Stage Whispers

...

Quinn doesn't care about show choir. Not even in the slightest. So why she's being dragged by Brittany to Lima Theatre to support members of the glee club is beyond her. The fact that she's in the backseat while Santana drives with the music on full volume as Brittany sings along already makes her the third wheel. But she knows if she has to force another polite yet meaningless conversation with her mother she really will go crazy so she goes along with it.

Santana parks the car and Quinn grudgingly follows as they make their way towards the theatre. Before they even reach the entrance she sees the very two people she's been trying to avoid.

"Good morning fellow glee clubbers, can I just say I'm honoured that you all have taken time out of your undoubtedly busy summer schedules to watch me..."

"Can it dwarf. We already have to hear you on stage; we don't need guided commentary too," spits out Santana.

Rachel looks up to Finn for support but he suddenly seems to be really interested in his watch. As Santana and Rachel continue to argue, Quinn spots Kurt and Blaine walking up towards them as well. She hopes that it's not an entire glee club reunion because honestly, summer has just started and while she may not have anything better to do, it doesn't mean she needs to see these people all the goddamn time. In trying to look past Rachel, she accidentally looks at Finn, who apparently has been trying to make eye contact with her for a while. When he gives her a crooked smile she literally wants to slap it off his face – she settles for ignoring him and rummaging through her purse instead.

"If you'll follow me, I'll show you to where I've saved your seats – I assure you I specifically picked them for maximum visibility of the stage. And of course when you applaud, the rest of the audience will be able to see how wonderfully loyal my fans are." As she's speaking, Rachel's hands are animatedly moving around her and Quinn doesn't bother hiding the eye roll.

"You mean friends. She means friends. Right Rach?" asks Finn putting an arm around her.

"Right, of course, my friends – it means so much to me that you're here." Rachel's blinks a couple times and gives everyone her borderline psychotic smile before taking Finn's hand and walking into the theatre.

"On the plus side, for probably the only time in our lives we'll have front row seats," mumbles Kurt.

"Yeah to a Rachel Berry concert. Seriously Britt, why the fuck did you make us come here?" asks Santana.

"Rachel paid me fifty dollars and said there would be free ice cream. It's really hot so...I thought you guys would like it."

Wanting to put some distance between herself and the happy couples, Quinn takes Santana's keys and excuses herself to leave cardigan in the car.

When she looks up, she can't believe her eyes.

Jesse St. James.

He's walking towards the theatre as well and despite her better instincts, she decides to approach him. "Jesse," she calls, shutting the car door and moving towards him.

He spins around and if he's surprised to see her, he covers it up very quickly. "Quinn, it's always nice to see a familiar face. Are you here for the show?"

"Yeah."

"You're in luck; I think it'll be a good one," he says, smiling a little too smugly for her liking.

"Is that so? After the way Rachel cast you aside, I'd have thought you'd be licking your wounds in Akron." So...maybe she's just talking to him because he's the only viable outlet for her pent up bitch.

"Now now, Quinn, there's no need to be rude. We barely know each other," he says, still grinning. He doesn't seem the slightest bit affected by her comment and this really bothers her. His cockiness and calm manner only serve to irritate her even more.

"The only thing I don't know about you is whether you're more stupid for taking the trouble to follow Rachel all the way here or because you still believe you have a chance with her," she snaps.

He narrows his eyes and smiles coldly. "That's funny coming from you. From what I heard it took being ditched at a funeral for you to finally accept that the giant had eyes for someone else." Her glare weakens and she breaks eye contact knowing that she has no comeback to that. She really hates that it's still a sore subject for her. Jesse continues talking, not letting her dwell on Finn much longer. "And by the way, I didn't follow Rachel anywhere. But it is interesting to know she's here."

This is the exact opposite of what Quinn intended and suddenly she's not so keen on mocking him anymore. She feels her phone vibrate and she sees that Santana has sent her a text.

