The Saturdays You Never Spent

Title: The Saturdays You Never Spent (Cha. 1)

Pairing: Jessie St. James/Kurt Hummel, Jessie St. James/Rachel Berry

Summary: Jessie's a decent guy once you get beyond all the crap he says and all the dumb things he does. Even this is sweet, in his own totally F'ed up kind of way.

Rating: T

Warnings: Spoilers for "Hell-O" and "The Power of Madonna"

Word count: 1500+

Author's Note: One random thought turned into something that actually should be quite the adventure. It started with Kurt being the knowledgeable one; the smart child who picks up on the little signs but no one ever listens to. This chapter was the first thing I wrote, but the direction of this forever changes.

Chapter One

"Rachel is still dating Jessie."

If life were a television show, the sound track of random teenagers harmonizing dramatic music would play right now. The camera would zoom in on your face (set, determined, and completely sure) then cut to the surprise on everyone else's. The unsure shifts of your companions are masked by the tampon and fast food ads that play every seven minutes. By the time the commercial ends, the pregnant girl is the focus.

"Kurt, what are you talking about?" Quinn asks.

You're pretty sure it's obvious what you're talking about. (She's blonde; she can take a little while to get it.)

"I know that walk, that peppy smile, and everything. Rachel is definitely still dating Jessie and it's going great," you report.

Finn shakes his head, adorably confused as always.

"She broke up with him. She told us that two weeks ago," he says.

"She lied," you say, "She didn't want to leave the group or the talented cute guy; it's not really hard to see where she was coming from. Or to see where she got the idea of lying to get what you want."

Blonde moment over, Quinn catches the dig. The three-second guilt look that crosses her face does little to even the score; you believe she should definitely pay after what she did to poor Finn. Then again, he was dumb enough to believe it.

"I don't believe you," Finn announces.

If you had boobs and a short skirt, he wouldn't question a single thing you said. (Shame drag just isn't in the cards.)

"Fine, don't believe me. Just sit and wait until the day you show up at Rachel's house with flowers and some heartfelt speech only to find her rolling on her bed with a guy with a lot less emotional baggage."

Finn's look is crushed, conflicted, and just a bit constipated. The camera turns to you, making sure every single audience member knows what victory looks like. And in comes the voiceover.

(Checkmate.)

^Jessie St. James^Kurt Hummel^Rachel Berry^

Warpaths make for the best music lead-ins. The determined stomping adds to the opening notes of a classic Disney song. It's very High School Musical, even if Jessie is singing Tarzan.

"Whatever you do, I'll do it too. / Show me everything and tell me how. / It all means something and yet nothing to me. / I can see there's so much to learn. / It's all so close and yet so far. / I see myself as people see me. / I just know there's something bigger out there."

"Excuse me," you bellow. It reverberates around the theatre in that magical way that always happens here. Principle Figgins should really think about fixing your auditorium.

"Closed room," Jessie calls from the stage.

"Wasn't so closed when Rachel came here," you retort.

"Special girlfriend privileges," he says.

"And what about me?"

"I really don't think there's any reason for you to be here," he says.

You roll your eyes and find they don't quite reach the ceiling quick enough.

"Nice place." (Sarcastic tone, though it is quite impressive.)

"Jealous?"

"A little."

"I meant of Rachel," he says.

"I didn't."

"Very short today," (Was that a height joke?) "I meant your answers, Kurt."

"Being tall is overrated," you say, "All it means is that when you slip and fall, it'll hurt more."

"Or it means that I'll always be the dominant one."

"Closer to the ground means-"

"Less time to get on your knees?"

(That would definitely be his job.)

A cool swipe of your bangs makes things better. (Not really.) You stifle a shuddering breath, and then proceed with your point.

"Jessie, you cannot continue dating Rachel," you say.

"So you are jealous?"

"I'm protecting my team. We can't have anything bad happening."

"What could I possibly do?" he asks.

"Pretty guy like you? I'm sure you can cause some problems."

