Like A Virgin - Chapter 49 (Jayma Mays/Matthew Morrison)
Title: Like A Virgin
Author: emmaschuester
Pairing/Characters: Jayma Mays/Matthew Morrison
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Harmless fun, no offence intended. Pure work of fiction.
Spoilers: None.
Summary/Author's Notes: One chapter to go...
July was a whirlwind of emotions, wrapped up in days packed with meetings, phone interviews, planning, reading scripts. And mostly, travelling.
If anyone had told her so much as three months before she'd be on the road for almost a month, on a tour bus, with his fiancè's bandmates, she would have called them crazy. But in the end, there she was, sleeping with Matthew in the only private bedroom of the luxury bus, learning to play silly videogames with one of his guitarists, laughing and confiding with his backup singers. For the first time in her life, she considered she had never fully understood what the word "freedom" meant, until she took five weeks off from her own life, disconnected her work mobile and just allowed herself to live in the moment.
Their sex life had to be revised as well, because the walls of their bedroom on the bus were so thin, and she was so reserved, and he was so exhausted he often fell asleep straight ahead, but they often woke up in the middle of the night, the gentle rolling of the wheels on the road having brought them either closer or farther apart, and both situations prompted them to wrap their arms around each other, hands travelling across slick skin, moans and grunts suffocated by the other's mouth. Alternatively, when their night travels had brought along fitful sleeps, or the long talks and jokes with their companions had bit away at their alone time, she often found herself pressed against the wall of his dressing room, either before or right after his performance, and both experiences were incredibly arousing for her, either to feel his adrenaline building up for his upcoming show or to wet her clothes with his sweaty body, his muscles spent from exhaustion but his passion not diminished in the least, his need to convey to her all the love he received on stage getting bigger and stronger every night.
During the days, while he rehearsed and answered the same five questions in endless radio and print interviews, she busied herself with the final touches to their wedding preparations. Everything had been set weeks before, and most of it was ready too: but her or their opinions were still needed in most things, and she thanked her good judgement to have brought her laptop along, in order to get pictures and videochat with their amazing wedding planner, who had understood the private, chilled, romantic but not cheesy mood they wanted to infuse to the day. Matt was still very adamant on being involved in the process, but had also understood her need to decide some small things her way, and the bickering that often accompanied a couple in the weeks before their wedding was for the most part completely absent from theirs. They had limited time to spend together, the last thing either desired was to discuss on the better centerpiece to place on tables.
-----
The sound of ukulele strings being played helped her locate him in their suite. They were staying in the same city for a couple of days, and everyone had been glad to abandon their beloved bus for a real hotel room, a real shower, and a real bed. He had just returned to the hotel from a business meeting, and she had just emerged from a post-run shower, in shorts and a tank top, toweling her red hair, her cheeks red from exertion and hot water, not a hint of makeup on her face, her bare feet and long legs surely as smooth as his fingertips remembered them. He smiled. She was beautiful. And he was hers.
He extended a hand in her direction. "Hey!"
"Hey yourself. How did the meeting go?"
"Pretty well, but there should be a law against having to wear a suit in this weather. I was melting."
She hinted to the scattered papers on the floor beside him, his ukulele in his lap. "New song?"
"Kinda. I was just playing some tunes, and then inspiration struck me. I've had some lyrics down for a couple of weeks now, but no music. It's still a very raw version, but it might lead to something."
He grinned at her, and she took in his excited expression, his eyes shining, his fingers unable to stop fiddling mindlessly with the strings, and smiled. He was beautiful. And she was his.
She got closer, crouched down, and placed a kiss on his cheek. "You're really cute when you're so excited."
He chucked. "Why, thank you. You're really cute, period."
She blushed, and got up, running a hand through his hair, and then retrieved her towel. "I'll be in the bedroom fixing my hair, okay? You keep being creative."
He nodded, smiling and turned back to his sheet music and beloved instrument, while she retraced her steps back to the other room, her heart warmed by the sight of the man she loved dedicating himself to what he loved.
-----
Her days on the road had been put on stand-by for about a week at the end of July, when she had to go to New York for the Smurfs premiere and its endless string of interviews and press tours; he had been sorry not to take part to the premiere, but his own work engagements could not be moved for anything, and they had resolved on meeting in town on July 31st, day of his concert with the boyband guys in Long Island, before his own big show the following day at the Beacon Theater.
She had been incredibly busy throughout the week, even flying to LA for the taping of Conan and flying back the very same day, uninterested in her manager shaking his head in disapproval, he wasn't too happy with her summer off, but she had never been more sure of any choice than this one, she needed to do this for him, and for her too, and didn't mind the red-eye that brought her back to the East Coast just eighteen hours after she had left it.
His first show in the area was in Uniondale, and she was supposed to meet him at the venue, and then they'd both come back to his apartment, their apartment by now, where she had lived for the past six days, remembering the bare walls and table tops from the first time she'd been here, and comparing them to the blossoming of pictures of her and them he had placed all around the small flat, some nicely framed, others just stuck to the wall with tape, a couple of the most recent ones pressed against the fridge door with a couple of "I Love NY" magnets he had clearly bought in a hurry the last time he'd been here, for less than a whole 24 hours, but still finding the time to think of them; he was the most considerate man she had ever known.
