks of having absolutely nothing to do, Blaine was sure he was going to lose his mind if his life became any less uneventful than it currently was. The first week had been like a mini-vacation. He slept in later than he normally did without having to worry about being late for class, or what homework he hadn't quite finished. It was nice to have a break, but as his life came to a screeching halt, everyone else's began to speed up. He'd even gotten a part-time job pushing coffee at the Starbucks across the street from Jesse's apartment, just to have something to get up and go pass the time with – and also because his father had actually made good on his threat to cut him off financially while he remained suspended from school. It was mind-numbingly dull, but it wasted a good five to eight hours of his day that otherwise would have been spent counting cracks in the ceiling. Again.
Not that Starbucks was that much better, he mused as he wiped down the counters for the third time in the last thirty minutes, during which only a handful of customers had come through the door. It was rare that there was such a lull at this time of day, but at least by being there, he was being paid for his tedious life. The chime on the entrance sounded and Blaine looked up from the counter, grinning as Kurt wrestled with his overly large book bag.
"Grande nonfat mocha," Blaine said instead of hello, already busying himself with the coffee grinder to make Kurt's drink.
"Imagine if I ever ordered anything else," Kurt laughed, throwing his bag on top of the nearest table.
"The world would probably end," Blaine teased, setting the hot cup in front of Kurt then taking a seat across from him. "You realize there's a coffee shop right across the street from NYADA, right?"
"I hadn't noticed," Kurt smirked with a roll of his eyes. "I've only lived there for two years, but you were texting me and Rachel all day about how lonely you were, I thought I'd come grace you with my presence."
"And it is much appreciated," Blaine chuckled as Kurt began pulling out numerous notepads and books from his enormous bag. "What is all this?"
Even though he heaved a heavy sigh, Blaine noticed the way Kurt's eyes lit up with excitement as he began detailing the short play he was busy writing for his advanced theater and stage class. "If the department head likes it well enough, I could even co-direct it next semester when I take the second part of this course," he explained, sliding a stack of carefully bound papers towards Blaine. "Which is actually one of the reasons I wanted to come by. Would you take a look at it for me? I need a critical eye and I always made better grades after you looked over my papers in high school."
"Your papers were always A level work," Blaine said, flipping casually through the manuscript. "Besides, editing a technical English paper is entirely different from editing a play. I don't know anything about how to write stage directions or scenes. I just know how to memorize lines and stand where the director tells me."
"No, but that's okay because I need someone to read it and tell me if the story is cohesive," Kurt pleaded. "I need to know if the characters are hard to relate to or if anything is left underdeveloped. It'd be like reading a book."
"I mean, of course I'll do it," Blaine agreed. "It's not like I have anything else to do and at least this way, you'll be forced to come see me again."
"The shame; the horror," Kurt whispered dramatically, clutching a hand over his heart as Blaine shook his head in an attempt to hide his amusement.
"You joke, but I feel like I hardly ever get to see any of you anymore," Blaine sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Jesse is always gone, rehearsing with his company or with Rachel, who spends all her time in classes or, again, with Jesse. Then you've obviously been holed up writing this script and you have all abandoned me for the glamorous life of a struggling college student."
"I can't imagine how hard it is for you, not being joined at her hip anymore," Kurt responded in sarcasm before sobering his expression. "I haven't seen much of Rachel myself. She leaves classes and scampers over to theater so Jesse can tel her how high to jump. It's like watching a re-run of those dreaded months when they actually dated during our sophomore year."
"I'm sure it wasn't that bad," Blaine said automatically, trying to remember what Rachel had told him about her time with Jesse. She'd felt like she loved him, he knew that, and their romance had come to a bitter, sudden end when he sold her out to the competition. But mostly she talked about how Jesse believed in her talent, how he pushed her without putting her down, how maybe he didn't go into the relationship for the right reason, but he came to those reasons on his own. She felt valued when she was with Jesse and after getting to know Jesse personally, Blaine could understand why Rachel felt that way. It was the truth, ultimately, that Jesse cared about her and about her dreams in a way that almost no one else did. "I think if she's willing to forgive him, we should go along with it, " Blaine continued. "They're friends. That's good."
"If Jesse had it his way, they'd be more than that," Kurt insisted. "I'm honestly shocked it hasn't happened already. You've seen the way he looks at her. He wants her and Jesse is nothing if not persistent and entitled. He could have her with a snap of his fingers."
"I don't think you're giving either of them enough credit," Blaine responded with a sigh. "Rachel knows how to handle herself; she's grown up a lot. And Jesse, well I only know what he was like in high school based off what you and Rachel have told me, but the guy I know now knows enough about boundaries to not force his way into Rachel's life. It has to be her call."
