Nothing Can Change This Love - Part IV
pairing: rachel/omc
rating: eventual NC-17
disclaimer: I own nothing relating to Glee. I can claim the OMC but if it saves me being sued, you can have him
summary: Maybe hitting bottom is just what they needed to see that they have had all they needed the entire time.
warning: occasional skipping though storyline.
There were many things to love about their expensive house, from the three floors of immaculate, pre-war hardwood and the original moldings, to an address that most people would sell a family member to call their own. It was exclusive, like belonging to a special club. When you told people you live on the Upper East Side you could practically see their misconceptions about you disappear, and in Josh’s case, only to be replaced by new ones.
Frankly, it made no difference to him where he lived. An address was as inconsequential as any other amenity that the house may offer. Yes, he had money. Yes, he could afford the best that New York or any other city could offer, but he required no more than four walls, working plumbing and a place to lay his head. No, it wasn’t because of his tastes that he picked this house; it was because of the two most important women in his life.
He knew Rachel would be willing to live anywhere. Judging by the apartments he had taken her to see in her bid to try to ‘stand on her own two feet’, she would definitely have to settle for the lower-middle rungs of real estate, a place she most certainly didn’t belong. The idea of her lugging Maddy to a cramped, fifth story walk-up with all manner of people to call neighbors didn’t sit well with Josh. He could have opted to talk to Blaine’s Uncle Jack and kept them in their original apartment, but it was so littered with memories of her life with Will, Josh instantly rejected that idea.
It seemed like so long ago that he asked her to live with him, years even, though only months had passed. Maybe it was their seclusion from the outside world for almost a week that made time seem to stretch on forever, yet be over in a blink of an eye.
The night they had returned home from Vegas was a foggy memory of nerves for him. He remembered asking Rachel to stay, sleep causing his usually sharp mind to be dulled and easily convinced it was a good idea. His conscious brain knew it would only cause him pain later, but his strife wasn’t what was important. Rachel was his primary concern.
He set her up in the guest bedroom as gently as he could, trying to not jostle her already sleeping form as he removed her jacket and sandals and arrange her on the bed. A quick dash downstairs found him with her luggage in one hand and an ice-cold water bottle in the other. Setting the items down carefully, he backed out of the room, closing the door with a gentle click.
After seeing Rachel settled, he just didn’t know what to do with himself. He felt stir-crazy. Like he had to purge Quinn from his life. Without a second thought he called down to the lobby, acquiring the boxes he would need and started packing away their life together.
Sam Cooke’s You Send Me blared through his earphones as he packed away all their memories, starting first with the almost showroom bare living room and working his way to their bedroom. He packed away her numerous amounts of cardigans and dresses, outfits so similar to Rachel’s adorably retro style, that it made him cringe. He didn’t blame her for their relationship falling apart. If anyone was to blame it was him. He knew this and made no attempt to claim otherwise.
If he was being honest their relationship had never been a real one to him. He wasn’t even sure what a realrelationship felt like, but he knew enough to know it didn’t involve being in love with someone else. What he did blame her for was who she chose to stray with. No matter how much Josh had dreamed of one day getting even a chance of a shot with Rachel, it didn’t involve their exes cheating on them.
It was quick work packing up their life together, a reminder of the truly sad state of their relationship and he quickly deposited the boxes in the lobby for Quinn to pick up. There was no way she was getting anywhere near his apartment while Rachel was in it. Not if he could help it.
Grabbing a tumbler of scotch from his rarely used bar, he sat back on his sofa, letting Sam’s voice soothe him as he softly sang along, setting the stereo to its lowest volume to not wake Rachel. This is love, what singing about love sounds like. He thought bitterly, taking a sip and closing his eyes.
He had made it though the second verse of Nothing Can Change This Love, when he heard Rachel’s voice next to him. “This is a pretty song.” She said, sleep still lacing her voice as she stretched. “Do you mind if I start this over?”
Josh shook his head, his eyes suddenly wide with nerves. He watched her walk over to his stereo and push rewind, returning to sit next to him on the sofa. She curled up next to him, tucking her legs underneath her skirt, leaning against his chest. “Don’t stop singing on my account. It was nice.” She said, closing her eyes again when he hesitantly laid his arm around her shoulders.
He looked down at her, singing as softly as he could manage, a smile on his lips. They looked like they stepped back in time, their chosen styles appropriate for the simpler time. If he squinted he could pretend they were just a young couple on a date, listening to 45’s on his record player. How he wished that were the case instead of the alternative.