If you've driven off Q, I will fucking never speak to you again.

"I have to go, the show's going to start soon," Quinn says as she starts to walk away from him, flicking her hair behind her. It's not as effective now that her hair just brushes past her jawline.

"I'm sure you'll enjoy it. You see...I'm performing."

Quinn gives him her dirtiest look before storming into the theatre.

Turns out Rachel isn't opening the show, in fact her duet with Finn isn't even in the first half. Blaine is however, and Quinn has to admit, he's pretty good. Kurt's sitting beside her, eyes wide in adoration, and she tries not to let the fact that he's so smitten bug her too much. But really, how is it fair that he has a boyfriend and she doesn't?

After Blaine's done, she drifts in and out of consciousness as other people have their five minutes in the spotlight – the only thing keeping her awake is the constant sound of Santana filing her nails next to her. It's not until a piano's is wheeled onto stage that she sits up and starts paying attention again.

Jesse walks out, dressed in a navy blue shirt, black slacks and black suspenders to match. He sits at the piano and after taking a steely glance at his audience, begins to play. She's only seen him perform once before, right before their choir room had been trashed, but then she'd just thought of him as the obnoxious male diva that was crazy (stupid) enough to love Rachel Berry.

He's focused solely on the piano, fingers gliding over the keys as he sings. This is the longest amount of time she's actually paid attention to someone singing a solo and it's probably because of the sheer emotion that's kind of radiating off him; Rachel squeezing out tears doesn't even come close. Every now and again his eyes shut and when he presses down on the pedals it's like his whole body is moving in time with the music. Despite all the awful things he said to her outside she can't look away; in fact thinking of those things only seems to make it worse. When he pulses back and forth she crosses her legs, shifts uncomfortably in her seat and to her horror, feels a flood of warmth between her legs. It's like his voice has a direct effect on her – down there – and when he hits that note she literally shivers.

It's ridiculous. And embarrassing.

The blush is rapidly rising to her cheeks and she unconsciously sinks lower in her chair, hoping that neither Santana nor Kurt notice. When Jesse holds the final note his face relaxes and his fingers trail almost idly over the keys. It's only when she hears Kurt's half-hearted clapping that she realises it's over. Jesse stands up to give everyone a curt smile and she's not sure whether he actually looks straight at her or she just imagines it. Either way, it bothers her and she needs to do something about it.

The balding MC further brings Quinn out of her daze by announcing that there's a ten minute interval but she keeps her eyes on Jesse as he goes off stage.

"I know you hate him Kurt, but I have to admit...he's got style," whispers Blaine who's now joined them.

Kurt promptly glares at his boyfriend.

Quinn doesn't hear the rest of what they say because she excuses herself to go to the bathroom as soon as possible. When she's sure she out of everyone's line of sight, she makes an about turn and heads straight backstage. A security guard tries to stop her but she quickly makes up a story about how she's Rachel friend, smiles extra sweetly and he lets her through.

And then she sees him. Just as he disappears into one of the small dressing rooms.

"I can't believe that douche is here," says Finn angrily as he paces backstage. Rachel's still staring at the piano where Jesse had just been sitting and Finn has to take a hold of her elbow to get her to look at him. "How did he know we were here?"

"I don't know Finn." She looks up at him and takes his hands in hers. "Can we just forget about Jesse? We're up next and I want us to be great."

He decides to drop it and grins down at her, his hands encircling her waist. "We'll be awesome. I mean you're singing with me aren't you?"

She smiles back and leans up on tiptoes to kiss him before leading him towards the stage.

Quinn slowly pushes the door open, but she has no time to think about what she's going to say because Jesse has already noticed and is staring at her. "Look who's following whom," he muses, raising an eyebrow and giving her a lazy grin.

She forces a smile before stepping inside and shutting the door behind her. "Well we were interrupted before – you should know that Finn loved me before you decided to show up and make him think otherwise."