"Trust me, she'll fall for him again. It's only a matter of time," Kurt said as if he himself were carving it in stone. "Rachel doesn't always do what's good for her, you know that. It's like when she asked you out on that date years ago. I told her it was a bad idea, that it would end in her heartbreak, but she still insisted on going."
"I had a good time time on that date," Blaine reminded him.
"Regardless," Kurt interrupted, "it was a one-time thing. With Jesse, it's a pattern and a destructive one at that. But I guess we all have those patterns. Rachel and Jesse, you and I."
"I'd hardly call us destructive."
"I meant there's always people you end up going back to," Kurt clarified. "Granted, it's never the same, but there are some people you just need. One way or another."
Blaine failed to hide the frown on his face; Kurt had always had the unconscious ability to render him speechless, whether it was with an unexpected term of endearment or by accidentally picking out his greatest insecurities, sometimes pointing out things even Blaine himself wasn't fully aware of. He wasn't threatened by Jesse and Rachel's past relationship – he just wasn't that kind of guy – but he did suddenly feel as if he were in a balancing act, precariously tipping over the edge of a cliff. He had noticed the way Jesse looked at Rachel but he was confident it wasn't Blaine that stopped him from acting on it. Rachel was the one holding him back and if she ever gave him an opening, Blaine wasn't sure he wouldn't be the one left in the dust.
He would be the odd one out again, the one on the sidelines who had to smile through the pain, wondering where he belonged, or if he even did. It was an uncomfortably familiar spiral, one he'd sworn he'd never fall back into. But here it was, like that crazy reckless friend who left you alone to deal with the consequences, burrowing it's way into the pit of his stomach, restless and unsettling.
Because sometimes, Rachel looked at Jesse the way he looked at her.
-:-
"We haven't done this in a while," Blaine smirked as he pulled off Rachel's sweater and tank top in one deft movement, his hands traveling well-known paths up her bare torso. Her back hit the wall and she giggled, wrapping her legs around his waist, inclining his hips towards hers.
He hadn't seen or heard from her since his talk with Kurt four days ago, and Jesse had been coming back to the apartment at obscene hours of the morning. Blaine hadn't been able to stop his imagination from running wild as he thought of the two of them together. So when he answered the door in the middle of the afternoon to see Rachel beaming up at him, he considered the possibility that he'd had a stroke. It wasn't until she'd hurriedly slammed the door shut behind him and fused herself to his lips that he remembered that this was his reality.
"It's really been too long," she agreed, her nails digging into his shoulders as he kissed the side of her neck, nipping at the skin and soothing away the injury with his tongue. The salt of her skin made his mouth water as if hungry, and he was. Hungry for more, for her body, for her. He was a starved man, weak from it.
"Well, you have been awfully busy with your musical," he pointed out, grasping her wrists and pinning them to them to the wall, flexing his fingers just enough to know he wouldn't bruise her. Yet. "Rehearsing until all hours of the night, wearing nothing but a pair of tight little shorts, working up a sweat with Jesse. You know, a guy could get a little jealous."
"No more than a girl could get of you hanging out with her best friend," Rachel quipped, her teeth tugging playfully at his earlobe. "Especially considering your particular histories."
"We all have histories," he remarked, silencing whatever her next thought would have been with a rough kiss and soon there were caught in a power-struggle, pouring all their pent-up frustration and need into each other in a whirlwind of lips and tongue and teeth. When he pulled away to breathe, she held his bottom lip hostage, nibbling at the sensitive nerves until his hands tightened around her wrists. Her body buckled and rocked against his, urging him on.
He dipped down, dragging the flat of his tongue down the valley between her breasts, her erratic and hitched breaths all the encouragement he needed. Her thighs tightened around his hips, her hands straining in his grasp but he wasn't quite ready to let her go. "Please," her voice was nothing more than a mewling rasp to his ears as he teased around the lacy edge of her bra. "Blaine, please, let me touch you?"
He merely shook his head, teeth grazing the swell of her breast before gathering the skin in his mouth, biting down until she clenched around him, her heels digging into his ass. She moaned, his name dripping from her lips and he could feel himself harden just at that. And suddenly, it wasn't just her need; her needed to touch her, to feel in her come apart in his hands. He let her wrists go and they fell instantly to his bare chest, traveling down between their bodies as he shoved a hand under her bra, grasping at her as if she were the blood in his veins. Her hands had somehow made it past his belt, moving in time with his mouth.
"Fuck, Rach," he groaned, her hands guiding him towards the edge. He wasn't quite ready for it and if she didn't let go, this could be over before it started. Yet, it was physically impossible to form the words to ask her to stop.