She left the apartment with a smile, determined to make this few days in New York unforgettable for the both of them, it was fast becoming their city, and she wanted to build as many nice menories as possible. She halted for a second before closing the door, surveying the space in front of her, it wasn't huge but she had worked on it for a couple of hours, to surprise him when they'd be back there later that night. Satisfied with her work, she locked the door and got downstairs, to the car waiting for her.
-----
"I think it went pretty well, what do you think?"
"Well, if you consider a standing ovation as pretty well..." She giggled, and cupped his cheek. "It went amazing, baby. I'm so proud of you."
He smiled, looking down at his lap for a second, the tip of his ears turning red in that way she adored. "I don't know how I would have managed without you this past month." His fingers entwined with hers. ""Thank you so much."
"You don't have to thank me. I loved doing this. This past week it almost felt weird to go back home instead of on the bus." She chuckled. "Maybe we'll have to buy a motor home."
"Ha! Pretty sure we'll both forget the bus within twenty minutes from getting home."
Their car turned right and he looked out of the window, taking in the view of his New York neighborhood. He had been living in the same area for almost ten years and yet he didn't have enough of the place. "Hell's Kitchen, how have I missed you," he mumbled.
She used the set of keys he had given her more than a year before to open the door and lead him inside the hall, and they walked up to their door, their hands linked, his thumb stroking hers.
She opened the front door with a smile. "Welcome home."
He was taken aback for a second. A few blue letters hung in the entrance hall, spelling "Congratulations, rockstar! Love, Jay.". It looked as if she had cut them out herself. A soft yellow light was casting sparkles on a big chocolate cake, one he knew she had the recipe for but had never actually tasted, a single small blue candle right in the middle. Beside it, there was something wrapped in blue paper, with a silver bow on top.
He turned to her, but she had already walked past him, to the kitchen, and was coming back with a box of matches. She lit a few colorful candles that were scattered on various surfaces, and when she lit one close to him, he took his chance to gather her in his arms. "Jay?"
"Matty?" She giggled, imitating his tone, and waving the match in the air to turn it off.
"Why... what... I mean I love this but... why?"
"Just a small way to welcome you home. New York missed you, and so did I." She kissed his cheek. "This week I missed not seeing you on stage every night, and I just realized I hadn't really told you how proud I am of you. It's a terrible mistake and I needed to own up to it."
He grinned. "Oh. Okay then..." He walked to the table, to survey the dessert and its dimensions. "Are we having people over or did you decide to make me fat?"
She giggled. "Nobody is coming over. You're having your big afterparty tomorrow night. We can share the cake with your band tomorrow, if you want." She took his hand. "Tonight is just for us."
He grinned, and pulled her closer. "I can't wait to be your husband."
She winked, and wiggled out of his hold, reaching the table to get the wrapped package. "Wait 'til you see your present before you decide."
"Why a present? It's not my birthday and it's not Christmas! You're breaking the rules already."
"Oh, shut up. I wanted to do this and I did. So what? Break up with me." She stuck out her tongue cheekily, and he laughed, taking the gift and shaking it lightly.
"No noise... no holes for air either so I can safely assume it's not a puppy?"
"Don't you think a dog and two cats could be enough?? Come on! Open."
He smirked. "Yes, ma'am."
He carefully set aside the silver bow, and then tore the paper open quickly, like a kid on Christmas morning. He studied the object in front of him. It was a book. Or looked like one. The cover had a group picture of him and his band, and the writing "What I did last summer..." under it.
Slowly, his eyes wide in surprise, he opened it. It was a photo album, full of pictures she had and a few of his bandmates had taken throughout the tour, and a few of their holiday in Italy and France as well. It was all divided chronologically, starting with his concert in London in June, and ending with a few blank pages, with the names of his next concert stops already written on top. The pages reserved for his solo concert, the following night, were the most, more than ten. She had borrowed his Canon camera for the tour, claiming hers wasn't good enough, and they had spent long hours on the bus going through the features of the machine. Her skills as a photographer had greatly improved in just a few weeks, and he skimmed quickly through the pages, before looking up at her, a few held back tears in his eyes. He motioned for her to sit on his lap, and she gladly complied, as he set the album in front of her, opening it at page one, where it read "London - June 13".
"What about the cake?"
"Later." He kissed her. "Now I want to relive this summer with you..." She laid her back on his chest, and he closed his grasp tighter. "This is the most thoughtful gift anyone has ever given me." He kissed the hollow of her neck, and breathed on her skin. "Thank you."
-----
The next two days had passed in a blur of emotion, walking through their neighborhood together, Jayma finally realizing she was about to become almost a New Yorker, his concert, where his talent and passion for performing had reached its top level so far, his many interviews and charity engagements, that had brought them all over the city, the fans stopping them every other block to congratulate him for the show or ask them for a picture. It was crazy, but they were loving it.
She had managed to meet up with their planner on the day after the concert, when he was busy with work, and had settled the final touches. They wouldn't be back in town until just a few days before the actual wedding, and everything needed to be ready. She remembered the planning for her first wedding, the anxiety and discussions and worries, and wondered why it was all so easy this time around, and then was remembered it was her second one, and something inside of her broke every time, and she forced herself to stop thinking about that altogether. This was it. Second or first, this was it, for the both of them.
