A/N: ….yes, yes, I know, it's been ages. I do sincerely apologise. RL has been utterly unforgiving. I promise I will finish this fic soon, hopefully in the next month. I'm just going to do maybe one more chapter and then an epilogue. Thank you for sticking with it, all of you.
Rating: T
Characters: Beca/Jesse, the rest of the Pitch Perfect cast plus some other characters.
Warnings: (As before chapters)
Disclaimer: I do not own Pitch Perfect or the songs used in this fic in any way. I'm just playing with them.
Hurricanes Chapter 14 – Jesse's Home
"So, who's your favourite?"
"I don't have one."
"Aw, come on, Beca. It was one of the few movies that we watched together where you were sad that it was over!" Jesse exclaimed.
Beca rolled her eyes and stared out into the traffic that made up peak hour in Raleigh. "Just because I liked the flick, doesn't mean I have a favourite Avenger."
"How can you not? I mean, I know they were all pretty cool and ass-kicking, but everyone generally has a favourite because of some reason," pressed Jesse, flicking his eyes from the road to Beca and back again. When Beca just blew out a puff of air in irritation, the penny dropped. "Oh, wait…that is so typical of you. Of course you wouldn't like the good guys."
She just smirked. She knew he'd catch on eventually. He was her boyfriend, and knew her too well.
"Loki. Loki's your favourite isn't he?" Jesse deduced, chuckling.
"Gold star," Beca replied calmly.
The resident dork of the pair just chuckled again. He really, really should have known. Beca had that dark streak in her sometimes and she hardly enjoyed movies where everything was constantly happy. She liked character flaws in people. Jesse knew that if he didn't have such obvious flaw and contrast to Beca's personality that they would have never worked for that reason. "Why?"
"What?"
"Why do you like Loki?" Jesse asked. He had a pretty good idea, but he was focussing on distracting his easily stressed girlfriend from the fact he was going to be meeting with his parents very soon.
Beca shrugged. "I kinda get him. Not the whole sibling rivalry thing. Not the whole take over the world thing. It's more the fact he's trying to strive for greatness on his own due to what happened in the Thor movie and all he was trying to do was impress his father. I can empathise with that. With trying so hard for parental approval and then realise that it was pretty much all for nothing," she murmured.
Jesse's heart sank. He didn't exactly want this line of questioning to lead this way. He wanted to keep her spirits high (well, as high as he could with the 'impending doom' – her words, not his – of meeting his family), not remind her of the circumstances that led them to this road trip. "Well…" he started.
"Not to mention, I love the way he bellows 'KNEEL!' in that Germany scene," Beca added with a slight, teasing smile. She looked at Jesse, instantly reading what he was thinking in the expressive lines of his face. "I'm not upset. Just telling you how I can associate with the character. I'm good, Jess."
Knowing Beca would probably chuck a packet of popcorn at his face if he pushed, Jesse took her at her word. He wasn't going to baby her while she was feeling a semblance of normalcy. It wouldn't be trusting her as a woman if he did.
Silence fell for the rest of the drive. The soft warbling of Florence + the Machine kept them company until Jesse turned into the street where his house was situated, and Beca sat up, really taking notice. Her sharp eyes took in the obviously posh area, the manicured lawns, the overall cleanliness of the street. 'Of fucking course he would live in the American Dream suburb,' she thought darkly. As they travelled further down, the houses got even bigger.
"So…I'm guessing your parents are rich," she broached the topic in her particular Beca way.
"You could say that. They earn a lot, but they don't act it," he replied nonchalantly.
"Oh?"
Jesse grinned. "They always say they're rich in more than money. They're rich in love. They never fail to make me and my brother and sister feel wanted and loved and we love and respect them in return. We aren't spoiled – my parents have made us very aware of our privilege." He noticed Beca's discomfort and he lowered his tone gently. "Becs, does it really matter? It shouldn't be a big deal."
"It's not, I just-" I don't want your parents to feel like you're too good for me because I don't what I'd do if I can't get their approval because it means so much "-your parents seemed very down to earth the day I met them at Barden. I'm just a little surprised. What do they do, anyway?"
"Well, my mom actually works as a director on the board of a local advertising agency. Almost everything in Raleigh goes through her company so that's a nice steady stream of income. My dad's an artist. A very well known one up and down the east coast although his name is getting out west. He's actually doing a commission for a celebrity out in LA. And he won't tell me either, because he knows I'll geek out about whoever it is because they're a famous actor," Jesse informed her easily. "My sister wants to be an artist like dad, and the few bits of art that aren't movie posters in my room are done by my dad and sis."
"Art, huh? Cool. Did you ever do art or anything with him?" Beca asked curiously.
"A bit, when growing up, but I was never as good as my sister. It's fun, but I love movies and singing a hell of a lot more than art. But, it's given me an appreciation of cinematography," he answered in a fond tone, flashes of images, scenes from movies that were so artistic it almost made him ache. Titanic's 'flying' scene, the pure amazement of the environment in Lord of the Rings, period dramas like Sense & Sensibility…
Oops, he almost missed his house while lost in his thoughts. He flicked the indicator and pulled up to a double storey house, a pure, clean white emphasised with navy splashed on the front porch, around the windows, and on the front door. A sculpture took pride of place on the left side of the door – a nightingale holding a daisy in its beak, speckled with a rainbow of colours. As she stepped out of the car, Beca jerked her head towards it and questioned, "One of your dad's?"