"Don't fight me, Blaine," she growled when he all but stopped breathing, punctuating her words with one long, full stroke. "I want to feel you come in my hand. Will you do that for me?" Another stroke and his knees were shaking, his useless hands long-forgotten at his sides. "Look at me," she demanded and he did; he marveled at her dark pupils that were blown as far as he'd ever seen them, her cheeks a plush red and at her swollen lips forming his name. "Come for me."
That was the last of his resolve and all the oxygen left him in one strangled moan of her name as her little fingers worked every last drop from his body. She untangled herself from him, and he leaned his forehead against the wall, trying to regain some semblance of control; which was proving extremely difficult as she was on her knees, using her tongue to clean him off. If he'd anything left in him, the sight of her lightly sucking on her own fingers might have have sent him spiraling again.
She hoisted herself up using his hips, a shy smile playing at her lips and he let out a breathy laugh at the thought that she could be so brazen one moment and so innocent the next. He reached for her, softly cradling her face and gave her an unhurried kiss, simply savoring the feel of her against him. He nuzzled into her shoulder and she giggled lightly against his neck as he pinned her against the wall once more. His hand fell between their bodies, palm flat against her skin as it trailed through the valley of her breasts, thumbs grazing and fingers searching. He toyed with the zipper at her hip, teasing the skin just under the waistband of her skirt, watching intently as the flush rose in her cheeks from even the slightest contact.
"I missed you," he whispered, not caring what implications may be lurking under his words.
"I feel like I haven't seen you in years," she replied, arms laced around his neck to hold him close. "But I'm all yours for the rest if the day. We can make up for lost time."
They stumbled their way to his room and Blaine absently thought it was a good thing he didn't bother folding the pull-out bed back into the couch as they fell onto it, Rachel tugging his shirt over his head. It wasn't long before the rest of their clothes followed suit but something seemed to shift as soon as they did. The desperation from earlier dissipated into soft touches, slow and lingering as they took time to relish each other. Even when she sat half-propped against the pile of pillows as he parted her knees, sinking his teeth lightly into her thigh, he didn't feel rushed to claim her. She felt like his and it reminded him of the first day they'd spent together like this, memorizing their bodies, apart from the world as they made their own.
Rachel's hands bundled in his hair as she let out a deep moan, the vibrations traveling down her body, her legs trembling around his shoulder as he took her into his mouth. His tongue reached out, quickly finding the bundle of nerves that sent her tumbling towards a climax faster than almost anything else, working silently as he surrounded himself with the sounds of her quickened breaths and lewd moans. His fingers dug into her hips, holding them still as they started to buck.
"Jesse!" she cried suddenly, her body tensing in a wholly different way than that of when she came. Confusion and hurt flashed through him, overwhelmed only by anger as she pushed him off. She curled her legs into her chest, as if she were trying to hide from him, staring slack-jawed at the door in horror.
"Oh Jesus Christ, really?" an entirely separate voice echoed through the room and Blaine whipped around only to see Jesse standing in the door frame, eyes wide as he threw a bundle of clothing towards Rachel. "Don't leave your clothes around my apartment and close the goddamn door."
"I did!" Blaine shot back, grateful for the sheet that was tangled around his waist that saved him the embarrassment that Rachel was currently experiencing in trying to redress without flashing the rest of the room. She wasn't looking either of them in the eye as she shimmied her tank top over her head, but Jesse couldn't seem to keep his eyes off her, no matter how many times he tried to divert his attention away. His ear were tinged with pink, his pupils a little wider than they needed to be, and his fingers were fiddling with his belt loops; the anger returned as Blaine realized that not only was Jesse practically leering at Rachel, he was turned on by it. "Would you leave please? Now?" Blaine growled.
Jesse's eyes snapped away from Rachel, glaring at Blaine before he slammed the door shut. Blaine could hear him stomping down the hall in the direction of the bathroom and his mind was back to spinning with thoughts of Jesse and Rachel and the two of them together; thoughts Blaine was sure Jesse was currently working out on his own into a handful of tissues. It was more than he could handle at the moment as he rolled off the bed and began searching for his jeans.
"Oh my god," Rachel breathed, clearly mortified. "I can't believe that just happened."
"It's his fault," Blaine muttered darkly as Rachel scrambled into her skirt, straightening her clothes and smoothing down her hair. "He had no business just walking in like that."
"It is his apartment Blaine," she said instantly.
"That's he's sharing with me," Blaine snapped back, tugging his shirt over his head, "and excuse me if I expect some privacy in the room he gave me, with a door, that was closed."
