a/n: Hello everyone! This is my newest one-shot, written over a couple all-nighters I've pulled this week. It's from a prompt given to me by my wonderful amazing twin foreverGleek20 and I can't thank her enough for always pushing me out of my comfort zone and making me better for it. Love you bb! Anyway, if any of you follow me on twitter, this is the story I've been talking about for the past couple of days. Hope you enjoy! There's a lot of hidden meanings in this story and if you want to know what they are but haven't found them after reading, just asked in a REVIEW and I'll be happy to share. It's a future!fic set in NYC! I do not own "Phonography" or Glee. Enjoy!
Rachel growled just a little bit as she removed the headphones from around her neck and placed them on the microphone in front of her. The recording for her sophomore album was almost finished but something, and she couldn't quite place her finger on it, was missing.
Shortly before graduating from Julliard, an agent had approached her about possibly signing with his label. At the time, Broadway was all that was on the young starlet's mind so she politely declined his offer. The man was persistent though, showing up at all of her recitals and shows, practically begging her to sign a contract with them. He told her she had exactly the talent they were looking for and a record deal could be just what she needed to really break in to the business. In a final attempt to make the man give up and go away, she told him that she would think about it and took his card.
After a little research into the man and the record label he worked for, the idea of becoming a professional singer just wouldn't leave her alone. Could she do it? Would she be successful at it? What doors could something like that open for her? Plenty of actors in TV and movies had taken to Broadway and been very successful at it. Why couldn't she do the same? So, she waited until after graduation to call him and set up a meeting, just to further explore her options. Two weeks later, after millions of negotiations, phone calls, and meetings, Rachel signed a contract.
Her first album went platinum in its first week out and suddenly everyone knew her name. Broadway, though ever-present in her mind, was no longer the sole dream anymore. She had new dreams to go right along with it.
The second she returned to New York after her tour, work on her second album began. She'd written a lot of songs while traveling the country and had been very eager to get back to the studio to lay some of them down. After a month of recording, she was positive that this album would be even better than the first. If only she could figure out what was missing.
The slides on the soundboard moved under his fingers while his other hand adjusted the treble and bass balances for the song blasting though the headphones on his ears. The only thing Noah could have done without as a music producer was all the tedious fine tuning that went into it. Each song he worked with was different. Many long nights, after the various artists had gone home, were spent doing just this. He had a knack for taking the musicians' vision for their music and turning it into an award-winning and stunning jar of honey to the listener's ears.
Music production in New York City was seriously not where he'd ever pictured his life going. On a total fluke, he'd applied for a scholarship to NYU during his junior year at OSU. And he got it. So, when he got to New York, he immersed himself in the city. He was already majoring in music so he easily fell into a group of friends who all happened to play in various bands around the city. One of those bands happened to be attempting to record a demo and asked him if he'd help out with it. That was when he'd caught the production bug.
After giving it serious thought and consideration, like seriously, (the only thing he'd ever given so much thought to was getting laid and giving up a daughter in a high school) he decided to double major in music composition and production. Knowing he'd have to work his ass off didn't even bother him because he finally knew what he wanted to do with his life. It was something that could get him prestige in the industry and he really enjoyed doing it at the same time. Working for it just made it better, made him feel like he'd really earned it.
And earn it he did. He graduated with honors and offers from a couple different labels to work as a producer. Because he basically ended up with so many offers, he took his pick of the best and got comfortable at his new dream job.
Rachel decided that she needed a break from recording. The oomph she was searching for just wasn't revealing itself to her in the studio. And she needed coffee. Really bad. She told her band to take a break for lunch and shrugged into her red pea coat. There was a coffee shop just around the corner that she would probably marry if she had the chance. Stepping out of the building, she placed her big sunglasses over her eyes in an attempt to prevent too many people from recognizing her. She adored her fans but sometimes she just wanted to get a damn coffee without being chased by people with autograph notebooks.
When she walked in, it was like the much needed caffeine was already seeping into her pores and perking her up, just from the scent! She was perfectly aware of her addiction and had no plans of seeking rehab for it. As she stood in the line at the counter, waiting to place her order and keeping her head down, she heard him. That smooth voice, the one that never quite would leave her mind completely, was near. Rachel looked up quickly in the direction of where she'd heard his voice and saw him. He'd just sat down at a table by the window, slowly sipping from his coffee and conversing with a friend sitting across from him.
Rachel hadn't really seen Noah Puckerman since leaving Ohio after graduating from high school. She'd seen him once or twice at various functions they'd both attended but other than that, they were just acquaintances who happened be more acquainted than most people realized.
