Hello! After writing the Samchel/EvanBerry two-shot I decided that I really wanted to try my hand at writing a multi-chap fic for them. It might crash and burn, but that's fine with me. :P
The story is very AU. This first chapter is more of a set-up to get everyone understanding what the major storyline is going to be. I don't know if there has been a story like this written before; if there has then I apologize for the unoriginal concept.
Review if you'd be interested in this being continued! :D
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.
He was careful to not stretch the moment after his eyelids fluttered open. He knew that any sudden movement might cause the girl in his arms to wake up, something he didn't want to happen yet. Brown locks immediately clouded his vision. The brunette's head was resting lightly on his bare chest, her arm draped across his abdomen. He felt happiness rush through his veins at the prospect of being the guy who was getting to hold her. Their moments together were few and far between causing him to truly treasure the time they had alone.
"Good morning," her husky voice, laced with sleep, whispered before pressing a chaste kiss to the skin below his jaw. He ignored the rush of sadness he felt knowing that their time together was about to end. Instead of bringing down the atmosphere, he growled playfully before pecking the top of her head. "Did you sleep well?"
"Always when I'm holding you," he responded. The brunette finally pulled out of his arms and sat back on the bed to look at Sam with sad eyes. "I wish we could fall asleep together every night," he whispered sadly before reaching out to trace the line of her jaw. Rachel sighed before pulling away, taking the sheet with her. He resisted the urge to cover himself up, knowing that it was just Rachel-the girl who had seem him naked plenty of times.
"You know that I'm doing the best that I can, Sam," Rachel called out to him. He fought the urge to roll his eyes. They had, on more than one occasion, had that exact same conversation. It only led to his heart being torn apart and Rachel in tears. He'd rather have his arm cut off than have to be the cause of Rachel's tears.
"Last night was awesome though, right?" He asked, hoping that he didn't sound too incredibly insecure. Sometimes he just wanted reassurance that the girl he was head over heels in love with still felt the same about him. "You had a good time?" The brunette turned around with a smirk in place before making her way back over to the bed.
"A very good time," she whispered before straddling his waist and connecting their lips. He ignored the fact that he probably had morning breath and deepened the kiss, moaning when tongue met tongue. Almost immediately the kiss slowed down and turned into something else. For Rachel it was her way of showing Sam that she was on the same playing field as he. Sam pulled away sheepishly when he felt a stirring in his nether regions and was certain his arousal was going to begin showing. "We have time for another round," Rachel whispered upon realizing why Sam had abruptly ended the kiss. A cell phone ringing brought Sam out of his Rachel-induced high. He reached for the girl's iPhone before looking at the missed call.
"No we don't," Sam whispered before handing the phone to Rachel. "I'm going to go take a shower," he added with finality, ignoring the pained looked on the brunette's face. He didn't stick around to see her look at her own phone with a broken expression.
He made sure that he locked the door behind him so that Rachel would know he wasn't in the mood for conserving water. If anything he thought the shower was a pretty manly place to cry. It wasn't like crying in the middle of the streets where everyone who passed by would think he was insane and call the cops. He could just be alone with shampoo and a toilet bowl. It was everything a guy wanted around when crying. And he kind of felt like crying.
He ignored the stupid inner monologue his brain was having and instead turned the shower on, letting the water get scalding before stepping inside. The hot water eased some of the tension out of his muscles and relaxed him, somewhat sending all of his worries away. He grabbed the small bar of soap the hotel had provided and lathered himself down, scrubbing away all of the remnants of Rachel. He then moved on to his hair. He reached for the miniature shampoo bottle and gave it a quick sniff, grimacing at the smell. He had yet to find a hotel that provided shampoo that didn't smell like old people. He proceeded to wash his hair anyway all while deciding a haircut was in order. His hair had already grown out past his Justin Beiber type locks and was making its way on to borderline hippie.
Rachel had yet to comment on it. She probably didn't even notice.
He let his head rest against the shower wall upon thinking of Rachel. How had everything gotten so messed up?
He brushed the metaphorical chip from his shoulder away and turned the shower water off. He grabbed the towel from the sink and wrapped it around his waist before looking into the fogged mirror. "It'll work itself out, Dude," he told the blobbed reflection of himself.
He opened the bathroom door and made his way back into the room to find Rachel seated on the bed, legs crossed and eyes puffy. "What's wrong?" He asked, voice steady to mask the concern he truly felt. "Are you okay?"
"Fine," she snapped before turning to face the window on the opposite side of the room. He chuckled, clearly able to see through her lies but let the subject drop. He made his way over to the other side of the room where his previous night's clothing had been thrown. He pulled the frayed jeans on before grabbing the flannel shirt and buttoning it. "I'm sorry that this is hard for you, Sam," Rachel explained from the bed. He chose not to comment. "What do you want me to do?"
"You know what I want you to do," he replied before turning around slowly. He made sure to not make eye contact with her and instead looked for his shoes. "Do you know where my shoes are?" He was met with silence.
He knew he was acting immature, but he was only 23. That kind of meant he could still act childish sometimes. Well, he thought it made sense anyway.
"I can't do that yet, Sam." He knew that. She always said that. "You told me that you understood." He sighed before looking at the girl.
"I do understand, Rachel. I knew what I was getting into when things started." Rachel nodded. "It still hurts me though." He spotted his tennis shoes lying under the top Rachel had been wearing the day before. He shook images of the things they had done the previous night away and instead began to ease the shoes on.
"Sam, please don't go yet. We never spend any time together. I don't have anywhere to be until noon. We could get breakfast together." Sam scoffed.
"You mean we could be served breakfast by the hotel people," he corrected. Rachel bit her lip. "I need to go anyway. I think I'm going to get a hair appointment or something." Rachel looked him over.
"Your hair is really long," she agreed. He knew she hadn't noticed it. How could she notice anything when all she was worried about was keeping up appearances? "Will you call me later?" She questioned once she realized he really wasn't going to stay. He was ready to say no, even though spending time away from her was going to be the death of him. He really was going to tell her that she needed to focus on other things, like him, he thought with disgust.
But that didn't work out.
"Yeah, I'll call you." He walked over to her and simply looked her over. She was truly beautiful. He had always been amazed by the beauty she radiated. He felt pride swell up within him at knowing that Rachel was his, somewhat anyway. He ran his fingers over her face and then down her neck while admiring the marks he left on her body. Sam was aware that it was against the rules to leave the purple bruises on her, but sometimes he got a little too carried away. "I love you, Rachel," he whispered before pressing his lips against hers. He pulled away before she was able to deepen it. "I don't think I'll ever love anyone as much as I love you."
"Sam," she whispered as a lone tear fell down her face. He kissed the tear away before pressing various kisses against her face, and finally meeting her lips. "I. Love. You," Rachel whispered in between kisses. He grinned before reluctantly pulling away and making his way towards the door.
"Tell your husband that his piano is ready at the shop," he stated while leaning his head against the door. Before Rachel could reply he was out the door and walking down the hallway. He was going back to the real world. The world where he was just a guy that worked at a music store. The world where Rachel St. James was one half of a powerful Broadway couple.