"Was it, though?" Rachel challenged, her eyebrows quirking in defiance. "I didn't close it Blaine and I don't remember you doing it either. Jesse's not going to lie over something that trivial."
"Are you seriously taking his side right now?" Blaine scoffed.
"I'm not taking sides!" Rachel insisted, stepping around the bed to stand in front of Blaine. She made a move as if she were going to hug him, but he resisted, crossing his arms over his chest instead. Rachel stood still for a moment as if unsure what to do next, worrying her bottom lip as she finally decided upon resting her hands on his shoulders. "I'm just saying maybe the door wasn't closed. It's not like Jesse wants to come home and watch two of his friends have sex on his couch. It's uncomfortable for him."
"It's more like he doesn't want to watch you be with anyone else when he'd rather you be doing it with him," Blaine said, furious as Rachel blushed a deep red, her eyes downcast. He brushed her hands away, running his fingers roughly through his hair as he sat on the edge of the bed, glaring resolutely out the window. Logically, he knew they hadn't done anything wrong and that the source of his wrath was all in his head, but Rachel's immediate need to defend Jesse did nothing but fuel the fire. Blaine was just as embarrassed as she was for having been walked in on, but a normal couple would just laugh it off. But they weren't normal – or even a couple – and he was starting to feel like he was kidding himself for thinking they ever were.
"That's not fair Blaine," Rachel sighed, sitting across from him on the bed, reaching for his hand but was again denied. "Jesse and I aren't like that and I would never do that to you even if we were."
"You can do whatever you want Rachel," Blaine snapped before the words fully formed in his mind.
"I don't understand why you're being like this," Rachel said quietly and he glanced over at her, noticing the glassy corner of her eyes where tears were starting to form. His every instinct wanted to reach out and soothe them away but her words stopped him before he could give in. "Are you mad at me for spending time with Jesse? Because you've been spending a lot of time with Kurt and I haven't said a single thing about it despite the fact that we both know he's still in love with you. Am I supposed to think you're sleeping with him too?"
"I'm not!" Blaine shouted.
"And I believe you," Rachel shouted back and she stood up, hands on her hips as her temper flared. "So you should afford me the same courtesy with Jesse!"
"Do you even realize that every other word out of your mouth is his name?" Blaine sneered as she rolled her eyes and began tugging her flats onto her feet.
"I'm leaving" Rachel announced. "I don't have to stand around and let you yell at me for something that is not my fault. I let Finn get away with that for years, but I'm not in high school anymore and I don't have to take it. I'm going home."
She started towards the door, halting in surprise when Blaine beat her there. "Better make sure Jesse's okay before you do" he snipped, his hand twisting the knob and throwing the door open to let her out, "and make sure he's not too uncomfortable. He's probably still in the bathroom if you want to help him out with that."
He didn't wait for her to respond as he slammed the door in her face. He immediately regretted it, smashing his head against the opposite wall, trying to knock the image of her broken and crumbling expression from his mind. He let out a silent scream, furious with himself more than anything; it was all falling apart and he had no one to blame but himself.
-:-
RACHEL
Rachel was numb as she stared at the spot Blaine had been in only moments before, completely at a loss for how things has spiraled so far out of control that it justified a door being slammed in her face. She knew he'd been struggling after his suspension - bored and lonely - but there wasn't much she could do for him. She tried to be as available as possible but rehearsals for Cabaret were longer and more frequent as the date for opening night hurled towards her; consequently, she did spend much more time with Jesse and even if she admitted there was a small truth to the things Blaine had said, Jesse had thus far been nothing but a friend to her. If he was interested in her, he wasn't crossing that line.
The worst part was that she still felt the urge to march into his room and apologize; for the fight, for not being around, for not understanding what was going on in Blaine's head. Except she hadn't done anything wrong this time and she was through letting herself be punished for things that she hadn't had anything to do with, no matter who it was. No matter that it was Blaine.
When it became clear to Rachel that he wasn't going to fling open the door and run after her anytime soon, she turned and headed towards the front of the apartment. "Don't leave on my account," she heard, causing her to freeze once more as Jesse breezed down the hall past.
"I wasn't," she snapped, coming up behind him and shoving him into his room, this time sure to close the door behind her, "though you can kindly explain to me why you didn't have the good mind to leave after walking in on Blaine and I."
"Why would I leave my own apartment Rachel?" he asked.
"You agreed to share it with Blaine," she responded, fully aware that she was reiterating the same arguments she'd shot down barely five minutes ago. "He and whoever he has over have a right to privacy."
"Here's a few tips on privacy," Jesse replied, flopping down on the bed and crossing his arms under his head. "Don't expect to have it at someone else's place. Don't leave a trail of clothing leading to your destination. Don't leave the door open when your boyfriend is going down on you and above all else – this is the most important one Rachel, so please listen carefully – don't do any of this at your ex's house."
