Work Text:
“Pippin?”
“1972 Broadway, music and lyrics by Stephen Schwartz, book by Hirson.”
“Little Shop of Horrors?”
“1982, Off-Broadway, music – Alan Menken, lyrics, Howard Ashman. Book by Ashman, too,” her face scrunched up, questioning herself.
He nodded. “Barnum?”
“Uh…” she faltered. “Music: Coleman, lyrics: Stewart, book: Bramble. Broadway… Nineteen… eighty… four?” she answered.
“Nope, sorry, babe. 1980.”
Rachel let out of frustrated groan and crashed her head down on her open notebook lying on the table. “I can’t do it anymore, Jesse. I’m just going to fail. I’m going to fail and then they’re going to kick me out and I’m going to have to go back to Lima. Then I’ll have to get a retail job or something equally horrifying and I’ll probably die surrounded by seventeen cats.”
He threw his head back and chuckled at her hysterics. “You’re not going to fail. And even if you do, there’s no way I’m letting you go back to Lima. I’d miss you too much,” he said, leaning over to kiss her forehead.
“Jesse, stop,” she whined, jerking away from him slightly. “This is serious. I can’t concentrate on anything anymore. My brain is too small.”
Rachel had been studying for her Contemporary Musical Theatre History final for a week and a half and she was feeling hopeless. Her professor was a hardass: demanding exact dates and correct spelling. The only way she had made it through the week of her midterm was with approximately twenty gallons of Starbucks and less than ten hours of sleep.
Jesse had volunteered his evenings to help her study. He could’ve been doing anything else – going out for drinks with the cast mates of the Off Off-Broadway workshop he had landed, seeing an on Broadway show through one of his many connections – but instead he was with Rachel on the fourth floor of the New York Academy of Dramatic Arts’ library, running through facts and possible essay questions.
Tonight was the forth night in a row and it was already getting late. Rachel looked out the window, watching yellow taxicabs and brightly cloaked pedestrians make their way through the late fall rain. She would give just about anything to be out there, making her mark on the greatest city in the world. But first came her education, and her education unfortunately included exams.
“Do you want to take a break or something?” Jesse asked, interrupting her reverie. “I can go get some more coffee,” he offered, gesturing towards the collection of empty cups on the far end of the table.
“No, it’s fine,” she insisted. “I think one more drop of caffeine might give me ventricular fibrillation. My head is just so full of mush.”
“You know what helps me clear my head when I’m feeling overwhelmed?” he said.
Rachel moaned a sound of inquiry, her eyes closed and her head in her hands.
“An orgasm,” he said simply.
“Jesse!” she shrieked, a little to loud for the silent atmosphere of the study room, swatting at his arm.
“What?” he asked, amused.
“I am not— I am not going to masturbate in that disgusting bathroom, Jesse St. James,” Rachel said in a harsh whisper. “Have you been in there? The garbage can is overflowing and, no thanks, Kristen, I can have a good enough time without calling you.”
Jesse raised his eyebrows at her suggestively. “Who said anything about masturbating?”
Rachel laughed. The three lattes she had were really going to her head. “Jesse, let’s be serious. We don’t have the time to go back to my apartment. Plus my roommate is probably home. You just want to pop in for a quickie and ask her to leave?” She laughed again. “Just resume the questions.”
“No,” he said, standing up and grabbing her hand. “Come on.” He pulled her out of her seat, as she dropped the pen she was holding onto the pile of books.
“Jesse, oh my god, we can’t,” she said, realizing what he was doing. Still, she continued to follow him as her heart began to race. He led them through the stacks, past Japanese theatre and Italian opera, towards the last row of shelves. Rachel was giggling as her small legs worked to keep up with his.
The library was old and dim. Hardly anyone used actual books these days to write their papers or do research – most of the journals and news articles were on the library’s website. The study rooms were at least five rows away and most of the students had their earbuds plugged in. If they were quiet, Rachel knew it was unlikely they would be caught. But there was always a chance.
Jesse pushed her up against the shelves containing encyclopedias of dance, his mouth hard on hers. She kissed him back fiercely, her hand combing through his hair, pulling him closer. Her lips parted, granting him access, as she let out an involuntary moan.
“Shh,” he scolded. “Do you want to get caught?” he whispered into her ear.
She shook her head hastily, pulling her bottom lip in between her teeth. Her hands reached between them, fumbling with his belt before slipping into his jeans. She stroked him, feeling his cock get harder under her touch.
His mouth found its way down her neck, brushing his tongue lightly over the spot he knew was the most sensitive. Rachel responded, again, with a moan.
“You’re going to get us into trouble, Rach,” he muttered, before silencing her with his mouth on hers.