-----
Before either of them realized it, the tour was over and they were back on the set of Glee for their costume fittings. Emma was going to wear even better clothes this year, she had already got her eye on a couple of skirts, and when she saw him emerge from the trailer in his sweater vest, after two months of t-shirts and D&G suits, she did a double take. Mr Schue was back.
They loved seeing everyone after two whole months apart, it had been the longest they had spent not seeing each other from their first day of rehearsals for the pilot, and they had missed one another sorely. The first few days were spent catching up on everyone's summer adventures; Jayma and Dianna spent many breaks between scenes telling the others about his "epic" -from their descriptions- New York concert, while he shielded away, feeling himself blush with pride and modesty.
Another two weeks, and everything he could hear about was his bachelor party, and Jayma's bachelorette one. Dianna and Jayma's sister, as Jayma's bridesmaids, were in charge of her party, while his two best friends, Rick and Brian, had planned his. He didn't know a thing about it, except for the one word the uttered to him: "Vegas."
They parted on a Saturday morning of August with a kiss, Matt headed to the airport for the short flight to Sin City, Jayma leaving on Dianna's car for a shorter ride to a famous spa, where they were to pamper themselves before their wild night ahead.
As they said goodbye to each other, she playfully reminded him of his glasses, for she wanted him to give those strippers "a good last look".
He mockingly gave a double take. "Strippers? What strippers? I don't know anything about tonight. The guys have kept me completely in the dark."
"Well, I hope they planned for one. I don't want to be staring at my male strippers feeling guilty." She was cheeky and funny, and all he wanted to do was call his friends, tell them he was sick, and lock themselves in the bedroom for the next forty-eight hours.
"Hmmm, if you want to make me jealous you've reached your goal." He grabbed her by her waist, and pulled her closer, as Dianna was approaching their gate on a car. "Just looking, no touching, right?"
She smirked. "You don't have to tell me that, mister."
"You're the only one I want to be touching. Now would be good, actually..."
"Ha, sorry sweetie. Di's here."
He pouted, just like in one of his pics as a kid his mom had shown her once, and she pulled him down for one last kiss. "I love you. See you tomorrow."
-----
They met back at their house on Sunday evening. Jayma's eyes were shining like someone who's had a great night out with friends. They had spent their day at a hotel close to LA, between the spa and the pool, and at night, after a hilarious dinner with incredibly ambiguous talks and gifts, of which edible underwear had been the tamest, they had hit a club, the roof level reserved just for them, all of her girlfriends gathered together to dance and drink and have a good time. After yet another round of tequila, a huge box was delivered to her, and within seconds she had been dragged to the center of the stage by two male dancers, barely clad in revealing underwear. She was so intoxicated not to feel too ashamed, as she would have under normal circumstances, and had danced with them for a while, keeping her promise to never even lay a finger on either, until two of her single friends snatched one each, and she gladly took a seat at the bar, unable to contain her laughter.
Matt's night had been a bit wilder, first dinner at a famous Vegas restaurant, and then the most celebrated nightclub, the private floor entirely reserved to them. They had hit the blackjack and poker tables, his friend Brian daring him to another bet, after the one that had gained him a tattoo with his best friend's initials. Luck was on his side though, and by the end of the night Brian had been forced to go on the dancefloor and propose to every woman that came within a two-foot distance from him. Matt thought he'd never laughed this hard in his life. His night was spiced up by a group of four strippers, who danced around him and on his lap, until he felt a little uncomfortable and motioned for his friends to join the dances, as Rick mocked him, wondering where his old, womanizer friend had gone.
"I used to be the good, reliable guy, and you the screwup, and now? Both so responsible, and committed."
He laughed. "Thank God for Brian, then," as their friend carelessly danced with two strippers.
He recounted this and more to her as they snuggled up on a sunbed by their swimming pool, the sound of her laughter spreading in his chest and warming him like a balm, her hand caressing his stubbly cheek, his voice rough and his eyes sleepy from the previous night.
"Twelve days."
She entwined their fingers together. "Twelve days. Can you believe it? It's so exciting!"
He grinned. "Twelve days. There's a fair chance I'm gonna love you more than I do right now in twelve days."
She pulled away a little, trying hard to hide her giggle. "My God, you're so cheesy."
He pulled her closer again, grinning. "Shut up and kiss me."
-----
She looked out of the window. 7pm on a Friday night, Hell's Kitchen was beginning to get animated, She loved being here, exploring the city streets with Matt, his favorite burger joint, the best place for breakfast in town, that small bookstore that had an old albums section in the back.
Though they hadn't done much of that in the previous two days... September 2nd. In less than 24 hours she'd be his wife. They had rehearsed the ceremony and mock-married each other less than an hour before. Were they rushing? Were they ready? What had he written in his vows? Would her great-uncle drink too much and embarass her like every time there was a family gathering?
She puffed lightly as she applied some eye-shadow. The light green dress she had chosen for the night made her pale skin and red hair stand out, her eyelids now in the same shade of color. She looked great, but she was hardly paying attention to her outfit or make-up, her mind too preoccupied with the upcoming events.