When she'd placed her coffee order and looked back to his table, she noticed that his friend was leaving. Noah told the other man goodbye and began to flip through what looked like a guitar magazine. Rachel heard the name Barbra called from behind the counter and turned to get her drink. (It was much easier in places like that to use her middle name, lest someone recognize her.) Taking a deep breath and a long sip, she walked over to the man.
"Is this seat taken?" Her soft question caused him to look up. It wasn't until he got to her face, which he took his sweet time getting to since he was so busy checking out her legs on the way up, that he recognized her. He smirked and waved his hand for her to sit down.
"Rachel Berry," he said with a smile, "or, should I call you Barbra in public?" Rachel laughed at his little joke, realizing he'd heard her name get called to pick up her coffee.
"Rachel is fine Noah. Just please don't yell it out or anything." Noah closed his magazine and she watched his smirk take on a slightly more predatory vibe.
"I can think of a few situations we could get in that we could yell a lot of things." Rachel couldn't help laughing out loud when he said that, but still felt something heat up inside her at the bluntness of his comment.
"Glad to see you haven't changed too much. How's life been treating you lately? I hear you've become pretty successful with your producing. I think that's fantastic." Noah nodded his head and leaned forward, resting his arms on the table.
"I'm doing pretty good thanks. You're doing good for yourself though. Been a busy woman from what I can tell. Top ten recording artist, sold out national tour, most viewed music videos on YouTube. I'd say you got it made babe." Rachel peered at him over her glasses and cocked her head to the side.
"Noah Puckerman, have you been checking up on me?" Noah just rolled his eyes but she noticed the way his cheeks darkened just a little bit.
"Not sure if you noticed, but you're everywhere. It's sorta difficult to not know about you. And besides, part of my job is knowing what's hot in the industry. You're on fire Rachel." He held up the magazine he'd been reading earlier and added, "your guitarist is getting a lot of attention even. Definitely didn't expect to see him in this magazine but there's an article and everything." She grinned as she looked at the article. Her guitarist, a guy name Mark she'd grown close to during her time at Julliard, had never told her anything about doing an interview for the magazine. She made a mental note to congratulate him when she got back to the studio and then turned her attention back to the man in front of her. "So what are you doing out of the studio today? Aren't you supposed to be recording another album or something?" Rachel huffed out a breath and took another sip of her coffee.
"I needed a break for a little bit. One of the songs, something just isn't falling into place the way I know it should and it's very frustrating. I've already bitten off the heads of a couple people this morning alone and I'm sure I've done it countless other times without realizing it. I just require perfection and that tends to be a problem with some people." Noah smirked again and leaned back in his seat.
"Looks pretty good from where I'm sitting." Rachel just smiled back at him. She wasn't sure if their familiarity was to blame or what, but she felt an attraction to him. "So, you seeing anybody that the tabloids don't know about yet?"
"Actually I am doing the single ladies dance now. I had dated a guy before my tour last year but he was apparently just using me to get back at his ex who broke his heart. I accidentally stumbled upon his shrine to her one night and had to get rid of him immediately. I always seem to have the worst taste in men." Noah laughed at her ramble about the crazy ex and mentally did a little bit of a victory dance.
"I can remember a time, way back when, that your taste in guys wasn't too bad." He shot her a smile when she realized that he was talking about their own fleeting times together back in their teenage years. "So, what do you say, next time you get a break for something more than coffee, we hang out and catch up a little better? Sound good to you?" Rachel bit her bottom lip and reached across the table to grab the pen sticking out of his shirt pocket. She picked his coffee cup up from the table and wrote her phone number just beneath his name. As she handed it and the pen back to him, Rachel answered,
"Sounds great." Just then, her phone started vibrating in her pocket and she realized that she'd been out far longer than originally anticipated. What a surprise. Noah Puckerman still had that quality about him that made her forget everything around her. "I should get back to the studio. I wouldn't put it past my publicist to send out a search party. She's a little neurotic, and that means something coming from me." As she stood up from the table, he did too and rolled up his magazine. Sticking it in his back pocket, he looked back at her and smiled again. She couldn't remember ever seeing him smile so much. He had a really nice smile.
"I'll walk you back then." Rachel couldn't bring herself to say 'no thanks', not that she would even want to, but still. She had no real desire to seem desperate. However, the looks he kept giving her were bringing up another very real desire.
As they walked down the street, Noah made many lewd comments just trying, more or less, to see if she would react in the same way she would have in high school. By the time they made it to the front of the building that housed the studio and all he'd gotten from the woman was haughty laughter and retorts about how spending months on a tour bus with four other guys had successfully prepared her for any possible colorful comments he could come up with, he was running out of ideas. Noah wasn't afraid to admit that he felt the attraction between them. But he still wanted to see if he could at least get a blush to color her cheeks.