"You know Blaine's not my boyfriend," Rachel sighed, though the disclaimer she was so quick to bring up was beginning to wear thin on her. It would certainly simplify a good portion of her life if she didn't have to correct Jesse (or herself) every time something about Blaine and their relationship came up.
"I know!" Jesse barked, sitting up against the headboard and glaring at her disapprovingly. "You're not dating. He's your best friend. It's complicated. You need new lines Berry. I told you I'd keep this a secret, but could you at least try to have a little more discretion?"
"You and Blaine both are yelling at me over this and I still don't understand why!" Rachel exclaimed loudly.
The achingly familiar sound of another door being slammed reverberated through the apartment, literally shaking the the walls. Something fell with a rattling crash; Jesse cursed softly as he got off his bed to investigate. Rachel followed, noticing that Blaine's room was empty, the door swinging slowly on it's hinges. His jacket was missing from the chair it had been draped over earlier; he'd left, she realized with a sinking heart, still angry at her and there was no telling when she'd get to see him again.
Jesse was bent over, picking a frame up from the floor where it had fallen. "I said I'd keep this a secret for you," he said, straightening up and balancing the picture on a nail sticking out from the wall, "and I will, but you're making it really hard to keep doing that."
Rachel gulped, trying to speak around the knot forming in her throat. "I don't mean to," she whispered, glancing at the photos on the wall behind Jesse so she didn't have to look him in the eye. There was something familiar about them, but she didn't have the aptitude to put her finger on it just then. She felt completely rundown, tired, and it was just barely evening.
"I know you don't," Jesse said, "but the things you do, the things you ask me to ignore, they don't just affect you or Blaine anymore. I'm involved in this and how do you think it's going to make me feel when I have to blatantly lie for you so you can keep this up? People are going to get hurt Rachel. Maybe they already have."
He hadn't said any of this maliciously, but she knew he was right; late at night, when the long hours forced her to be honest, she could feel the strain on her connection with Blaine and it was obvious he was too. She'd told herself it was because she hadn't seen him, that it would disappear when they were together. But clearly it hadn't; that tiny fissure had cracked even further and now she could clearly see that it was starting to bother even Jesse. Immensely, because the photos on the wall, the ones she thought she recognized, were the same ones she'd told him to save and put on display. Swirls of black and white, dancers in motion, flaring lights in the background; he'd hung them up simply because she liked them. He would never ask her to give up something that made her happy, even if it made him cringe inside.
Except she didn't feel happy at that moment. Not at all.
-:-
Blaine didn't come back. - Jesse
Rachel had been staring at the text on her phone since biology started, anxiety creeping over her with every passing second she didn't respond, or hear from Jesse that he'd made a mistake, or even Blaine texting her from work because he had nothing else to do. Half the class went by and neither of those things happened, despite the two texts she'd forced herself to send to him. When the professor dismissed them, Kurt – who had been staring at her throughout the course – stopped her before she could convince herself to skip the rest of her classes and race over the Jesse's apartment.
"You didn't take any notes at all," Kurt said with concern. "Is something wrong?"
"I guess I'm just a little distracted," she admitted, glancing once again at her phone. No new messages, missed calls, not even an email. "Jesse said Blaine didn't come home last night. I'm a little worried."
"Blaine's fine," Kurt smiled at her, relief in his eyes. "He's probably hungover, but he slept in my dorm last night."
"He was in your room?" Rachel asked, flabbergasted when he nodded.
"Yeah, he showed up around eleven or so," Kurt explained, shifting his bag to his other shoulder. "He was completely plastered and I let him sleep it off in my bed while I did homework. He's probably still there."
"Why did he- I mean, did he say anything?" Rachel muttered, chewing on the inside of her mouth. Her anxiety was beginning to bubble and boil, confusion and the slightest twinge of hurt, mixed with a deep seated annoyance; the hypothetical things he'd fought with her about yesterday, he'd just made them real and it burned inside her as if she's swallowed gasoline. "Why was he there?"
"He babbled a lot mostly," Kurt shrugged. "Something about letting me get into his head and then he started talking about screwing something up, but I couldn't get him coherent enough to follow what he was actually talking about. I just tried to make sure he wasn't going to vomit all over the floor, but he was fast asleep when I left this morning, completely fine."