He stepped out of the bathroom rubbing his palms together, drying out the last drops of Lubriderm he had just applied to his curls. and stopped for a second to stare at her from the doorframe. He loved watching her as she fretted about the house, fixing her hair and make up, trying out a dozen different pairs of shoes. She settled for a pair of nude-looking Louboutin and matching purse, and turned around to gather a few belongings.
"You look stunning."
She smiled. "You don't look too bad yourself, you know."
"Are you ready?" He stepped closer and took her hand, and she drew in a long breath.
"Ready."
Silently, both lost in their own thoughts, they reached the car that was waiting for them downstairs, and drove off to meet their families and friends for their rehearsal dinner.
-----
The night had been surprisingly smooth, their respective families were meshing nicely, and their friends had already been one big mixed group for a few months. He was lazily surveying his third glass of champagne, wondering whether to drink it or pass, his right hand stroking her kneecap and lower thigh under the table, when his dad stood up, a glass in his hand, and the room fell quiet.
"Good evening, everyone. My name is Thomas Morrison, and I'm Matt's dad." He smiled at his son, and continued. "I would just like to say how incredibly happy I am. Not just for this dinner, and not just for tomorrow, even though I don't think I'm gonna be able to sleep much tonight." There were a few "awww" from the audience. "Matthew and I are very tight. Always have been, even when we were living on opposite sides of the country. I've seen my boy through a lot, I've seen him happy, and sad, crushed and hopeful. But I've never, in the past, seen him as happy as he's been since February of last year. And when I met Jayma, and realized how lovely she is, I wasn't surprised at all." He turned to them, and laid a hand on his son's shoulder. "So thank you, Jayma, for making my son so happy. I know he'll work his best to do the same for you. I couldn't have asked for a better daughter-in-law." He raised his glass. "To Matt and Jayma! May tomorrow be just the first of the happiest days of your life! Cheers!" He clinked his champagne glass with the both of them, and then turned around to do the same with his wife, Jayma's parents and pretty much anyone in his arms reach, while the bride and groom-to-be engaged in a shorter kiss than they'd have liked, and a long hug.
"I can really see where you got your charming self from..."
He laughed. "Nah, my dad is ten times as charming as I'll ever be."
She looked cheekily at him. "Oh, I know. But he's taken, unfortunately."
"Ouch." He mimicked being punched in the stomach. "That was my ego, in case you were wondering."
Giggling, she took his face in her hands for a kiss, and then motioned behind him. "My dad just got up. It's gonna be a long night of speeches..."
-----
"Are you sure you have to go?"
"Yes, baby, it's tradition."
He pouted, alcohol clouding his mind and slurring his speech. "It's a stupid tradition. I want to sleep with you tonight."
She smiled, a little less intoxicated than he was, and cupped his cheek. "We'll have a lot of nights to spend together in the future."
His glazed eyes smiled. "You promise?"
"I can absolutely promise you this."
His arms closed around her waist, and suddenly he was surrounded by her perfume, her warmth, and didn't want to ever let go. "You know how much I love you, right?"
She just nodded, her head resting just below his left shoulder, just beside his heart, and pressed a kiss to his jacket-covered chest.
"Okay. Good. That's good. You just... remember it tonight, and... and..." he scratched his throat, and she knew it was not because of the champagne he had drunk. "...and just... don't change your mind in the next fifteen hours, okay?"
She looked up at him, her eyes teary. "I will never -never- change my mind. I love you."
He smiled, and all was good again. "I love you too, Jayma Mays."
"This is the last time you can say that, you know? No more Mays from tomorrow."
"I'll have to get used to it."
Jayma's sister gently touched her shoulder. "When you're ready, the car's waiting for us."
"Right, of course. I'll be right there. Thank you." Her sister left them, a knowing smirk on her face, and she turned back to her fiancè. "I have to go..."
He kept shaking his head. "No, no, no, that's not gonna happen because I'm not releasing you. And we both know I'm stronger than you so, here it goes. You have to come back home. We can get married in jeans."
She burst into laughter. "Sounds... mature." Her hands sneaked up behind his neck, and she kissed him deeply. "See you tomorrow at four. I'll be the one in the dress."
"Wait, you mean YOU are wearing the dress? What am I going to do with mine?"
She almost choked from laughing. "Well, we're gonna have interesting pictures, that's for sure."
"I love you. Forgive my silliness. Goodnight."
"Thank God for your silliness. I love you."
She forced herself to walk past him and through the restaurant door, trying hard not to cry. It was just one night. Just one night. Just the one night before September 3rd. As the car sped to the hotel where her family and most of Matt's were staying too, she allowed herself a good cry on her sister's shoulder, allowing nerves and exhaustion to leave her body.
-----
September 3rd, 2011 was a nice day in New York City. The sky was clear, and the end-of-summer sun was still warm enough for people to take lazy walks in their Saturday mornings.
Not that he cared. He had been staring out of his bedroom window for a long time, not really focusing on anything, his head pulsing with a single thought.
He needed to run.
_______________________
One chapter to go! So exciting. I think you can guess the day when chapter 50 will be published. ;)
I hope you enjoyed the ride! And thank you everyone who stops to say even just a word, it means a lot to me.
One last thing. I've never done this but I have an author reccomendation for you: Sierra-Jae is an amazing writer, and anyone who loves Will and Emma (or just good writing) is gonna love her. I don't even know if she reads this fic, but it doesn't really matter. Good stories should be spread around. :)
And now, we have a wedding to go to... or do we?