"Well Noah, I have definitely enjoyed catching up with you. Thank you for the walk as well." He shrugged his shoulders and replied,
"Not a problem Rach." As he pulled her closer for a friendly little goodbye hug, he got an idea. Turning his head to whisper in her ear, "You know, I might call you in the middle of the night for some phone sex sometime. Just a warning." She didn't even stiffen in his arms, which automatically threw him off just slightly. But when she pulled back, the smirk on her face was filled with pure heat. She bumped her coffee cup against his, her number still written on it in her neat script, in a toasting motion.
"Sounds like you shouldn't lose that cup then." She used his shocked pause to her advantage and said, "I'll take that to mean I can expect your call. See you later Noah." With that, she turned around and walked into the building. And if she swayed her hips just a little bit more than she usually would, well that's pure coincidence.
Noah watched from his place on the sidewalk, peering into the building until she disappeared into the elevator, and then realized that he looked like a crazy person. He looked down at the coffee cup in his hand and grinned. Oh she could definitely expect his call. He quickly typed out a text message, if for nothing else than to have the last word, and smirked to himself as he thought of the effect it might have on her.
Rachel's phone chirped to life as she walked into the studio. Without checking it, she looked around the room at all of her band members and rolled her eyes. "Seriously guys, I wasn't gone that long. Stop texting me." All four guys looked at her like they didn't have a clue what she was talking about. Mark, the guitarist she still needed to hound about the article he'd never told her about, just plucked a couple strings on his guitar and replied,
"We only texted you once Rach and that was like ten minutes ago." Rachel shifted her coffee into her other hand and pulled her phone out of her pocket. Opening her unread messages, she didn't recognize the number and immediately knew it was Noah. When she read it however, she blushed profusely and couldn't help the girlish giggle that escaped her lips. Turning to face the door, she responded to his message.
*Noah flattered as I am by your flagrant proposition to help me relieve some stress I don't have time right now for your phone pornography ;)*
As she closed her phone, her own words replayed in her mind. Phone pornography…phonography…hmm. Suddenly, an idea formed in her mind for a song and she knew that she had her missing link.
She sat down on the couch with her drummer, the man responsible for helping her flesh out song ideas whenever she wanted to write, and grabbed the pencil and notepad from his hand.
"I have a new song guys."
Noah looked down at the package he'd just signed for. He recognized Rachel's feminine loopy letters on the small cardboard box in his hands, but it didn't make any sense to him. They'd just seen each other the day before, had lunch together even, and she'd never mentioned anything about sending him a package. He thought about calling her and asking about the mysterious box but remembered that her album was about to drop in the next couple of days and she would most likely be way too busy to tell him what was in a package when he could just as easily open it and see.
As he started picking absently at the tape that held the box's flaps down, he thought about all the time they'd been spending together since re-meeting in the coffee house that afternoon almost a month ago. Since then, they'd gotten, closer, to say the least. Their shameless flirting had definitely escalated to more than just a few offhand comments between friends. There was always something, a not-so-subtle undertone or a touch of a hand, indicating that interest was definitely behind the remarks they made to one another. He'd gone out for drinks one night with some friends from work and ended up getting pretty buzzed but not totally drunk. Either way, his thoughts had led him to her so he ended up texting her that night. His text started with a not so innocent 'what are you wearing' comment. Noah sobered up pretty quickly when her response was 'a little lace' and a winky-face emoticon. They never finished the conversation because he ended up jumping into a cold shower before it could get anywhere good. The next morning, he woke up with a slight hangover and a voicemail of her laughing that it got too hot for him. At the end of that voicemail though was an invitation to continue that conversation whenever he felt up for it.
Quickly, he fished his pocketknife out and ripped into the box like he was searching for buried treasure. He looked inside and saw a note. As he grabbed the piece of paper, he finally noticed what had been under it. It was a CD, Rachel's CD. On the album cover, there was a picture of her sitting at a table holding a cherry between her teeth. The dress she was wearing was short, probably more like a long shirt with a bunch of feathers on the bottom. Her legs were swung out to her side and crossed, the five inch heels on her tiny feet making her legs look even miles longer than they already appeared. She looked fucking hot. Across the bottom of the cover, the CD's title "Unbroken Talent" was in bright red letters. He couldn't help laughing a little bit at the title, remembering a buttered floor and a fallen diva back in high school, figuring that's how she came up with it. He unfolded the note and read it with widening eyes.