"Yep. It was his gift to my mom for their 5th anniversary." Jesse moved to the boot and popped it open, grabbing Beca's suitcase and passing it to her before picking his own from beneath Beca's other belongings she had brought with her in preparation of moving to Georgia. He looked to Beca, who was staring at the house in utter trepidation, dark ringed eyes wide. "Ready?"
"It's like asking if someone is ready to try snake wine. Yes, but no, but you're going to do it anyway," she replied.
"Huh?"
"Snake wine, it's a Thai thing. I'll tell you more later. Let's just go in before I start to freak," Beca said, shuffling forward with a huff.
Jesse knew instantly by the way that none of the Swansons were bursting out of the doors to greet them that no one was home. It was rare that any person wasn't greeted eagerly, whether a stranger or someone they knew. It was the way his family had always worked. In a way, he was glad for this. He could give Beca a tour, get her used to being in his home before his family could overwhelm them with affection and questions. As he opened up the front door, the clicking of claws on tile made him grin. "Chewie! Hey buddy, did you miss me?" Jesse cried as his dog came ambling towards them.
Beca watched as the golden retriever bounded up to his owner, tail wagging wildly and shoving his wet nose into Jesse's outstretched hand. With a raised eyebrow and a small smile – because her boyfriend was such an adorable dork – she asked, "You named it Chewie?"
"After Chewbacca."
"He doesn't look it," she pointed out.
"No matter how much I wished he would," grinned Jesse unrepentantly. He ruffled the dog's fur and beckoned Beca forward. She sank to her knees next to him, stormy blue eyes alight when Chewie turned to her, panting and whining, trying to get closer. Her small hands smoothed over the thick golden fur and scratched behind his ears.
"Oh, aren't you precious," Beca murmured, unaware of her wide grin. Jesse noticed, capturing the moment in his mind. He had hoped that Chewie's usual exuberant greeting would further ease Beca's nervousness, and it worked. While Beca and Chewie got acquainted, he grabbed the bag and hoisted them up the stairs, dumping them in his room and returning to see Beca giggling while Chewie wiggled – belly up – on the floor.
"I can see you've found your soulmate, I see how it is," Jesse teased as he jumped the last step.
"You know, I think you're right. He takes my commands, rolls over, will pledge undying love to me…" Beca bantered in return.
"Want a tour?"
"No, I was preferring to have no idea about this place. Of course I want a tour," Beca deadpanned. Patting Chewie once more, she stood and followed Jesse from the hallway into the living room.
What struck Beca the most was that, despite the obvious opulence of the house and the land on which it sat, inside the house was a home, filled with the memories and warmth. Pictures of the Swansons with their family and friends took pride of place on the mantle in the living room, along with knickknacks from vacations and markets. A piece of driftwood from the beach made a fascinating candle holder on the living coffee table, a bright braid of ribbon wreathed a homemade lampshade, and there was examples of James's artistic ability dotted here and there amongst the mementoes. There was nothing stuffy or pretentious in the way that each room was decorated. Everything was tidy, but it didn't feel like a show home. In kitchen (a peaceful white oasis with only the aqua-tiled splashback to bring colour) a newspaper was left on the bench with a couple of mugs next to a wire fruit basket. There was traces of Chewie everywhere – a rubber bone in the dining room, dog hairs on the couch and dog bowls in the kitchen.
Most of all, Beca felt Jesse. This was his natural environment.
"Ready to see my lair?" he asked her, pulling her out of her introspective state.
"No, because it'll be like a movie poster merchandiser threw up in there," Beca deadpanned, hiding her excitement behind her usual defences. Jesse, as usual, saw through them and took her hand gently, leading them up. After a quick tour of where the rest of the family rooms and the bathroom were, Jesse pushed open the door to his room.
Beca laughed. She had been, at least, partially right.
Jesse's walls were a patchwork of posters of all kinds – films, music, vintage advertising, all tastefully done in black and white. It was dramatic, but softened by the birch wood desk and bookcase overflowing with DVD cases, the navy and crimson bedspread & the oak floorboards. It wasn't exactly how Beca expected, but she liked it all the same. It was classier than she expected it to be. Her eyes flickered over his belongings and she grinned at the blue lava lamp, a five figurine set of the cast of the Breakfast Club and a stray pair of vintage headphones. "You are such a nerd," she breathed affectionately, turning around abruptly and grabbing his shirt, dragging him into a surprise kiss.
Jesse's eyes went wide before he relaxed, finding their usual rhythm they had perfected recently. It only took the ghost of his tongue over her upper lip and Beca opened to him, one of her hands running up to clutch at his thick hair.
They stood there kissing for several minutes, giving in to their passions as they built. Beca was just kissing along Jesse's jaw line, his warm fingers sliding up the skin of her stomach, when they both heard the front door open and loud, happy voices floated up to them.
Beca broke off, eyes widening. "Fuck," she whispered.
"Maybe another time," joked Jesse with a flushed, pleased grin. He earned a light slap and a scowl, but wrapped Beca in his arms all the same. "Hey, it's okay. Remember, they know we're coming and they're cool with us sleeping in the same bed. They liked you. You've got to calm down."
Beca blew out a breath. "Okay. Let's do this. But first…" she reached out and smoothed down Jesse's hair, the spiky tufts where she had gripped them in her eagerness to feel him. They straightened their clothes, checked a mirror to make sure it wasn't too obvious that they had been making out, and headed down the stairs.
A/N: *hopeful grin* I hope this was alright. I feel a bit rusty after the hiatus. Thank you all once more for having such wonderful patience.