Author: emmaschuester
Pairing/Characters: Jayma Mays/Matthew Morrison
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Harmless fun, no offence intended. Pure work of fiction.
Spoilers: None.
Summary/Author's Notes: One chapter to go...
July was a whirlwind of emotions, wrapped up in days packed with meetings, phone interviews, planning, reading scripts. And mostly, travelling.
If anyone had told her so much as three months before she'd be on the road for almost a month, on a tour bus, with his fiancè's bandmates, she would have called them crazy. But in the end, there she was, sleeping with Matthew in the only private bedroom of the luxury bus, learning to play silly videogames with one of his guitarists, laughing and confiding with his backup singers. For the first time in her life, she considered she had never fully understood what the word "freedom" meant, until she took five weeks off from her own life, disconnected her work mobile and just allowed herself to live in the moment.
Their sex life had to be revised as well, because the walls of their bedroom on the bus were so thin, and she was so reserved, and he was so exhausted he often fell asleep straight ahead, but they often woke up in the middle of the night, the gentle rolling of the wheels on the road having brought them either closer or farther apart, and both situations prompted them to wrap their arms around each other, hands travelling across slick skin, moans and grunts suffocated by the other's mouth. Alternatively, when their night travels had brought along fitful sleeps, or the long talks and jokes with their companions had bit away at their alone time, she often found herself pressed against the wall of his dressing room, either before or right after his performance, and both experiences were incredibly arousing for her, either to feel his adrenaline building up for his upcoming show or to wet her clothes with his sweaty body, his muscles spent from exhaustion but his passion not diminished in the least, his need to convey to her all the love he received on stage getting bigger and stronger every night.
During the days, while he rehearsed and answered the same five questions in endless radio and print interviews, she busied herself with the final touches to their wedding preparations. Everything had been set weeks before, and most of it was ready too: but her or their opinions were still needed in most things, and she thanked her good judgement to have brought her laptop along, in order to get pictures and videochat with their amazing wedding planner, who had understood the private, chilled, romantic but not cheesy mood they wanted to infuse to the day. Matt was still very adamant on being involved in the process, but had also understood her need to decide some small things her way, and the bickering that often accompanied a couple in the weeks before their wedding was for the most part completely absent from theirs. They had limited time to spend together, the last thing either desired was to discuss on the better centerpiece to place on tables.
-----
The sound of ukulele strings being played helped her locate him in their suite. They were staying in the same city for a couple of days, and everyone had been glad to abandon their beloved bus for a real hotel room, a real shower, and a real bed. He had just returned to the hotel from a business meeting, and she had just emerged from a post-run shower, in shorts and a tank top, toweling her red hair, her cheeks red from exertion and hot water, not a hint of makeup on her face, her bare feet and long legs surely as smooth as his fingertips remembered them. He smiled. She was beautiful. And he was hers.
He extended a hand in her direction. "Hey!"
"Hey yourself. How did the meeting go?"
"Pretty well, but there should be a law against having to wear a suit in this weather. I was melting."
She hinted to the scattered papers on the floor beside him, his ukulele in his lap. "New song?"
"Kinda. I was just playing some tunes, and then inspiration struck me. I've had some lyrics down for a couple of weeks now, but no music. It's still a very raw version, but it might lead to something."
He grinned at her, and she took in his excited expression, his eyes shining, his fingers unable to stop fiddling mindlessly with the strings, and smiled. He was beautiful. And she was his.
She got closer, crouched down, and placed a kiss on his cheek. "You're really cute when you're so excited."
He chucked. "Why, thank you. You're really cute, period."
She blushed, and got up, running a hand through his hair, and then retrieved her towel. "I'll be in the bedroom fixing my hair, okay? You keep being creative."
He nodded, smiling and turned back to his sheet music and beloved instrument, while she retraced her steps back to the other room, her heart warmed by the sight of the man she loved dedicating himself to what he loved.
-----
Her days on the road had been put on stand-by for about a week at the end of July, when she had to go to New York for the Smurfs premiere and its endless string of interviews and press tours; he had been sorry not to take part to the premiere, but his own work engagements could not be moved for anything, and they had resolved on meeting in town on July 31st, day of his concert with the boyband guys in Long Island, before his own big show the following day at the Beacon Theater.
She had been incredibly busy throughout the week, even flying to LA for the taping of Conan and flying back the very same day, uninterested in her manager shaking his head in disapproval, he wasn't too happy with her summer off, but she had never been more sure of any choice than this one, she needed to do this for him, and for her too, and didn't mind the red-eye that brought her back to the East Coast just eighteen hours after she had left it.
His first show in the area was in Uniondale, and she was supposed to meet him at the venue, and then they'd both come back to his apartment, their apartment by now, where she had lived for the past six days, remembering the bare walls and table tops from the first time she'd been here, and comparing them to the blossoming of pictures of her and them he had placed all around the small flat, some nicely framed, others just stuck to the wall with tape, a couple of the most recent ones pressed against the fridge door with a couple of "I Love NY" magnets he had clearly bought in a hurry the last time he'd been here, for less than a whole 24 hours, but still finding the time to think of them; he was the most considerate man she had ever known.