Noah, this is an advanced copy of my new album. I thought you might enjoy it a little bit since you've been asking me for the past month when it would be finished. Here it is.
P.S. I think you should listen to track eight first though. It's my favorite and you were the muse for it after all.
Noah took the CD out of the box and tossed the cardboard over his shoulder. He walked over to his entertainment system and slipped the disc into its slot. Pressing play, he turned the volume up and sat back down on his couch.
The dark dance beat started and his head bobbed a little without his permission. As the lyrics progressed, it became very clear what the song was talking about. By the time it got to the chorus, the seductive tone in her voice was about to do him in.
Let's talk about biology
Make believe you're next to me
Talk that sexy talk to me
Better make sure that the line is clean
Keep it confidential, you and me
Dirty talking, call it phonography
Phone sex! He wasn't sure what to be more surprised about. The fact that Rachel had written a song that he'd apparently inspired, or the fact that the song in question was about a subject that they'd almost given in to once or twice in the past month. It was pretty clear to him that this song wasn't just Rachel Berry being the sexy vixen she'd grown into over the years. No, this woman didn't do anything without a reason behind it. She'd sent him this song with a message attached, and not just the handwritten one sitting beside him, but a message meant only for him. The line "what I'm 'bout to say right here is just for your ears to hear" told him that much. Well, he got the message loud and clear.
Barely waiting for the song to finish, he took his phone out of his pocket and went into his bedroom. When Rachel picked up the phone, he could hear the smile in her voice.
"Well hello Noah. I trust you got the package I sent you." Not wanting to waste any time, he said,
"I knew you wanted me." His voice was much raspier than he meant it to be but it didn't really matter. "Are you alone," he asked her. If she wanted to accuse him of inspiring a song about phone sex then he was sure as hell gonna reap the royalties from providing that inspiration.
"Actually I am Noah. I guess you liked the song." Her voice was all coy, like she had the upper hand and knew it. That just made him think of her hands, wrapping around his dick and…okay back to the conversation.
"A little too much probably. What are you wearing?" She giggled and he was reminded of the first time he'd text that same question to her.
"Perhaps a nightgown. Although, I could be wearing pajamas. Or maybe, just maybe Noah, nothing but a smile. What would you have me wear?" Noah growled into the phone as his hard-on had started straining uncomfortably against the zipper of his jeans.
"A smile, definitely a smile." He heard a satisfied sigh in his ear and sat down on his bed.
"Good choice. As a warning Noah, I refuse to be a call girl in this little game. I want to get you off, but I expect the same in return. Are we clear?" Noah was pretty sure at that point that he'd just died and gone to heaven. Instead of answering her, he grinned and replied,
"I bet you're soaked for me right now, aren't you? Come on Rach, you were thinking of me when you recorded that song. You were imagining my cock, deep inside that sweet little pussy of yours, weren't you? Are you thinking of it now baby?" He listened to the sound of her breath quickening and figured he might as well shuck his pants before he ended up breaking the zipper.
"Yes Noah, I haven't stopped thinking about it since that day in the coffee shop. God I'm so wet Noah." He shuddered out a breath and quickly palmed himself, rubbing his thumb over the head and moaning before he could stop it.
"Are you touching yourself babe?" She released this high pitched sound, like she was biting her lip to keep from whimpering out loud. "I want you to stroke your clit Rachel." She made another sound and he knew she was doing as she was told.
"What about you Noah? What are you imagining as you work yourself? My hands? My mouth? My p—" He cut her off with a groan, knowing that if heard use the word, this would all be over way too soon.
"Everything baby, all of it. I want it all. I want your hands to leave scratches down my back as I fuck you Rachel." He heard the way her breath hitched when he said the word 'fuck' and knew exactly how to get her off. "You like it when I talk dirty, don't you? You want my dick buried inside that tight little pussy." He stopped talking completely, desperately wanting her response.
"Yes I want to feel you inside me. I want to ride you hard until you come for me Noah. I'm going to feel you explode and milk you for everything you've got. My body is aching for you right now Noah. Right now, I'm imagining your hard cock pumping into my body, instead of my fingers. My hands are so small Noah. Can't you just see them now, glistening because I'm soaked for you?"
He couldn't believe what he was hearing and he wasn't sure what was better, hearing her say all these things or imagining her doing all of them and more. Noah started to stroke faster, his breath coming in short gasps and he knew he was so fucking close. Just when he opened his mouth to keep her going, he heard a sound from the front of his apartment. A soft knocking sound. The damn universe hated him.