"I could say the same to you."

"Only damage I'll be causing will be soiling the family name," you say.

"Been there, done that, sung a song about it," he kicks his legs off the stage, landing as gracefully as any man can, "Things get better. Keep the chin up, sport."

(Sport?) The most despicable of all pet names once again grates against your ears.

"My name is Kurt."

"Like I could forget. Between Rachel and the lovely memories, I know enough about you to write your life story."

"Well get to it then; I'd like to make the movie with enough time to still play my teenage self."

"How cute," he says.

(When did he get so close?)

You now have to raise your head to look into his eyes threateningly. The camera focuses in on the hitch of your breath and the way your Adam's apple bobs just a bit.

"Well, I said what I had to say," you say.

"I think you've got just a little bit more," he says before diving in.

It's now time for the horrible flashback to seventh grade. Once again you're the dorky kid in the macho two-sizes-too-big clothes your father insists you wear everywhere. Suzie Chellogh stares you down with her poo-colored eyes, waiting for you to draw a name out of the hat. (Whoever decided that you should pick the name of your partner out a hat, instead of spinning a bottle, should die.) The bile tickles your tongue while Amy announces just who you picked. In no time, Suzie attacks you, dragging you towards the closet for the worst seven minutes of your life.

You close your eyes tight, and there's a huge difference already. This time, the kiss is less wet, less brace-filled, and much less public. The poke of his tongue reminds you of eighth grade and that first French kiss. You'd thought you were the last person alive without a love life; and then, after a few minutes of pretending like Chemistry was the most fascinating subject in the world, you were introduced to what truly was.

Jessie's hands slide up your body until they reach your shoulders. He takes no time at all to shove you away from him.

"Rachel!" he calls.

"Rachel, I didn't mean a single--"

Your stumble becomes a swift turn yet you see absolutely nothing. Still breathless from the whirlwind apology (among other things), you look back to Jessie.

"She's not here," he says, "In the theatre at least. She 'went to the bathroom.'"

"Good God, Jessie!"

He smirks, fixing the collar of his shirt with a calm hand.

"Things get really simple from here, Kurt," Jessie begins, "I like Rachel, and you like your little glee club. You feel all responsible, so you'll leave this room in a huff, mad that I had the audacity to kiss you. You go back and tell everyone that Rachel is dating me, with proof this time. While you do that, I'll tell Rachel what just happened here."

"She'd slap you."

"Not if I tell her that you came onto me. Actually, better yet, I'll just dump her, tell her I was in it for only one thing and I figured it just wouldn't be too good with her anyway. She'll be crushed because she'll no longer be with me and then she'll go back and all of your friends will throw her out of the only thing she has left to live for. But wait, she's not with me anymore, surely she can stay, right? Wrong! Because, they don't trust her anymore. They think she's a liar. She has no one. Poor little Rachel will be nothing but a crushed, fallen star. You can't even comfort her since you were the jackass who kissed her totally straight, perfectly amazing boyfriend while she went to the bathroom to call the club and tell them her poodle has lung cancer."

(Is that even possible?)

Back at home, the audience remarks on how disgusting his personality is. All the while, silently hoping he will just sing another song to make them forget all about it.

(He is definitely not Tarzan.)

"What do you want me to do?" you ask.

"I want you to do nothing. You want you to take out that iPhone and delete the entire recording you took of this conversation. You wouldn't want any of this getting out," you do as he says and he asks, "Are all of you New Directions kids this easily manipulated, or is it just the pretty ones?"

You slap the drifting hand away from you.

The owner just laughs.

^Jessie St. James^Kurt Hummel^Rachel Berry^

The next time the audience sees you; you're sliding into the passenger seat of your car. Finn turns to you expectantly.

"Just drive," you tell him.

He listens like the adorably confused boy he is. As the car pulls from the lot, you wonder how much simpler life could be if it really were a television show, and some guy could just call "cut" and leave all of this drama to deal with in another week.

Author's Note: Thank you for reading. Please review.