Kurt glanced at his watch and hurried off this his next class before Rachel could say anything else. As she watched him run off, blissfully unaware of her inner turmoil, she knew instantly that she needed to work it out before he did get sucked into it. Unwillingly, like Jesse and if Blaine were going to Kurt for comfort, it was only a matter of time before he drunkenly slurred the whole story out to an unprepared Kurt. She made her way quickly through campus towards the dorms, having to wait for a student to let her into Kurt's hall since she didn't have a pass card, and planted herself in front of his room. She started knocking as loudly as she could.
"What?" Blaine shouted, eyes blurry and his hair a disheveled mess. Any other day, she would have thought he looked cute, but not today.
"Rachel! God, sorry," he apologized instantly and she noticed he at least had the decency to look ashamed; not that it meant much to her at the moment.
"You left me to go to Kurt's?" she demanded without any preamble. "You left me, in your apartment, to go get drunk and crawl into Kurt's bed?"
"Can you not scream at me?" Blaine pleaded, his eyes screwed shut.
"I haven't even started yet," she insisted as Blaine grumbled something about being too hungover to argue, as if she could feel any sympathy towards him right now. "You're really going to have to explain this one to me Blaine because I'm at a loss. How could you accuse me of messing with Jesse behind your back, then go straight to Kurt and actually do the same?"
"I didn't do anything with Kurt," he grumbled, eyes sharper as he crossed his arms over his chest, "but it hurts a little, doesn't it?" She was taken aback at how bitter he sounded, though she supposed she should have guessed this was coming. It was a strange comfort to know he shared her tired and worn, jealous feelings, even if it inevitably led to another fight.
"So this is your retaliation?" she scoffed.
"Out of all the things I would want payback for, do you really think it'd be because you told Jesse I wasn't your boyfriend?" he retorted and she was taken aback at how bitter he sounded.
"I didn't realize you'd heard that," she sighed, leaning against the door frame as she reached for his hand. He seemed reluctant but his face softened with the attempt of a smile, slipping his long fingers between hers, albeit loosely. "I've gotten so used to saying that that I hardly think about what it means. I just need you to know that you're more than that. Always. You're my-."
"Don't say best friend," Blaine snapped, ripping his hand away from hers. He pushed past her spot in the doorway and began irritably pacing the hall. "I don't even know what that means anymore. It used to mean something real and now it's this big, convenient excuse for everything we do. 'Don't worry about her; no, she's my best friend - I don't have any feelings for him, he's my best friend.' It's so stupid Rachel."
"What do you want me to say Blaine?" she said heatedly. "Do you want me to start calling you my boyfriend? Because I can, and we can walk around campus holding hands and while we're at it, we can make out in front of Kurt."
"Leave Kurt out of this," he demanded.
"The way you left Jesse out of this?" she hissed, matching his steely gaze with one of her own. "You say Jesse wants me, fine: but you and I both know Kurt is still hopelessly in love with you. The way he looks at you, you've seen it and I've seen it from you. You may not be in love with him the way you used to be but you can't convince me there's nothing left."
The fact that Blaine couldn't look her in the eye was more telling than words he might have said. It had almost been a bluff - she had the vague suspicion that he cared for his ex-boyfriend more than he let on but chalked it up to the way she cared for Finn and how she thought she cared for Jesse - but Blaine didn't call her on it. It hurt more than she expected it too, made everything feel like a lie. Even if they never would blatantly lie to each other, the things they left unsaid were just as damaging.
"Just tell me what you want from me," Rachel pleaded.
"I just want to feel like I'm still important to you," he replied, his hands tangled in his own hair. "Forget everything else - school, the play, Jesse, Kurt, whatever this thing we're doing is - and tell me why you need me."
"I can't just forget those things," she whispered, fighting against the urge to simultaneously scream and cry. "They're all parts of me, just like you are, and they're not independent of each other. But how can you say you're not important to me when we're falling apart at the seams and standing here trying to stop it and I still don't even understand how any of this is happening."
"Then we have bigger problems than either of us know what to do with," Blaine said sadly. He turned from her and started down the hallway, his head down as she called after him in vain.
-:-
When she realized that Blaine wasn't going to call her, the next several days became pure torture; she couldn't concentrate in class, she'd forgotten to write-up her part of her and Kurt's lab work, and she was so hopelessly lost during rehearsals that even Jesse had taken to banishing her backstage with strict instructions to watch and practice on her own. She couldn't even do that and eventually just sat down and waited for the day to end so she could walk in shame back to her apartment.
Things with Blaine, they were supposed to be easy. They were supposed to know where the line was, and to not cross it unless they were both willing to do so. She couldn't be sure when it happened, but somewhere along the way, the line started moving and she didn't which side of it she was on anymore, much less where Blaine was. It was excruciating to think; after three years of friendship, they were further apart now than they'd ever been. Now she understood how Kurt felt; losing Blaine to this wasn't an option but the solution, she feared, could do more harm than good.