As she's speaking he leans back against the dressing table and casually gives her a once over. "I don't care about anything to do with him," he shrugs.

"Not even Rachel?"

She sees his jaw clench and finally, she's hit a nerve. "Why are you really here Quinn? I doubt it's just to talk about Finn or Rachel. Unless...you're here to compliment me on my performance. In that case, go ahead, I'd never deny an admiring fan." And just like that he's recovered, smirking at her yet again.

It's like she just can't win with him and despite herself, she lets out a frustrated groan. "God you are such an arrogant ass."

"So I've been told." He pushes off the table and moves closer to her, a lot closer and she's instantly made uncomfortable by the invasion of her personal space. She takes a few steps backwards, but the dressing room is small and there's only so much distance that can be put between them.

"Rachel's singing with Finn next," she says and while she's saying it to taunt him, it comes out as barely a whisper.

"I'm aware." His voice is also deadly quiet and Quinn is suddenly aware of how warm she feels.

They're staring each other down and she'll be damned if she breaks eye contact first again.

"So –" she takes in a deep breath "– how long do you think they'll take?"

His eyes narrow and she sees something dangerous flicker in them. "Including the rest of the intermission and the fact that Rachel's a sucker for applause no matter how dreadful the audience, I'd say –" his tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip "– about twelve minutes."

A few people clap as Cabbage Patch and his troll take the stage. Santana barely looks up at them and decides to put her feet up on the seat in front of her, just in case Rachel can't see how many fucks she gives. The gasbag sitting there turns around to say something, but she gives him her well practised Lima Heights Adjacent look and he backs off. Fuck yes, lesbian or not, she's still got it.

Now seriously, where the fuck is Quinn?

They're not really friends but they're not enemies anymore either and though Santana doesn't know what the hell that even means, Brittany's happy because of it. Sure Brittany's too nice to see Quinn for the raging bitch she is, but Santana's just made serious inroads in her friendship (relationship?) with Britt since school ended and while she's fucking shitting herself at the thought of coming out, Virgin Mary isn't going to screw it up for her.

The whole point of this shit is to rub it in that Quinn is the only one without a boyfriend. Or girlfriend. Whatever. Quinn had asked (forced) Santana and Brittany to go on loads of 'group dates' to Breadstix with her and Finn often enough and some passive aggressive payback was totally due. For her to skip out on this? Fucking not cool.

Stupid bitch.

Jesse slams Quinn against the dressing room door and she barely has time to turn the lock before he's kissing her rougher than she's ever been kissed before. No boy would dare to put his hands on Quinn Fabray like that, duel with her tongue and force his thigh between hers without so much as a second thought. She can barely breathe from how hard his entire body is pushing against hers but every time she feels like forcing him away (because this is so much more than she bargained for) she thinks of his asshole comments, how he looked up on stage and most of all how he cockily stares her down like no one else has ever done and suddenly she can't form a coherent thought anymore. He tastes vaguely of mint and it's sweet, the exact opposite of how he's kissing her; he takes her bottom lip between his teeth and nips at it before going back to exploring her mouth.

She groans again, half in frustration because he breaks the kiss, half in pleasure as he shifts his attention to her jaw line and she starts grinding down onto his thigh trying to get some form of relief. "It's your fault. It's all your fucking fault." Quinn moans, pulling one of his suspenders towards her when she feels him kissing her neck. "Why did you have to come back?" She lets go of the suspender so that it snaps against his skin. He lets out a soft growl before retaliating and biting down on her shoulder. "Not so hard, you'll leave a mark," she protests, despite the fact that his ministrations are sending jolts of pleasure down to her core.

"Oops. Too late."

Rachel looks on as Finn sings to her with a big smile on his face. She smiles back and immediately feels awful because she knows she's using just a little bit of her acting prowess to do it. She joins in for the chorus and walks to the opposite side of the stage, projecting her voice towards the audience.

