A/N: Because I find their quirky little friendship utterly adorable. Especially now that I finally got around to watching the entirety of "Duets." (I've seen episode one of season two, and I've seen episodes six through ten, but I've missed basically all the others of season two, which is, like, four episodes. Down to three left unseen now. XD )
Anyway. Enjoy this adorable Rachel/Kurt friendship fluff. Which is not faked in the show, on account of Lea Michele's fangirlism of Chris Colfer. No joke. Just search on YT, "2011 Globes Nominee Lea Michele" for an adorable interview. Also Chris Colfer's for the same thing; in it, Lea GLOMPS him. It's so fucking adorable I DON'T EVEN. X3
'Teardrop' by Massive Attack plays soothingly in the background, the main reason for it being on Rachel Berry's iTunes being her slight obsession with the drama House, M.D. She hums along with the lyrics as she buffs the nails splayed out in her hands.
"All they need now is a nice clear topcoat for that shine and they'll be perfect!" Rachel says cheerfully as she sets down the buffing tool.
"Thanks so much, Rachel. I still can't figure out why you invited me over for a sleepover, since we have a rather… strange… relationship, but I'm grateful nonetheless," her guest replies with a lighthearted smile.
"Oh, Kurt. I know last year you made me look like a bit of a hooker so you could try and get to Finn, and I know sometimes I annoy the living daylights out of you because I tend to blow you out of the water with my talents, but… But," she amends softly, her chocolate eyes melting and connecting with his blue ones, "But we've had our share of bonding moments, haven't we? I mean… you go to Dalton now, and I never see you anymore. I miss you, and I know everybody else does, too." She pops a bright smile. "Remember when we sang that duet together? And remember Sectionals? We go together in that weird gay-guy-and-straight-girl way, the same way that you and Mercedes go together in that fashionista-and-diva way."
Kurt chuckles lightly, watching with mild interest as Rachel dabs the leftover topcoat on the inner side of the bottle before taking his hand again and swiping it across his thumbnail to start the completed process of his simple manicure. Nothing too flashy, because gay or at Dalton or not, Kurt's still a boy.
"That's true," he admits with a small nod, listening to her sing quietly along with 'Konstantine' by Something Corporate as it plays on her shuffled iPod next. He joins in, not knowing all of the lyrics like her, but he tries. And together they harmonize well, their voices compliments of one another; where one can go higher the other goes lower, where one can go louder the other goes softer. Flawless.
"Kurt?" Rachel says suddenly, setting down his drying hand and picking up the unpainted one. She glances up at him for a moment. "What's it like at Dalton? At Sectionals… you didn't look very happy being in the background. And in that uniform… you're not yourself. The uniform is stylish in that cutesy boarding school way and all, don't get me wrong, but… you look like you're being smothered. Stuffed into a box."
Kurt raises an eyebrow at her. "Rachel, if this is some sort of ploy to try and manipulate me to get me to come back to McKinley –"
"Oh no, no! – Yes, I often manipulate others, I won't deny that because even someone as self-centered as me can't ignore my flaws, but… that's not what I'm trying to do at all. I would love it if you came back, but with credits to transfer and Regionals coming up, I know it's not quite possible. Still… I wonder. Wonder what it's like there, how you feel when you're there, and if… if you miss us at all," she says, her voice lowering to a whisper on the last part.
Kurt's facial expression softens. He drops his drying hand – careful to keep his nails from being ruined – onto her hovering hand holding the nail polish brush. "Rachel… you have to understand, no matter how artistically suffocated I feel while I'm there – unable to express my exquisite fashion sense and belt out any song I like on my own without the approval of the entire Warblers group – I'm still so much safer. You… you don't know what it was like, with Karofsky and everyone else at McKinley. I know you and the Glee Club love me, but no one else there did. No one else accepted me. And right now I'd rather blend in than stand out in that manner."
He sighs, dropping his hand to her vanity top and shaking his head. Rachel sets the brush back in the bottle for a moment and leans forward, cupping his lightly cleft chin in her hand and offering a wavering smile as she tilts his head up to meet her eyes. "Hey," she says in one of her sweeter tones, "It's okay. I understand. You don't need to explain yourself to me or anybody else. I didn't mean to ask it that way. I just want you to be happy, Kurt."