She continued to work her hands inside his pants, his erection growing, until he broke apart from her. She looked up at him, confused, until his hand reached up her skirt.
His nimble fingers quickly pulled aside the offensive fabric of her underwear, sliding a single digit between her slick folds. Rachel was impossibly wet already and Jesse smiled in satisfaction. He worked his fingers up and down, teasing her clit, as Rachel bit her lip in an attempt to stifle a moan.
“Jesse…” she panted, as he slid two fingers inside of her.
He hushed her again, “I’m starting to think you want to get caught, dear,” he drawled, as his thumb brushed over her clit. Jesse thrust his fingers in one, two more times before hooking them forward, sending her over the edge. His mouth silenced her just in time as she came around his fingers, her own fingers digging into his shoulders and her toes curling inside of her loafers.
As she recovered their lips crashed on each other. His tongue danced along her bottom lip before he pulled it between his own teeth, biting gently. She ran her hand up into his hair, grasping the curls and urging him closer towards her. His body pressed hers firmly against the bookshelf. She could feel his erection against her stomach causing her to whimper.
“Jesse, now, please,” she begged in a whisper.
Wasting no time, he pulled himself out of his jeans only pushing them down somewhat as Rachel hitched her leg around his waist. Pulling up her skirt and brushing her underwear aside, Jesse took his cock in hand and ran the head along her sensitive flesh. She sighed heavily in the crook of his neck, still oversensitive from her previous orgasm.
Cupping her face with his free hand, he pulled her lips to his as he entered her, preventing her from crying out. His thrusts were shallow, slowly building the momentum, as he brought his hand to her hip, fingertips digging at her skirt.
As Jesse moved inside her, Rachel began to moan, her leg guiding him closer. His hand reached up under her sweater, grasping at her breasts, spurring her on, as his other held onto the shelf seeking leverage.
She was close and she knew he could tell. Her stifled moans became louder before Jesse covered her mouth with his hand. His hips began to move more erratically, hers failing to keep up. Rachel came first with a breathy moan against his hand, even biting down on his ring finger. She clenched around him, causing him to follow, with buckling knees and a deep grunt against the top of her head.
They stood together, tangled, for a moment, Jesse leaning down to capture her swollen lips in a firm kiss. Their chests heaved together as they began to catch their breath.
Reluctantly, Rachel pulled her leg from around him, smoothing her skirt and adjusting her sweater. He zipped his fly and buckled his belt, grinning.
“Two orgasms, Rach. Your head should be extra clear now,” he said.
“Shut up,” she teased before running her hands through his hair, attempting to smooth down the curls she had messed.
“Come on, screamer,” he teased back. “You’ve got a final to ace.”
She took his hand, as they made their way back to their study table, drawing looks from a suspicious librarian and a two freshman boys who gave Jesse a thumbs up. He ignored them.
As they sat back down, Rachel bit down on her lip, her embarrassment catching up with her.
“I can’t believe we just did that,” she said, hiding her face behind her notebook.
Jesse reached across the table, lowering the notebook, his finger catching on her lip.
“You have no reason to be embarrassed. We’re young and in love, and both incredibly attractive. It’s a miracle we don’t have sex everywhere we go,” he said, before his eyes turned dark. “Plus, I know how much you get off knowing someone could walk by any moment.”
Rachel blushed, knowing he was right. She crossed her legs ignoring the throbbing she felt between them at the thought.
“You’re wet again, aren’t you?” he whispered across the table, knowingly.
She looked up at him and nodded.
“Fine, but you need to promise to be extremely quiet this time,” he said. “We are in a library.”
He pulled his chair around to her side of the table, under the guise of reading her notes. Discreetly he slipped his hand between her thighs, running the pads of his fingers along her soaked underwear.
Jesse circled her clit through the fabric as Rachel kept her head down pretending to memorize the original cast of Dreamgirls. It didn’t take much longer for her to come, biting at her lip in an attempt not to cry out.
He rode her through her third orgasm of the night before kissing her above the eye and wiping his fingers along her thigh.
“Okay,” he said, seizing the quiz sheet from the table. “Where were we?”
***
Two weeks later and Rachel had some how survived her finals. Her Acting for the Camera performance had gotten a standing ovation from her instructor and her Individual Voice solo had made her Tony-winning professor cry.
All she was waiting for were her grades. They were scheduled to be posted that Tuesday morning but she had received an email from her advisor detailing a delay – they wouldn’t go up until Friday evening.
Rachel was leaving for Ohio that weekend, and she and Jesse had made plans to have a date night before she left. She was only scheduled to be in Lima for a week and a half, but the couple had grown accustomed to each other in their daily lives. Just a day or two without each other put them both off-balance.