Singing duets with her boyfriend is still one of her absolute favourite things to do. In fact she plans to do a lot more with him during senior year; she'll make him better at everything and then maybe, maybe he'll be able to go somewhere in New York. Even New York State. Because she is most definitely not wasting her time with Finn.

It's not like she's talked to him in weeks anyway. He'd sent her a couple of texts but she hadn't replied and eventually he'd just...stopped. When she saw him singing and playing some of the most beautiful music she's heard (yes she can admit that) she was sure he'd come to wish her luck or something. Anything.

But no. He hadn't even bothered to look at her before she went on and she knows he knows she's there. Jesse's presence technically shouldn't bother her.

But why didn't he at least say hello?

Jesse's suspenders hang limply at his sides and his shirt lays discarded somewhere at their feet. He slides the straps of her sundress down her shoulders and pulls the dress down to her waist, exposing her white bra. He breaks away from her (she's more than pleased to see he's breathless) and she's surprised when he stops his assault to tenderly trace her collarbone with his finger. Jesse quirks an eyebrow in amusement at the gold cross that hangs down her chest but before she can say something to defend herself, he's running the same finger between her breasts and she's shuddering. It's been ages since she's been touched and it feels amazing.

"You are stunning," he says meeting her gaze.

She looks into his darkened blue eyes and tells herself, repeatedly, that the only reason she's blushing is because she's just as turned on as he is. Her hands are literally shaking and it takes all sorts of concentration on her part to undo his belt without looking down to see what she's doing. The last thing she wants him to think is that she's nervous.

She places a tentative kiss to his shoulder and breathes in the heady scent of his cologne. Quinn looks at him one more time then starts to kiss her way down his chest, running a finger appreciatively over the red mark where the suspender had smacked into his skin, before going lower.

In Kurt's eyes this is definitely one of the best days of the summer. Even better than when he went to Six Flags, sat on his first roller coaster and ate disgusting fair food just for Blaine. He would address his boyfriend's penchant for fried dough soon enough.

So maybe Finn and Rachel doing a love song is a little clichéd but his step-brother is happy and it's so much better than seeing him mope all around the house. For one thing he doesn't spend all his time in front of the television blowing up...stuff. And maybe Kurt's reasons for being in a good mood are a little selfish, and so what, this is his first time being in a relationship and he's entitled to want Blaine all to himself.

Because his boyfriend does not need to join Finn in shooting said stuff.

Quinn keeps her eyes on his face the entire time. Even when she's trying to forget that she's never done this with anyone before – not with a boyfriend or with a boy she was cheating with. His brow is furrowed and she can see the beads of sweat forming on his skin. He's fighting to maintain eye contact and the thought that this conceited jerk is slowly losing control because of her is well, exhilarating. God is going to smite her. If she wasn't sure before, now she's knows that she's going to hell. And yet, as her fingers trail over his abdominals, Quinn finds herself wishing she'd had the sense to date a dancer before.

Somewhere in all the fogginess, she can hear Finn singing.

Finn spins Rachel around and wraps her in his arms as he finishes his verse. Not even Jesse St. Suckface with his stupid voice that has more range and his stupid piano and his stupid hair can ruin this. Rachel is his girlfriend and they're happy together. Enough said.

He doesn't even mind all the extra singing – they always practise in her bedroom and if he's lucky, which (apart from the whole losing Nationals thing) he is, singing usually leads to better, hotter things.

He shoots his glee club friends a goofy smile as Rachel takes over. To top it all off, Quinn's here too, he can see her blonde head resting on Santana's shoulder, which means she can't be all that mad at him anymore.

Jesse has always known his voice works wonders with women. It was the reason that he'd gotten a Vocal Adrenaline senior to sleep with him when he was just an auditioning freshman. It had made sure he was without a doubt Shelby's favourite student. It was also the very thing that had made Rachel trust and ultimately love him.