She left the apartment with a smile, determined to make this few days in New York unforgettable for the both of them, it was fast becoming their city, and she wanted to build as many nice menories as possible. She halted for a second before closing the door, surveying the space in front of her, it wasn't huge but she had worked on it for a couple of hours, to surprise him when they'd be back there later that night. Satisfied with her work, she locked the door and got downstairs, to the car waiting for her.
-----
"I think it went pretty well, what do you think?"
"Well, if you consider a standing ovation as pretty well..." She giggled, and cupped his cheek. "It went amazing, baby. I'm so proud of you."
He smiled, looking down at his lap for a second, the tip of his ears turning red in that way she adored. "I don't know how I would have managed without you this past month." His fingers entwined with hers. ""Thank you so much."
"You don't have to thank me. I loved doing this. This past week it almost felt weird to go back home instead of on the bus." She chuckled. "Maybe we'll have to buy a motor home."
"Ha! Pretty sure we'll both forget the bus within twenty minutes from getting home."
Their car turned right and he looked out of the window, taking in the view of his New York neighborhood. He had been living in the same area for almost ten years and yet he didn't have enough of the place. "Hell's Kitchen, how have I missed you," he mumbled.
She used the set of keys he had given her more than a year before to open the door and lead him inside the hall, and they walked up to their door, their hands linked, his thumb stroking hers.
She opened the front door with a smile. "Welcome home."
He was taken aback for a second. A few blue letters hung in the entrance hall, spelling "Congratulations, rockstar! Love, Jay.". It looked as if she had cut them out herself. A soft yellow light was casting sparkles on a big chocolate cake, one he knew she had the recipe for but had never actually tasted, a single small blue candle right in the middle. Beside it, there was something wrapped in blue paper, with a silver bow on top.
He turned to her, but she had already walked past him, to the kitchen, and was coming back with a box of matches. She lit a few colorful candles that were scattered on various surfaces, and when she lit one close to him, he took his chance to gather her in his arms. "Jay?"
"Matty?" She giggled, imitating his tone, and waving the match in the air to turn it off.
"Why... what... I mean I love this but... why?"
"Just a small way to welcome you home. New York missed you, and so did I." She kissed his cheek. "This week I missed not seeing you on stage every night, and I just realized I hadn't really told you how proud I am of you. It's a terrible mistake and I needed to own up to it."
He grinned. "Oh. Okay then..." He walked to the table, to survey the dessert and its dimensions. "Are we having people over or did you decide to make me fat?"
She giggled. "Nobody is coming over. You're having your big afterparty tomorrow night. We can share the cake with your band tomorrow, if you want." She took his hand. "Tonight is just for us."
He grinned, and pulled her closer. "I can't wait to be your husband."
She winked, and wiggled out of his hold, reaching the table to get the wrapped package. "Wait 'til you see your present before you decide."
"Why a present? It's not my birthday and it's not Christmas! You're breaking the rules already."
"Oh, shut up. I wanted to do this and I did. So what? Break up with me." She stuck out her tongue cheekily, and he laughed, taking the gift and shaking it lightly.
"No noise... no holes for air either so I can safely assume it's not a puppy?"
"Don't you think a dog and two cats could be enough?? Come on! Open."
He smirked. "Yes, ma'am."
He carefully set aside the silver bow, and then tore the paper open quickly, like a kid on Christmas morning. He studied the object in front of him. It was a book. Or looked like one. The cover had a group picture of him and his band, and the writing "What I did last summer..." under it.
Slowly, his eyes wide in surprise, he opened it. It was a photo album, full of pictures she had and a few of his bandmates had taken throughout the tour, and a few of their holiday in Italy and France as well. It was all divided chronologically, starting with his concert in London in June, and ending with a few blank pages, with the names of his next concert stops already written on top. The pages reserved for his solo concert, the following night, were the most, more than ten. She had borrowed his Canon camera for the tour, claiming hers wasn't good enough, and they had spent long hours on the bus going through the features of the machine. Her skills as a photographer had greatly improved in just a few weeks, and he skimmed quickly through the pages, before looking up at her, a few held back tears in his eyes. He motioned for her to sit on his lap, and she gladly complied, as he set the album in front of her, opening it at page one, where it read "London - June 13".
"What about the cake?"
"Later." He kissed her. "Now I want to relive this summer with you..." She laid her back on his chest, and he closed his grasp tighter. "This is the most thoughtful gift anyone has ever given me." He kissed the hollow of her neck, and breathed on her skin. "Thank you."
-----
The next two days had passed in a blur of emotion, walking through their neighborhood together, Jayma finally realizing she was about to become almost a New Yorker, his concert, where his talent and passion for performing had reached its top level so far, his many interviews and charity engagements, that had brought them all over the city, the fans stopping them every other block to congratulate him for the show or ask them for a picture. It was crazy, but they were loving it.
She had managed to meet up with their planner on the day after the concert, when he was busy with work, and had settled the final touches. They wouldn't be back in town until just a few days before the actual wedding, and everything needed to be ready. She remembered the planning for her first wedding, the anxiety and discussions and worries, and wondered why it was all so easy this time around, and then was remembered it was her second one, and something inside of her broke every time, and she forced herself to stop thinking about that altogether. This was it. Second or first, this was it, for the both of them.