She spent the next two days trying to talk herself out of it, to think of another way around what she ultimately knew she had to do. She tried to convince herself that she was just scared and running away, which wasn't an uncommon reaction for her. She dismissed her doubts, saying she made them up in her head, until they came roaring back with a vengeance in the middle of the night.
It took her another two days to finally make the call. She curled up on the couch, legs tucked underneath her and her heart fluttered nervously as she listened to the line attempt to connect then begin to ring. It rang a total of five times, an iron vice tightening in her chest with every one that passed without him picking up. There was no sigh of relief when he finally did, just a slight tremor in her hand as she switched off the speaker to her phone.
"Do you have time to talk?" she asked quickly before he could say anything.
"Not really," Blaine replied, obviously distracted. "My break's almost over and there's a line at the counter."
She cringed; she hadn't thought that he might be at work and all her doubts whispered to her "this isn't the right time. He deserves being told face to face anyway. You don't want to do this now." Rachel almost caved, the words, ''nevermind, we'll catch up later' on the tip of her tongue but she forced them away. "It will only take a moment," she said instead.
"I really don't have time Rachel," he repeated.
"You didn't have to answer your phone Blaine," she couldn't resist saying, though she knew it was the wrong thing to lead with.
"Did you just call to yell at me some more?" Blaine groaned, all the hurt she'd felt for the last week in his voice, which just made it all the worse, she thought, knowing that he was suffering for this too. "If you did, I think I can save you the trouble and fill in the blanks, okay?"
"I don't want to yell at you," Rachel insisted and tried to force her tone back on a conversational level and failing as the words tumbled out faster than she could think about them, "but it's like you don't listen to me anymore and I don't know how else to get your attention."
"Don't make this all my fault, Rachel!" he yelled over her. A stony silence fell over the line and she literally bit her lip to keep from screaming back. Moments passed and she listened to him breathe, marveling at how it was so unlike the nights they fell asleep talking on the phone. There was a tension she swore she could hear even over the static. She expected him to hang up any moment, and jumped a little when he finally broke the quiet.
"What's happening with us?" Blaine whispered and her heart began to break. "We never fight like this and lately that's all it's been."
"I hate fighting with you," Rachel sighed in agreement, forcing down the sob in her throat as she prepared for what she knew she had to say, what she'd known all week. "Blaine, maybe it's time that," and her throat closed up, almost as if her body were rebelling against her. The stoney silence from the other end did nothing encourage her as she could almost picture him stopped dead in his tracks, running his long fingers through his hair in frustration as he waited for her to finish. Maybe he knew what she had meant to say and was praying for her to change her mind, but she couldn't. She wouldn't.
"I think it's time that we end this Blaine," she said, the former wavering in her voice replaced by a strong, clear thought. "I don't want this to ruin our friendship and if we keep doing things this way, it will."
"Rachel, I don't think-."
"You know it will," Rachel interrupted, knowing that if she allowed him to talk, he could convince her of anything.
"Can we talk about this before you throw away four months of our lives?" he asked and the words felt like a sting upon her skin. Tears started to form in the corners of her eyes and she struggled to hold them back. She couldn't cry now; if she showed any of the weakness she felt, it would all be for nothing. She would break and they would fall back into the same cycle and this was not a conversation she could bear to have again.
"This is exactly what I mean Blaine," she insisted, letting her pain harden her voice. Even if he didn't understand, even if he didn't agree, she knew this was the right thing and it needed to be done. If it was up to her to save them, then she would shoulder all the blame. It was something she was used to and for him, she'd gladly do it a thousand times.
"Can I please just come over and talk about this with you?" Blaine begged, his voice cracking at the end and she tried not to imagine the wounded look she knew was in his eyes. "Please, I'll leave work. I'll leave right now," was his choked plea and her tears began to fall before she could do anything to stop them.
"I'm sorry, but you can't," she whispered, cutting of his protests as she hung up on him and curled into herself, hugging her knees to her chest. The phone immediately started ringing again and it was all she could do keep herself from answering it, from letting him convince her she was wrong. She hurriedly turned the device off, hurling it across the room in a fit of rage before she collapsed on the couch to drown in her own despair.
BLAINE
It didn't hit him immediately – not like when Kurt had broken up with him, or even like Michelle – but when it did, it was crippling. He couldn't bring himself to leave his room except to use the bathroom where he usually ended up staring at the wall for an hour or so. He hardly remembered to eat and he didn't go back to work until the manager threatened to fire him, and even then he ghosted through the day as if he had actually died. He felt like part of him had, or at the very least, someone he loved.
