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"You're half a beat off," someone shouts into Rachel's ear, and for a second Rachel is sure she must be dreaming, or possibly having a stroke, because that sounds exactly like--
"You must be Cassandra July," Kurt's shouting, holding his hand out over Rachel's shoulder. "I'm Kurt Hummel, big fan and prospective NYADA student, nice to meet you!"
Rachel only barely manages to resist groaning and dropping her head against Kurt's shoulder, but she takes a deep breath and forces herself to turn around. She's an adult. She can do this. Even if it seems massively unfair that her evil dance teacher is now stalking her.
"Miss July," Rachel says. "What are you doing here?"
"It's a club, Schwimmer, I'm dancing," Cassandra says, rolling her eyes as she grinds back against the tall, dark-haired guy behind her. "And unlike some people, I'm doing it well."
"I wasn't really focusing on my technique," Rachel says, shouting to be heard over the music. "I'm just here for fun."
"Ugh, technique. That's your whole problem," Cassandra says. "You have no rhythm, thus you don't know how to move to the music, thus you will never be a good dancer, regardless of how much you practice your technique."
"Hooooly meow," Kurt whispers into her ear as Rachel tries to stutter out some kind of defense.
"You, we're done here," Cassandra says, waving a hand dismissively over her shoulder until the guy she was dancing with slinks off. "Hummer, I'm going to borrow Schwimmer," she says, grabbing onto Rachel's wrist and tugging until Rachel's hurrying after her to avoid tripping. She mouths help me! at Kurt, but he just holds up his hands and shakes his head, eyes wide.
"Miss July," Rachel says helplessly, "I'm here with my friend, this isn't exactly--" she cuts off with an embarrassing gasp when Cassandra stops suddenly, letting go of Rachel's wrist and grabbing onto her hips instead. "Um."
"Stop calling me Miss July, we're not in class," Cassandra says, pulling Rachel closer by her hips and leaning in to be heard. "And stop sputtering at me like I'm trying to kidnap you. We're dancing, and your little friend can wait. Now if I were you, I'd stop complaining and take advantage of what is essentially off-hour tutoring, because it's not a service I offer to just anyone."
"I-- okay," Rachel says. They're in a relatively uncrowded corner of the club, a little too close to the speakers, and Rachel's ears are ringing as Cassandra starts moving, her hands guiding Rachel's hips to follow along. "What should I call you?" Rachel asks, swallowing around the sudden lump in her throat. "If not Miss July, I mean," she adds, her voice squeaking embarrassingly when Cassandra guides them into a kind of obscene hip roll.
"That depends," Cassandra says, spinning Rachel around so quickly that she almost trips and pressing in close all along her back, "on how well you dance." Rachel nods dumbly and tries to ignore the press of Cassandra's breasts along her back and the way her hand is settled low on Rachel's stomach, hot over her skirt as she guides Rachel's hips.
"The secret to good dancing is knowing your body," Cassandra says, her lips brushing Rachel's ear as she speaks. "Not in a hand mirror Our Bodies, Ourselves way, I mean knowing your body. Knowing exactly how to move it to get what you want out of it." She rolls their bodies then, a slow, dirty kind of grind that makes Rachel's face flush hot. "I don't care if you're playing Roxie or Elphaba, you should be able to move your body well enough to seduce the entire audience into feeling exactly what it is you want them to feel."
"So how do- how do I know my body if I don't already?" Rachel asks, feeling her face heat up even more.
"Are you a virgin, Rachel?" Cassandra asks, grinding her hips in closer against Rachel's ass.
"That's not-- that's none of your business," Rachel says, her body going tense. "My sex life has nothing to do with my dance ability."
"First of all, that's a yes, and second of all it has everything to do with your dance ability," Cassandra says, sliding down Rachel's body, her breasts sliding along Rachel's back and over her ass.
"It is not a yes," Rachel says, stepping away from Cassandra and turning to face her, her embarrassment mostly gone in favor of anger. "Not that it's any of your business, but I've had sex before."
"Hmm," Cassandra says, raising an eyebrow. "It must not have been very good sex then."
"That's it, I'm done. I'm not going to stand here and let you humiliate-slash-grope me for your own amusement," she snaps, turning on her heel, but Cassandra grabs her wrist again, pulling her back and pressing her close.
"Don't be so sensitive, Schwimmer," she says, rolling her eyes. "I'm sorry if I offended you and what I'm sure was the best two minutes of tender vanilla lovemaking you've ever experienced, but if you want to get it, and I mean really get it? You've got to understand passion."
"I understand passion," Rachel says, not entirely sure why she's still letting Cassandra move them in time to the music.
"So prove it," Cassandra says, tightening her hands at the small of Rachel's back and pushing her closer. Rachel gasps when Cassandra pushes her leg forward, sliding it between hers and making her skirt ride up. "Seduce me."
"This is entirely inappropriate," Rachel says, her voice cracking a little. "You're my teacher."
"This isn't high school, Rachel," Cassandra purrs into her ear. "And right now? I'm not your teacher. So either prove me wrong or stop wasting my time and run back to your friend. He's up there on the balcony waiting for you, I think he's enjoying the show."
"He's gay," Rachel says weakly, her hips starting to sway to the beat without her permission.
"So? He still has eyes," Cassandra says, and Rachel doesn't think she's imagining the way her smirk grows when Rachel presses closer and starts to move in earnest. "Attagirl," she says.
Rachel closes her eyes because it's easier that way. She can just listen to the music and focus on the beat, the way the bass pounds up from the floor and into her body as she moves her hips.
"Better," Cassandra says into her hear. "But don't just focus on your hips, it's about your whole body. You have hands, you should be using them. Touch me or touch yourself, but do something."
Rachel nods, her eyes still closed, and lifts her arms, wrapping one around Cassandra's back and pushing her closer. She tries to ignore the way the ache that's been slowly building between her legs flares when their chests press together, but Cassandra's shirt is thin and she's not wearing a bra. Her nipples drag over Rachel's breasts as they sway together.
"Feel the beat. Stop thinking about what you're doing and let it move your body for you," Cassandra whispers, her breath against Rachel's ear making her shiver, and Rachel squeezes her eyes shut tighter and lets go.
It feels good, feels like she's getting lighter and lighter as she goes, forgetting the crowd, forgetting that Cassandra hates her, forgetting herself for a little while and just letting herself move to the beat. Her whole body feels like it's buzzing, from her feet on the pounding floor to the palms of her hands as she slides them across the soft material of Cassandra's top.
Rachel throws her head back, shaking her hair off of her shoulders to hang behind her, letting Cassandra's hands tight on her hips keep her balanced as she sways, and she doesn't realize how close they've gotten until she shifts her legs and gasps when Cassandra's thigh is suddenly pressing in hard against her where she's aching and wet. Rachel's eyes fly open as she tries to pull her hips back, but Cassandra holds her in place, the flashing lights of the club catching her eyes as she grins.
"Huh," she says, pressing her thigh up, and Rachel bites back a groan as her eyes flutter shut automatically. "You just proved me wrong, and very few people can prove me wrong. Don't get cocky, though," she says, as she steps back just far enough to pull her thigh away but still close enough to be heard. "Your form still sucks and I had to practically dry hump you to get you to unclench long enough to actually move your body like it belonged to you."
"Does this mean I'm off dance belt duty?" Rachel asks, wincing when her voice comes out low and scratchy.
"Not a chance in hell," Cassandra says, smiling broadly. "Oh, and Rachel?" she says, leaning back in close and whispering in her ear. "Outside of class? You can call me Cassie."