-----
Before either of them realized it, the tour was over and they were back on the set of Glee for their costume fittings. Emma was going to wear even better clothes this year, she had already got her eye on a couple of skirts, and when she saw him emerge from the trailer in his sweater vest, after two months of t-shirts and D&G suits, she did a double take. Mr Schue was back.
They loved seeing everyone after two whole months apart, it had been the longest they had spent not seeing each other from their first day of rehearsals for the pilot, and they had missed one another sorely. The first few days were spent catching up on everyone's summer adventures; Jayma and Dianna spent many breaks between scenes telling the others about his "epic" -from their descriptions- New York concert, while he shielded away, feeling himself blush with pride and modesty.
Another two weeks, and everything he could hear about was his bachelor party, and Jayma's bachelorette one. Dianna and Jayma's sister, as Jayma's bridesmaids, were in charge of her party, while his two best friends, Rick and Brian, had planned his. He didn't know a thing about it, except for the one word the uttered to him: "Vegas."
They parted on a Saturday morning of August with a kiss, Matt headed to the airport for the short flight to Sin City, Jayma leaving on Dianna's car for a shorter ride to a famous spa, where they were to pamper themselves before their wild night ahead.
As they said goodbye to each other, she playfully reminded him of his glasses, for she wanted him to give those strippers "a good last look".
He mockingly gave a double take. "Strippers? What strippers? I don't know anything about tonight. The guys have kept me completely in the dark."
"Well, I hope they planned for one. I don't want to be staring at my male strippers feeling guilty." She was cheeky and funny, and all he wanted to do was call his friends, tell them he was sick, and lock themselves in the bedroom for the next forty-eight hours.
"Hmmm, if you want to make me jealous you've reached your goal." He grabbed her by her waist, and pulled her closer, as Dianna was approaching their gate on a car. "Just looking, no touching, right?"
She smirked. "You don't have to tell me that, mister."
"You're the only one I want to be touching. Now would be good, actually..."
"Ha, sorry sweetie. Di's here."
He pouted, just like in one of his pics as a kid his mom had shown her once, and she pulled him down for one last kiss. "I love you. See you tomorrow."
-----
They met back at their house on Sunday evening. Jayma's eyes were shining like someone who's had a great night out with friends. They had spent their day at a hotel close to LA, between the spa and the pool, and at night, after a hilarious dinner with incredibly ambiguous talks and gifts, of which edible underwear had been the tamest, they had hit a club, the roof level reserved just for them, all of her girlfriends gathered together to dance and drink and have a good time. After yet another round of tequila, a huge box was delivered to her, and within seconds she had been dragged to the center of the stage by two male dancers, barely clad in revealing underwear. She was so intoxicated not to feel too ashamed, as she would have under normal circumstances, and had danced with them for a while, keeping her promise to never even lay a finger on either, until two of her single friends snatched one each, and she gladly took a seat at the bar, unable to contain her laughter.
Matt's night had been a bit wilder, first dinner at a famous Vegas restaurant, and then the most celebrated nightclub, the private floor entirely reserved to them. They had hit the blackjack and poker tables, his friend Brian daring him to another bet, after the one that had gained him a tattoo with his best friend's initials. Luck was on his side though, and by the end of the night Brian had been forced to go on the dancefloor and propose to every woman that came within a two-foot distance from him. Matt thought he'd never laughed this hard in his life. His night was spiced up by a group of four strippers, who danced around him and on his lap, until he felt a little uncomfortable and motioned for his friends to join the dances, as Rick mocked him, wondering where his old, womanizer friend had gone.
"I used to be the good, reliable guy, and you the screwup, and now? Both so responsible, and committed."
He laughed. "Thank God for Brian, then," as their friend carelessly danced with two strippers.
He recounted this and more to her as they snuggled up on a sunbed by their swimming pool, the sound of her laughter spreading in his chest and warming him like a balm, her hand caressing his stubbly cheek, his voice rough and his eyes sleepy from the previous night.
"Twelve days."
She entwined their fingers together. "Twelve days. Can you believe it? It's so exciting!"
He grinned. "Twelve days. There's a fair chance I'm gonna love you more than I do right now in twelve days."
She pulled away a little, trying hard to hide her giggle. "My God, you're so cheesy."
He pulled her closer again, grinning. "Shut up and kiss me."
-----
She looked out of the window. 7pm on a Friday night, Hell's Kitchen was beginning to get animated, She loved being here, exploring the city streets with Matt, his favorite burger joint, the best place for breakfast in town, that small bookstore that had an old albums section in the back.
Though they hadn't done much of that in the previous two days... September 2nd. In less than 24 hours she'd be his wife. They had rehearsed the ceremony and mock-married each other less than an hour before. Were they rushing? Were they ready? What had he written in his vows? Would her great-uncle drink too much and embarass her like every time there was a family gathering?
She puffed lightly as she applied some eye-shadow. The light green dress she had chosen for the night made her pale skin and red hair stand out, her eyelids now in the same shade of color. She looked great, but she was hardly paying attention to her outfit or make-up, her mind too preoccupied with the upcoming events.
He stepped out of the bathroom rubbing his palms together, drying out the last drops of Lubriderm he had just applied to his curls. and stopped for a second to stare at her from the doorframe. He loved watching her as she fretted about the house, fixing her hair and make up, trying out a dozen different pairs of shoes. She settled for a pair of nude-looking Louboutin and matching purse, and turned around to gather a few belongings.