But that doesn't mean he isn't surprised to find himself more or less naked in a cramped dressing room with Quinn Fabray. And that's not even including the fact that the queen bee is on her knees before him.

The feeling of her hot mouth around him is incredible and is sending him over the edge a lot faster than he would like; he needs to stop her because he sure as hell isn't going to be done with Quinn this quickly. He tangles his fingers in her hair and pulls her back up towards him just before she takes his face in her hands, crushing their lips together again. He searches her back for a clasp and is beyond frustrated when he can't find it. "Front," she chokes out between kisses and he grins against her lips before deftly unhooking her bra.

He pulls back to admire her, something he had never done back when he had been forced to waste away with the New Directions. He had noticed she was pretty, of course, but never approached her in case he accidentally made a snide comment about her life choices.

She had been pregnant after all, and he wasn't that much of a jackass.

Having Puckerman as the father was probably punishment enough anyway. He'd seen her at McKinley's god awful prom as well and while she hadn't been carrying around a beach ball, she was voluntarily attached to the lumbering oaf Hudson and in Jesse's eyes that was infinitely worse.

But now that she's standing in front of him, lips swollen, breathing hard and fiery eyed, he has to admit she is absolutely gorgeous.

He ghosts a thumb along her exposed nipple and he's glad to see the goose bumps that immediately cover her skin. He dips his head and lets his tongue circle her nipple without actually touching it. "Jesse..." she moans and he feels her tug a handful of his hair in an effort to press him even closer to her. His hand cups her other breast, thumb firmly circling her nipple and this coaxes out yet another wonderful moan from her.

If they had more time he'd definitely go about teasing her some more but he can tell that Rachel's already halfway through the verses so he complies by biting down on Quinn's breast. He hears her inhale sharply just before he sucks the hardened peak into his mouth and soothes it with his tongue.

He kisses her deeply again and despite her pleasure laden state, she fights him for dominance just as readily as she had done when they first kissed. He's enjoying this far more than he'd like to acknowledge, because it's not often that a girl tries to defy him for this long; once again he has to remind himself that they're short on time. He grips her slim waist to stop her rolling hips and his hands slide up her dress, along her silky skin, until he finds the waistband of her panties.

He looks at her briefly, just to make sure she's okay with all of this and again he's met with her icy glare. "Come on St. James, I haven't got all day," she pants, eyes narrowed.

Well then, no need for pleasantries.

Without any warning he slips two fingers inside her and she gasps so loud the sound reverberates around the room.

"How long has it been Quinn?" he asks and smirks for added effect.

"Fuck you." Her head lolls back as he curves his fingers upwards.

"You will. But all in good time."

She groans in a way that tells him she's exasperated, which is good, because that's exactly how he likes her. It takes him a few seconds to find a rhythm because shit, for a girl who's given birth she is tight. He figures it's probably something to do with her born-again virginity but she's unbelievably wet and because of the way she's pulsing around him, he can't bring himself to concentrate long enough to give it a second thought.

"Has Hudson ever touched you like this?" he asks, not because of this twisted battle of wills that they're having but more out of curiosity. He waits for her answer and watches her intently; her eyes are squeezed shut, arms encircled around his neck and when he thrusts into her another soft gasp escapes her lips.

"No."

There's an odd stirring within him but he ignores it and presses his thumb into her clit in slow, steady circles. Her breath catches in her throat and the noise sends a jolt down his spine. "Good."

"Has Rachel ever –"

"Never."

Her green eyes flutter open and for a second Jesse gets the overpowering urge to say something more; he decides against it and adds a third finger to stop her from talking as well. He picks up the pace, moving his hand, and as her hips rock against him she seems to be trying to stifle the sounds that are escaping her lips – it's almost as though she's determined to prove to him that's she's not enjoying this.

And all of a sudden, he's equally determined to show her otherwise.