Kurt shrugs, his eyes downcast on his nails, it not feeling safe to look her face without wanting to cry. "I don't think I've ever been truly happy, Rachel. When I was a kid I think I was, in that same child-like innocence way, until my mother died. And then everything became twisted and sad and nothing but a battle, even when I tried my best to make the most of any given situation." He finally looks up at her, and then the tears come, stinging his eyes as he blinks his lids rapidly, his lashes dampening. Her eyes search his face, and she looks heartbroken. "I… I'm happy when I sing, though. I feel like nothing can stop me because there's strength and courage in my voice, at the very least."
Rachel's eyes are tearing up, too, and suddenly she's standing from her chair, bent over, her arms around his narrow shoulders and her hair pressing against his ear, warm and soft. "Kurt," she chokes, "I'm so sorry. I had no idea. You always act so sure of yourself all the time, like me, but deep down, you and I are the most fragile, aren't we? We're so pathetic," she laments brokenly, and she feels him ignore his nails – because, really, they can always re-do the polish - and reach up to cling to the fabric of her cashmere sweater.
"Yeah, we kind of are," he answers with a bitter chuckle, and gives her thin frame a squeeze. Softly, as the brunette pulls away, Kurt tells her, "I'm so glad we're friends, Rachel. Don't expect to ever hear me say that again, because I probably won't outside of a moment this emotional, but I really love you like the sister I never had. You, Mercedes, and my family are all who help keep me together. Not even Blaine compares to all of you. Each of you understand me in ways he hasn't had the time or care to get to know yet, and no one else has gotten very close to me to bother."
Rachel makes a pouting expression. "Oh, Kurtie," she coos softly, touching his face for a second, "I don't see why. You're so precious sometimes."
He lightly smacks her hand away. "Shut up, woman, and finish my manicure. I hope your hug didn't mess it up."
She laughs with real humor this time and dries her eyes, offering him a tissue as well. When they're both relatively presentable again, she resumes her task, Evanescence coming on in the background.
"Amy Lee? She strikes me as more of Tina's taste in music, considering Tina sometimes dresses like her," Kurt remarks.
"Yeah, well," Rachel smiles casually, her hands working on Kurt's nails again, "She has a beautiful voice even I can't always compare to, and Tina and I have been swapping music lately. Some of it is pretty good when it's not overly depressing."
Kurt laughs minutely, then sighs. "This is nice. We have to do it again when I'm home for a different weekend or break. Your dads are great – a model gay couple, if I do say so myself – and while your room is a bit childish for my taste, your house is generally adorable, and… I really do miss hearing McKinley gossip and hanging out with you and everyone."
"I was hoping you'd say that," Rachel smiles. She finishes up his pinky finger, twists closed the clear-coat bottle, and suddenly reaches into a drawer of her vanity for a small white box. "And that's why I got this for you when I was at the mall one day. I thought you could wear it and remember us." She grins as she hands the box over to him, the front of it marked in fuchsia Sharpie marker, reading, 'Kurt Elizabeth Hummel' on it. "I know that's not your real middle name, but I saw you scribble it when we were voting for the duets and thought it was so cute and sounded so fitting," Rachel blabs as Kurt opens the box.
Inside it, there's a gold star necklace with a heart-cut jewel in the center, Alexandrite, which shifts between green to purple to a reddish color depending on the light and angle it's seen in. A rainbow of sorts.
"The gold star is all me, admittedly, but when I saw the color-changing heart in the center… I thought of you. The heart is fickle sometimes, shifting between emotions and states of being and wanting and needing, and I thought that might be how you felt right now, torn between your friends at McKinley and your new life at Dalton."
Kurt cracks a smile. "So the fact that this is a rainbow-like gem has nothing to do with the fact that gays are represented with a rainbow as the gay flag," he quips, and the brunette laughs.
"No, it has nothing to do with that. I'm trying to be deep here, Kurt."
He smiles warmer. "Yes, I realize that. And while part of me still thinks you might be trying to guilt me back to McKinley –"
"No, I swear I –"
"I know you're actually doing this out of the goodness of your heart, and I think it's sweet. I'll definitely wear this; the best part is, it should match most of my outfits, and the ones that it doesn't… well, I can always wear it under my shirt, close to my heart." He leans over and hugs her again, one-armed, so not to muss his still drying hand. "Thanks again, Rachel. I never thought I'd say this, but… you're the best."
"I know I am," she returns none-too-modestly, but there's a hint of joshing in her tone, as if it's all false bravado. She gestures over to her clock. "It's still pretty early, you know. Want to watch a movie? Chicago, perhaps? Or Hairspray? – The new one, of course, because no one can resist the charms of Zac Effron."
"I'm totally there with ya, sista," Kurt agrees with a laugh. "Hairspray it is."