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But It's Baseball, Baby

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Jesse St. James took pride in the fact that he knew his girlfriend like no one ever would. And he loves when he discovers new things to add to the impressive list of obscure facts of hers that he keeps in his mind. Like the way she goes to sing for the patients at the children's hospital on a Saturday afternoon. Or the way she adorably bites the tip of her thumb when she concentrates on studying. Or the way she absentmindedly grabs her gold star necklace when she speaks her hopes and dreams or stardom into manifestation. But what really threw him in for a loop was the fact that Rachel Berry loved baseball. Particularly the Yankees. Because of course, whatever celestial being out there would make his soulmate an avid baseball fan when he was one too. He finds out one day when he stays with her on his couch in his cozy new york apartment, and she keeps the channel that plasters Derek Jeter's face on the tv right where it is. Fully invested and occasionally shouting when she's miffed about a call onscreen. He has found that he rather likes it when her cheeks blush from a mixture of her upset and the realization that he is watching her be this way. All he can do to hide his arousal is smile amusedly as he expertly puts a couch pillow over his crotch. He thinks life can never be boring with this girl. And he knows he's right. Because he doesn't know if it's possible to love her more than he does now.


If only most of her moronic glee club bothered to get to know her more all those years ago. Especially that (literal) giant garden gnome she used to (waste her time with) date. She had lost a bit of herself by the constant stifling of her voice when she was there. Keeping to herself more often than not. Useless pricks. But now that she was in her junior year at NYADA and with him in the city of her dreams, she had fully spread her wings. The audacious and bodacious Berry returned with fervor. He was seeing a little of her now as she ranted once again at the "shitty call" that was made. She later sits there wearing only a yankees baseball cap backwards, his Yankees baseball shirt and shorts, basically swooning over Jeter's swing, and he couldn't find it in him to be anything but amused, and quite frankly a little turned on. Her legs were practically the eighth wonder of the world, so could you really blame him? He does manage to laugh at her adorable intensity and smiling; she shoves him in response, only prompting him to laugh more. He is momentarily silenced with a kiss, though. She celebrates when the Yankees win (again) by doing a cute but unbeknownst to her, sexy little triumphal dance, and he thinks he's held back enough. He swiftly carries her over his shoulder much to her laughter, gives her ass a playful slap, and takes her to his room (theirs really) and makes her yell a much different and delicious tune.


Two years later and it's her birthday now. They both have a day off from being Tony and Grammy-winning Broadway stars, and they've just returned from a surprise party thrown for her. She starts winding down for the evening. But he still has to give her her gift. She calls for him from another room, and when he doesn't answer, she comes looking. And with precise estimation, he turns around swiftly, holding four front row tickets. Two for the next Yankees game and the other two to see 'Wicked' on broadway on the same day. And as her bright eyes travel to the tickets, she literally screams and tackles him, grabbing the notes for a better look. In that order. He laughs and is warmed by her joy. She kisses him so passionately to convey what escapes her with words. And she fucks him until they both see stars.


He's pleased to say that Rachel St. James reacts no differently when he pulls the same surprise a few years later. Only this time, he takes their children with them.