Quinn doesn't know how she let it get this far. She really doesn't. But right now, as long as Jesse's fingers stay buried deep inside her, she doesn't care. She can feel his erection pressing into her and somehow she isn't totally grossed out by it; if anything she's kind of pleased, knowing that she's caused his body to react that way. She nibbles on his neck experimentally (because she's never even considered actually biting someone before) and when she hears him moan appreciatively she continues, stopping every now and then to go over the area with her tongue.

"Careful Quinn, I wouldn't want you to get ahead of yourself," he says and without even looking at him, she can tell he's smirking. She bites his skin hard and he lets out a low growl. She's so pleased by his reaction that she completely misses him pulling out his fingers and soon he's sliding into her, hissing as his cock sinks in deeper.

She's uncomfortably full and he seems to pick up on this because he pulls one of her knees up to his waist, giving her time and space to adjust. Quinn silently gives thanks for all the years of gymnastics because otherwise, she absolutely would have pulled something by now.

Jesse kisses her, his tongue pushing past her lips and aggressively thrusting against her own, in stark contrast to the slow movements of his hips. Quinn relaxes a little and attempts to move against him; again he throws her for a loop by taking a hold of her hips and hoisting her off the ground. Both her legs automatically wrap around him and she's astonished by how easily he's holding her up against the door. He seems to be satisfied with her level of comfort because his thrusts instantly become more forceful and pleasure surges through her body as he bumps up against the sensitive bundle of nerves inside.

The irony that's he's fucking Quinn while Rachel sings her little heart out with Finn is not, by any means, lost on him.

In fact Jesse almost hopes they do hear them; Quinn is now certainly doing her part to make sure of it. If all the delightful noises coming from her weren't making him so hot, he'd remind her that a theatre in Ohio most definitely does not have the budget to make a dressing room soundproof.

Her first time had definitely hurt but what Quinn's feeling now is some wonderful, perverse mix of pain and pleasure. Puck is probably the most experienced guy at McKinley and in tenth grade she had decided that if she was going to get back at Finn for joining glee club, she might as well make it a pleasant experience. And sure, even though she had just lain there, afraid, he knew what he was doing and he knew where to touch her to make things a little better.

But God it had not felt like this with Puck.

For one thing she had been tipsy and lying on her comfortable bed, telling him exactly what she would and wouldn't do. Not with a metal handle jutting into her back, her head bumping into the door with each forceful thrust. To make it worse, Jesse has her whimpering.

"My God Quinn," he breathes into her ear. "You feel good. So fucking good."

Her only response is an obscenely loud, guttural moan and as he thrusts into her a little harder, she knows she's just stroked his already large ego.

"Why haven't we done this before?" He nips her earlobe and tugs it causing her to make another incoherent sound somewhere deep in her throat.

"Because you were dating the girl I hate and I was dating the boy you think is a constipated zombie," she says breathlessly.

"Oh right. That." He licks and sucks her neck before pulling her close for another kiss to silence them both as they neared their ends. He's gripping her hips so tightly, she knows he'll leave more bruises and she's pretty sure the entire door is rattling as he slams into her again and again and again.

"Jesse, ah –" There's a clenching deep in her gut and all of a sudden, it's as though every single nerve in her body is ablaze. Her eyes snap shut, her toes curl and she digs her nails deep into Jesse's shoulders as her muscles begin to twitch uncontrollably around him. Finn and Rachel's last almost perfectly harmonised note is drowned out by the loud rushing in her ears.

Jesse suddenly breaks the kiss and a look crosses his face – one she recognises from when he was with the piano on stage – his head falls to her shoulder and his thrusts become increasingly erratic before he too goes over the edge, whispering a mix of swear words and her name.

They stay like that for a while, not saying anything. She can feel his warm breath against her skin, coming out in short pants and her own breathing is hardly normal. Then all of a sudden he's kissing her again, but this time it's slow and tender as she struggles to come down from her euphoric high. He gently runs a hand along her thigh before unwrapping her legs from around his waist and setting her back down. Her face rests in the crook of his neck, inhaling the thick musk of sweat and sex and she's clinging onto him as tightly as possible – if she lets go her legs may just give way under her.