"You look stunning."
She smiled. "You don't look too bad yourself, you know."
"Are you ready?" He stepped closer and took her hand, and she drew in a long breath.
"Ready."
Silently, both lost in their own thoughts, they reached the car that was waiting for them downstairs, and drove off to meet their families and friends for their rehearsal dinner.
-----
The night had been surprisingly smooth, their respective families were meshing nicely, and their friends had already been one big mixed group for a few months. He was lazily surveying his third glass of champagne, wondering whether to drink it or pass, his right hand stroking her kneecap and lower thigh under the table, when his dad stood up, a glass in his hand, and the room fell quiet.
"Good evening, everyone. My name is Thomas Morrison, and I'm Matt's dad." He smiled at his son, and continued. "I would just like to say how incredibly happy I am. Not just for this dinner, and not just for tomorrow, even though I don't think I'm gonna be able to sleep much tonight." There were a few "awww" from the audience. "Matthew and I are very tight. Always have been, even when we were living on opposite sides of the country. I've seen my boy through a lot, I've seen him happy, and sad, crushed and hopeful. But I've never, in the past, seen him as happy as he's been since February of last year. And when I met Jayma, and realized how lovely she is, I wasn't surprised at all." He turned to them, and laid a hand on his son's shoulder. "So thank you, Jayma, for making my son so happy. I know he'll work his best to do the same for you. I couldn't have asked for a better daughter-in-law." He raised his glass. "To Matt and Jayma! May tomorrow be just the first of the happiest days of your life! Cheers!" He clinked his champagne glass with the both of them, and then turned around to do the same with his wife, Jayma's parents and pretty much anyone in his arms reach, while the bride and groom-to-be engaged in a shorter kiss than they'd have liked, and a long hug.
"I can really see where you got your charming self from..."
He laughed. "Nah, my dad is ten times as charming as I'll ever be."
She looked cheekily at him. "Oh, I know. But he's taken, unfortunately."
"Ouch." He mimicked being punched in the stomach. "That was my ego, in case you were wondering."
Giggling, she took his face in her hands for a kiss, and then motioned behind him. "My dad just got up. It's gonna be a long night of speeches..."
-----
"Are you sure you have to go?"
"Yes, baby, it's tradition."
He pouted, alcohol clouding his mind and slurring his speech. "It's a stupid tradition. I want to sleep with you tonight."
She smiled, a little less intoxicated than he was, and cupped his cheek. "We'll have a lot of nights to spend together in the future."
His glazed eyes smiled. "You promise?"
"I can absolutely promise you this."
His arms closed around her waist, and suddenly he was surrounded by her perfume, her warmth, and didn't want to ever let go. "You know how much I love you, right?"
She just nodded, her head resting just below his left shoulder, just beside his heart, and pressed a kiss to his jacket-covered chest.
"Okay. Good. That's good. You just... remember it tonight, and... and..." he scratched his throat, and she knew it was not because of the champagne he had drunk. "...and just... don't change your mind in the next fifteen hours, okay?"
She looked up at him, her eyes teary. "I will never -never- change my mind. I love you."
He smiled, and all was good again. "I love you too, Jayma Mays."
"This is the last time you can say that, you know? No more Mays from tomorrow."
"I'll have to get used to it."
Jayma's sister gently touched her shoulder. "When you're ready, the car's waiting for us."
"Right, of course. I'll be right there. Thank you." Her sister left them, a knowing smirk on her face, and she turned back to her fiancè. "I have to go..."
He kept shaking his head. "No, no, no, that's not gonna happen because I'm not releasing you. And we both know I'm stronger than you so, here it goes. You have to come back home. We can get married in jeans."
She burst into laughter. "Sounds... mature." Her hands sneaked up behind his neck, and she kissed him deeply. "See you tomorrow at four. I'll be the one in the dress."
"Wait, you mean YOU are wearing the dress? What am I going to do with mine?"
She almost choked from laughing. "Well, we're gonna have interesting pictures, that's for sure."
"I love you. Forgive my silliness. Goodnight."
"Thank God for your silliness. I love you."
She forced herself to walk past him and through the restaurant door, trying hard not to cry. It was just one night. Just one night. Just the one night before September 3rd. As the car sped to the hotel where her family and most of Matt's were staying too, she allowed herself a good cry on her sister's shoulder, allowing nerves and exhaustion to leave her body.
-----
September 3rd, 2011 was a nice day in New York City. The sky was clear, and the end-of-summer sun was still warm enough for people to take lazy walks in their Saturday mornings.
Not that he cared. He had been staring out of his bedroom window for a long time, not really focusing on anything, his head pulsing with a single thought.
He needed to run.
_______________________
One chapter to go! So exciting. I think you can guess the day when chapter 50 will be published. ;)
I hope you enjoyed the ride! And thank you everyone who stops to say even just a word, it means a lot to me.
One last thing. I've never done this but I have an author reccomendation for you: Sierra-Jae is an amazing writer, and anyone who loves Will and Emma (or just good writing) is gonna love her. I don't even know if she reads this fic, but it doesn't really matter. Good stories should be spread around. :)
And now, we have a wedding to go to... or do we?