PART FIVE
rating: eventual NC-17
disclaimer: I own nothing relating to Glee. I can claim the OMC but if it saves me being sued, you can have him
summary: Maybe hitting bottom is just what they needed to see that they have had all they needed the entire time.
warning: occasional skipping though storyline.
There were many things to love about their expensive house, from the three floors of immaculate, pre-war hardwood and the original moldings, to an address that most people would sell a family member to call their own. It was exclusive, like belonging to a special club. When you told people you live on the Upper East Side you could practically see their misconceptions about you disappear, and in Josh’s case, only to be replaced by new ones.
Frankly, it made no difference to him where he lived. An address was as inconsequential as any other amenity that the house may offer. Yes, he had money. Yes, he could afford the best that New York or any other city could offer, but he required no more than four walls, working plumbing and a place to lay his head. No, it wasn’t because of his tastes that he picked this house; it was because of the two most important women in his life.
He knew Rachel would be willing to live anywhere. Judging by the apartments he had taken her to see in her bid to try to ‘stand on her own two feet’, she would definitely have to settle for the lower-middle rungs of real estate, a place she most certainly didn’t belong. The idea of her lugging Maddy to a cramped, fifth story walk-up with all manner of people to call neighbors didn’t sit well with Josh. He could have opted to talk to Blaine’s Uncle Jack and kept them in their original apartment, but it was so littered with memories of her life with Will, Josh instantly rejected that idea.
It seemed like so long ago that he asked her to live with him, years even, though only months had passed. Maybe it was their seclusion from the outside world for almost a week that made time seem to stretch on forever, yet be over in a blink of an eye.
The night they had returned home from Vegas was a foggy memory of nerves for him. He remembered asking Rachel to stay, sleep causing his usually sharp mind to be dulled and easily convinced it was a good idea. His conscious brain knew it would only cause him pain later, but his strife wasn’t what was important. Rachel was his primary concern.
He set her up in the guest bedroom as gently as he could, trying to not jostle her already sleeping form as he removed her jacket and sandals and arrange her on the bed. A quick dash downstairs found him with her luggage in one hand and an ice-cold water bottle in the other. Setting the items down carefully, he backed out of the room, closing the door with a gentle click.
After seeing Rachel settled, he just didn’t know what to do with himself. He felt stir-crazy. Like he had to purge Quinn from his life. Without a second thought he called down to the lobby, acquiring the boxes he would need and started packing away their life together.
Sam Cooke’s You Send Me blared through his earphones as he packed away all their memories, starting first with the almost showroom bare living room and working his way to their bedroom. He packed away her numerous amounts of cardigans and dresses, outfits so similar to Rachel’s adorably retro style, that it made him cringe. He didn’t blame her for their relationship falling apart. If anyone was to blame it was him. He knew this and made no attempt to claim otherwise.
If he was being honest their relationship had never been a real one to him. He wasn’t even sure what a realrelationship felt like, but he knew enough to know it didn’t involve being in love with someone else. What he did blame her for was who she chose to stray with. No matter how much Josh had dreamed of one day getting even a chance of a shot with Rachel, it didn’t involve their exes cheating on them.
It was quick work packing up their life together, a reminder of the truly sad state of their relationship and he quickly deposited the boxes in the lobby for Quinn to pick up. There was no way she was getting anywhere near his apartment while Rachel was in it. Not if he could help it.
Grabbing a tumbler of scotch from his rarely used bar, he sat back on his sofa, letting Sam’s voice soothe him as he softly sang along, setting the stereo to its lowest volume to not wake Rachel. This is love, what singing about love sounds like. He thought bitterly, taking a sip and closing his eyes.
He had made it though the second verse of Nothing Can Change This Love, when he heard Rachel’s voice next to him. “This is a pretty song.” She said, sleep still lacing her voice as she stretched. “Do you mind if I start this over?”
Josh shook his head, his eyes suddenly wide with nerves. He watched her walk over to his stereo and push rewind, returning to sit next to him on the sofa. She curled up next to him, tucking her legs underneath her skirt, leaning against his chest. “Don’t stop singing on my account. It was nice.” She said, closing her eyes again when he hesitantly laid his arm around her shoulders.
He looked down at her, singing as softly as he could manage, a smile on his lips. They looked like they stepped back in time, their chosen styles appropriate for the simpler time. If he squinted he could pretend they were just a young couple on a date, listening to 45’s on his record player. How he wished that were the case instead of the alternative.
PART FIVE