He pulls back and presses warm opened mouthed kisses along each collarbone before slowly sliding the straps of her dress back up. She's regained a little bit of her senses and it's only when she feels his lips against hers again that she fully realises what's just happened. What the repercussions will be. She pushes him away and hastily tugs her dress back down.

"Quinn what the –"

"Shit." She stumbles away from him and steadies herself against the small dressing table. When she looks up in the mirror, Quinn barely recognises herself. Strands of her hair are sticking out at different angles, her lips are swollen and a pink flush has crept up her neck and into her cheeks.

She makes a vain attempt to flatten her hair and smooth the rumples in her dress so that when she inevitably meets the others it doesn't look like she's walked through a whirlwind. As the flush begins to fade she sees the angry red marks (bites?) on her neck and shoulder that could never pass off as curling iron burns. Damn her shorter hair.

"I'd apologise but really it's your own fault," he says from behind her. In the mirror she sees him watching her as he does up his pants – she can't bring herself to look him in the eye and his nonchalance is all kinds of irritating.

Her bra is hanging off the table and she hastily stuffs it into her purse. "Look this...you...I...I don't even...I have to go," she mutters pushing past him and unlocking the door.

"I think you're forgetting something Quinn."

She turns around to face him; his normally perfect curls are plastered to his forehead and his breathing is still a little heavy but the smirk has returned to his face. His eyes dart down to the floor and when she sees what he's looking at, her own eyes widen. "Turn around."

He raises his eyebrows in amusement. "Really? There's not much more left for me to see."

"Maybe, but I intend to leave here with dignity," she says, holding her chin up to prove her point.

He laughs and she knows what she has just said sounds stupid but whatever, she's totally still in control. "Dignity's overrated you know."

"Turn around St. James."

He rolls his eyes but complies anyway and begins to slide on his shirt. She gets a brief glimpse of the deep crescent grooves that her nails have left behind across both his shoulders. So they'd both be feeling this tomorrow. (And the day after.) She quickly retrieves her panties off the floor and slips them on; trying to make sure he doesn't sneak a peek in the mirror.

Quinn hears a shrill voice outside. "Hold on Finn, we can get something to eat later, we might be called up for an encore." Suddenly the handle turns and Jesse has to step back as the door opens.

She sees him first, eyes widening before she puts on what Quinn presumes to be her show face. "Jesse," Rachel nods briskly, "I admit I was surprised to see you, I'm here with Finn you know, but your performance was...very good."

"Hi Rachel," he drawls. "Sorry I didn't catch you up there."

The brunette's face falters and Quinn, in trying to hide behind him, only manages to attract attention to herself. "Oh Quinn, you're...here? I thought you'd be in the audience, did you miss my duet too?"

She hopes that being a virgin Rachel can't smell the sex on them because Jesse, with his suspenders still swinging at his sides and his rakish grin, is not doing them any favours. Quinn's hand surreptitiously creeps up to her neck as she thinks of what she can possibly say to get herself out of this; Jesse is clearly enjoying the awkwardness of the moment.

Bastard.

Rachel is looking at her expectantly, just as flustered as Quinn is. "I uh - I wanted to tell Jesse I thought he did a good job," Quinn says in what she hopes is a casual voice.

"Just good?" he asks, eyes narrowing mischievously.

What a bastard.

It takes nearly all her self control not to blush and she forces herself to look directly at him. "Well I'm not as easily pleased as others. Maybe an encore will change my mind," she shrugs.

But really, when did she get so bold?

It's Jesse's turn to look surprised, though he quickly recovers and the corners of his lips curve upwards devilishly almost instantly afterwards. "Of course, I wouldn't dream of not returning the favour."