The worst part by far was the confusion; he couldn't say he was blindsided by Rachel's decision, but there was too much left up in the air by it. Whatever they had been – he couldn't think about it now, it was pointless – was over and done with for reasons he wasn't sure they would ever really understand. He was angry, furious even, that she'd cut him off the way she had and then that would be taken over by an overwhelming wave of guilt as he thought of all the ways he might have forced her hand.
"Tell me the truth," he said one night when Kurt answered his phone in a tired voice. "Is there something in me that just won't let me have good things in my life?"
"Are you drunk again?" Kurt muttered with a deep sigh.
"No, but I think I'd like to be," Blaine admitted, scratching at an old scar on his leg. "Just answer the question."
"I don't understand the question."
"Why do I ruin or lose every good thing I've ever had?"
Kurt spent a good ten minutes reassuring him that it wasn't his fault, whatever it was and that no, he didn't push people away or make them leave him. But in the end, Kurt hadn't been able to give him a real answer, at least not one that he could accept. After all, he was the only common denominator and the one person who might have been able to convince him otherwise was now part of the equation. He couldn't bring himself to talk to her, and in his fits of anger, he couldn't help but wonder how this was at all for the good of their friendship.
It was a week before Jesse said anything to him about the way he'd been acting, his face devoid of his characteristic smirk and overtaken with genuine concern as he ordered them dinner and declared he was staying in for the night. He offered to invite Kurt and Rachel over and suddenly Blaine realized that Jesse didn't know that he and Rachel weren't speaking any longer; even he wasn't that cold-hearted.
"So do you want to talk about it?" Jesse asked while Blaine struggled to finish his first slice of pizza.
"What about?" Blaine asked automatically.
"About why you're about to cry into your crust there," Jesse remarked, moving the pizza box from between them and situated himself so that Blaine was forced to stare directly at him. "Seriously, you can talk about whatever it is. I'll even listen."
"Thanks," Blaine drawled sarcastically, wrapping some of the melted cheese around his finger.
"I won't even run through choreography in my brain or practice the tirade I'll be delivering to the light crew tomorrow," Jesse said earnestly. "I will listen to whatever you need me to listen to even if it's boring."
Blaine started laughing and it took him a few good minutes to get himself under control, clutching his side and relieved to find that Jesse was still here, his classic smirk in place while he waited for Blaine to settle. "Better?" he asked, and Blaine nodded. "Good. So talk."
"I don't really know what to say" Blaine started. Finding the words was a little easier than he expected, but they weren't coming naturally by any means. "It just gets mixed up in my head and it stops making any kind of sense. But can I ask you a question instead?"
"That wasn't exactly what I had in mind," Jesse said with a shrug, "but I suppose."
"Do you ever think you and Rachel could work out if you had another chance?" Blaine asked and he felt more alive in that moment that he had over the past week. Maybe it was the simple form of her name on his lips, or the way Jesse's eyes widened ever so slightly in surprise, but there was an energy in the air around them as he waited for Jesse's answer as if it would double as Blaine's.
"I didn't get the chance to find out, did I?" Jesse finally said, his words low and thoughtful as he seemed to weight each one before he said them. "I got my feelings hurt, then she ran back to Finn, repeatedly even though I'm clearly the superior choice. What Rachel and I had was intense and that doesn't just end because I cracked an egg over her hair or she kissed her way into a loss at Nationals. But Blaine, people like Rachel and me, we're doomed one way or another. I'm doomed to wonder what might have been."
"Why don't you just tell her?" Blaine asked, fighting around the lump in his throat; the stories were too similar, too close to home and he wasn't sure how he felt about that as the confusion started to seep in again.
"Why would I Blaine?" Jesse challenged, his face falling into hard lines and Blaine felt instantly guilty for upsetting him without telling him anything in return. "Especially now," Jesse continued, "while she has you, it won't make one damn bit of difference."
"She doesn't- I mean we're not – not anymore," Blaine choked, realizing this was the first time he'd actually acknowledged their falling apart out loud; it was a thousand times more painful, but he needed to get it out now while he had the mind to do so because he wasn't sure when it would come again. "We're not like that anymore. I don't know what we are, but we're not that anymore.
"How did that happen?" Jesse inquired.
"Her call. I know a little bit of what that feels like Jesse, to not know, and I really don't know what's going to happen now. I don't even know what I want to happen." Blaine said as he put the lid on the pizza box and stood up. "I wouldn't blame you," he continued, pausing briefly to place his hand on Jesse's shoulder who merely stared up at him without a word. "If you decided to take that chance, I wouldn't blame you."
AN2: Also, just for clarification since a lot of people have been asking: Blainchel is my OTP so just keep that in mind as we go forward.
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