"Fuck! Somebody's at the door Rachel. Just give me a second to get rid of them." Rachel giggled on the other line and she replied coyly,
"Why don't you see who it is Noah? I'm not going anywhere." He heard the knock again and growled as he tucked himself back into his jeans as carefully as possible. His erection was bordering on blue-ball worthy as he made his way down the hallway and back into his living room. Noah had his phone against his chest, hoping like hell that Rachel couldn't hear him, or that she hadn't hung up on him.
When he opened his door, he was fully prepared to yell at whoever the fuck it was and slam the door in their face. However, the sight he was greeted with almost caused him to blow his load.
Rachel was standing in his doorway. Rachel fucking Berry, the woman he'd just been sexing up over the phone, the reason for the massive and painful tent in his jeans, quite possibly the sexiest woman alive, standing in his fucking doorway! Her hair was wild and sexy while her body was covered by a black trench coat that stopped about mid-thigh. Her legs ended with a pair of deep violet spiked heels and he had to mentally stop the drool from running out of his mouth.
The next thing he knew, she was melding her lips to his and backing him up further into the apartment. Considering he wasn't completely positive that she wasn't a hallucination brought forth by his severe case of blue balls, he slipped his tongue past her lips before she could disappear from his arms. When he felt her nails clawing at the t-shirt on his back, just like he'd told her he wanted, he was pretty sure she was fucking real. She pulled his shirt over his head and started working on the buttons to his jeans before he was able to form coherent sentences.
"What the hell are you doing here Rachel?" With a satisfied huff of triumph, she shoved his pants down his legs and he fell backwards onto the couch. Her eyes were dark and hungry as she stared back at him.
"Giving us what we both want Noah. I wasn't kidding when I said I want to feel you inside me. I get what I want, and I want you." At that, she ripped the trench coat open revealing a lace bra and panty set that matched her shoes and left very very little to the imagination. The coat dropped to the floor and Noah felt his mouth go completely dry. "I've been planning this for the past few weeks Noah." He groaned and clinched his hands onto the couch cushions as she stepped closer to him.
"You are so fucking hot right now." She smirked at him and leaned over him by placing her hands on the tops of his thighs, giving him a great view of her boobs. He felt something cold in her hand and looked down to see a condom. Where the hell had that come from? She must have taken it out of her coat pocket but he'd been just a little distracted by, oh I don't know, her taking the fucking thing off!
Rachel pressed her mouth to his again and he was reminded of how amazing her tongue was. He hissed when he realized that she was rolling the condom down his length but never broke the kiss. When she pulled away a second later though, it was totally bittersweet. Noah watched in awe as she unclasped the bra and let it fall away from her body following it quickly with the panties. She straddled his legs and placed her hands on his shoulders before meeting his eyes. He noted that her breathing was a little shallow too.
"Gotta warn you babe, after that phone call, I can't guarantee this is gonna last very long." Rachel just smiled at him and ran her tongue along his top lip before whispering,
"I've got plenty of condoms and time. Once with you will never be enough for me." And before he could process her words, she sank down until he was fully sheathed inside her. Both of them gasped for air immediately. As Rachel threw her head back with a moan that was purely primal, Noah latched his mouth onto her nipple. He was determined to make her come first, no matter how close he'd been at the start of this.
Rachel started rolling her whole body over his, running her nails down his chest and riding him as she'd promised, as he sucked on the rosy bud. He planted his feet firmer on the floor and thrust up into her. Her movements stopped for a second and her mouth fell open before she started up again, quicker than before. With one hand on her breast, he trailed the other down her stomach to the juncture between her thighs. When she came down again, his finger was waiting for her. Pressing the digit firmly against her clit, she cried out and shuddered in his arms. The vise-like clenching of her muscles around his dick was the last straw and he spent himself in the condom as a guttural sound ripped from his throat. He moved his hands to her throat and kept rocking with her through their orgasms, even more satisfied when she twisted her tongue around his. Her hand curled around his neck as she kept their mouths together.
When they finally separated, Noah slipped his hands down a couple inches and gave her pert ass a firm squeeze. Rachel rose up off of him and collapsed beside him on the couch for a second before he finally got up to dispose of the condom. She was staring at him with this look of total satisfaction when he got back and he didn't even bother fighting the grin on his face. Noah stood in front of her a moment before she got up as well. With a 'come hither' look in her eyes, she crooked her finger at him and he moved closer. Slanting his mouth over hers and pulling her close, still relishing the feel of her skin on his, Noah could already tell that it wouldn't be long before he was ready to go again, not with her doing the things she was doing. As she led him down the hall to his bedroom, he said,
"You know, I'm pretty sure track eight is my favorite song ever now."
Hope you enjoyed! I know I had so much fun writing it!