She's not even going to justify that with a response. Before Rachel can get in a word either, Quinn moves past her and out into the corridor. Jesse may be in the mood to gloat but she isn't. Especially not about sex.

"Oh and Rachel?" Quinn glances over her shoulder to look at the girl who's still blinking owlishly. "I quit glee club, so don't ever try and bring me to one of these things again."

When Rachel walks into the dressing room, it is just too good. Sure his banter with Quinn is cut short, and he really hates to admit how much fun it is, but it's not as if they had time for round two anyway. The only way it could have been better is if Hudson had walked in instead. While he still had Quinn naked and pressed up against him.

He watches her walk away, determinedly so, and he turns to continue talking to Rachel.

Then he sees Finn further away, talking to Hummel and looking as useless as ever and he immediately feels like stabbing something. Maybe his own eyes.

Jesse hates what his own life has become. He hates that he had to train the most pathetic show choir he had ever seen because it was the only way for him to save face. He hates that he watched Rachel kiss Finn on stage and was effectively cast as a recurring role, overlooked in favour of a impotent buffoon. He really hates that Vocal Adrenaline won the fifth title anyway, without him. But most of all he hates that he's stuck in Lima, putting everything into one performance for a half empty decrepit third-rate theatre full of talentless Midwestern losers.

Every single fucking thing about this year sucks and there's one person in whose eyes he sees the exact same hatred. And it makes him feel better. It's maybe even enough of a reason to see her again.

Out of the corner of his eye he can see blonde hair getting further away.

Rachel's brown doe eyes are still looking at him imploringly and for the first time, it makes Jesse angry. Unlike him, she is perfectly fine with being here and honestly, it's fucking stupid. He just doesn't get it. The only thing worse is that she's content sharing her stage with Hudson and that she's deluded herself into thinking that she can work him into her dreams of being a star. She can't. Finn Hudson is Lima.

She may be willing to settle for something less than the best but Jesse isn't. He needs to get the fuck out of Ohio, like right now, no matter the cost.

Quinn sits in the backseat, having skipped out on the rest of the performances, cardigan wrapped tightly around her. There is no way in hell she's letting Santana figure out where she disappeared to. She's still kind of in shock at what she has just done so she just stares absentmindedly into the distance with the window rolled down. A figure running towards her catches her eye and when she focuses on it she realises it is Jesse.

"Quinn wait up." He's a little out of breath having chased her and she's instantly reminded of how he looked in the dressing room. His suspenders are still undone; she frowns at them because she swears they're mocking her. "Were you being serious back there?"

"About what?"

"About me returning the favour...because...I'd be more than willing." She can't decipher to look on his face and while his features soften a little as he speaks, his eyes are as alert as ever, piercing her own.

"Why?"

"Well if that –" he gestures back to the theatre "– was anything to go by, I think we'd get along pretty well. Maybe we'll even have dinner first. I'll pay of course." He smiles again and raises his eyebrows at her.

She really hates the way her lips twitch and she knows he's seen it before she can hide it. Nevertheless, she tries to copy his casual manner and straightens herself up to face him. "Well...seeing as I don't have any plans for the rest of the summer, it'd be a nice distraction. I'll think about it." She shrugs and gives him her phone.

Wait, did she really just agree to that?

He laughs quietly as he types in his number. "I'm taking that as a yes." He winks and hands over her phone before moving past her towards his own car. Her cardigan slips down her shoulder and in the rear-view mirror she can see the dark hickies that he's marked her with. Suddenly she gets the urge to watch Jesse as he walks away; she just knows he's wearing that shit-eating grin.

You think really think you're all that, don't you?

Author Note: Well that's that. I feel the compulsive need to fill the world with more St. Fabray because well, I think a Jesse and Quinn relationship would be all kinds of epic. This multi-perspective thing is experimental and I've never written anything like it. Hopefully I've written everyone in character and you all enjoy it. Please leave reviews and let me know what you really think. I can take it :)