When Rachel finished her last day at her internship at the Broadway League, she bundled up and hopped in a cab eager to get to Jesse’s apartment on West 76th Street. She gave the driver the address and stared lovingly out the rain-covered window at the city that was made for her. There was no other place on earth where she could feel so challenged and yet so at peace.
She bit her lip, thinking about her results. NYADA was tough. She had never felt so exhausted and so exhilarated as she did when she was in her classes.
After her only written exam – Contemporary Musical Theatre History – she had felt fairly confident. She had been the first to complete the test. She had put the final touches on her essay comparing the themes of two musicals from the 1990s when she looked around and saw the rest of her classmates frantically scribbling away at their papers. She waited until two other people turned in their exams before turning hers and skipping out the door the call Jesse.
But as the days went by she began to second-guess herself. What if she had confused the themes of Godspell with those of Jesus Christ Superstar?
By the time the cab was rounding through Columbus Circle she was already making plans for her inevitable expulsion. Hopefully Jesse wouldn’t mind if she moved in earlier than they had previously discussed.
The cab pulled up to Jesse’s building as Rachel hastily handing the cabbie a twenty and scooted out her arms shielding her face from the icy rain. She rushed under the awning, where the doorman, who recognized her and her colorful coat, quickly opening the door with an “Evening, Ms. Berry.”
Jesse was waiting for her, opening the door eagerly without checking the peephole. He greeted her with a tender kiss as the air greeted her with an appetizing smell coming from the kitchen.
“I’m making a vegan eggplant rollatini. Your favorite,” he said, taking her coat off her shoulders.
Rachel thanked him but impatiently made her way towards the couch, pulling out her laptop and typing in the grading site.
“Rach,” he tried. “Would you stop worrying about that? I know you did excellent, probably better than anyone else in the class. Our study sessions went very well,” he said, cocking an eyebrow.
“This is no time for jokes, Jesse. This is my future – our future,” she said, refreshing the page.
“I know,” was all he could offer, as he took a seat next to her on the couch. His fingers intertwined with her free hand as she refreshed the page a final time.
Individual Voice……………………………………........ A
Dance and Movement for the Actor I……………….. A
Musicianship I………………………………………....... A
Acting for the Camera I……………………………...... A
Contemporary Musical Theatre History…………….. A
“Oh my god,” she squealed, embracing Jesse in a tight hug, peppering his face in light kisses. “I passed!”
“I told you those study techniques would pay off,” he said, laughing at her dramatics.
“I know, I know, I’m sorry I ever doubted you,” she said as her fingers wound through his hair, drawing his mouth to hers.
“What about dinner, Rach?” he asked.
“I don’t care,” she breathed as her lips crashed on to his, prompted by excitement.
He deepened the kiss, his tongue skimming along her lips as she opened further for him. They were all teeth and tongues until Rachel moved her hands down, making quick work of his pants.
She moved down, kneeling on the hard floor, as she stroked his cock. Her small hands wrapped around his girth firmly as his erection grew under her touch.
When he was hard, she dipped her head down, her tongue licking up the underside as he moaned above her and his fingers caught in her hair. She continued to tease him, swirling her tongue over the head before taking it into her mouth.
“Fuck, Rachel,” he groan, his hips bucking, seeking more.
Rachel opened her mouth wide, taking him in until he hit the back of her throat before pulling his cock out, her lips pursing across the head. She bobbed her head, her lips tight around him.
Jesse’s hands were on the back of her head, nudging her mouth down on to him faster. Getting the idea, Rachel swallowed him down her throat, her muscles constricting around him.
She could tell he was close, the way his breath began to hitch and how his hips jerked in a syncopated rhythm. Smiling to herself, she hummed a C scale around him, her eyes meeting his just before they closed as he came down the back of her throat, his hands clenching in her curls.
She stood up, wiping her lip with her fingertips as he adjusted his pants.
“What about dinner?” she asked, innocently.
Jesse got up to join her, his arms snaking around her waist. “It’ll be ready in about ten minutes,” he said, planting a kiss on her mouth.
“I guess I really did learn something this semester,” she said, catching his eye.
“What’s that?” he asked, his voice still faraway.
“Our study sessions really do work,” she giggled. “I can’t wait to try those techniques next semester.”
“Why do we have to wait until then?” he teased, his eyes darting towards the bedroom.
“Ten minutes, you said, right?”
He picked her up and raced towards the bedroom, as she looked out at the bright skyline that represented everything she had dreamed about, knowing it meant all the more now that she was sharing it with him.