Rachel Berry leaned in slowly, hesitating in a way that she generally didn't. She wasn't looking at his face. Instead, she found her eyes lingering on his throat: the definition of his nearly-quivering Adam's apple and the hollow at the base of it. "You sure?" she whispered against the side of his face, which he kept smooth by shaving at sunrise and sunset, and sometimes during his lunch breaks.

He only swallowed. People were already starting to stare. Rachel pressed her lips against his, pressing the flat expanse of her palm against his heart, which was thump-thump-thumping hard, and poked at her hand through his ribcage. He didn't respond at first, and then he started to, moving against her mouth softly, curiously, but not quite sure.

Then -- Kurt shoved shoved Rachel Berry off of him by her shoulders. He heard the click of a camera, and voices, but he couldn't hear the specifics, only the buzz of excitement over the sound of his heart in his ears. "I'm sorry Rachel. It would never work between us."

"Is it," she sniffed, tears welling in her eyes, "someone else?"

"It's men."

"That does sort of make sense."

He caught her hand, swinging it between them like a child. "Let's still be BFFs, okay?"

(Rachel's hand is chapped, like she hasn't been using the moisturizer he bought her, and Kurt is displeased. Except, she's Rachel, and that's come to mean something more than diva.)

"Sounds good to me," she agreed easily. "You hungry?"

---

Except, that isn't where their story begins.

The seed of it: once upon a time, they're all just gleeks, and even Puck gets the occasional slushy facial. Once upon a time, they're the handicapped kid and the weird-gothic-stuttering-shybie-could-she-have-anymore-stereotypes-Asian, and the pregnant girl and the diva and the homo and and and. The point is, once, there were twelve of them.

And then they went to Regionals.

Which isn't to say that they won.

They put on an amazing performance, of course, a re-arranged Tangled Up In Blue and a the Black Eyed Peas' I Got A Feelin' because they've always loved vocalizing instrumental solos, and Forever In Blue Jeans, and a song from The Lion King on Broadway, which Puck calls "too gay for even his rep to survive," but who sang almost half of the song practically by himself, with only futile half-hearted complaints.

But this time, it's regionals. Which means real judges, with real knowledge about actual show choir.

"We were very impressed with your vocal range and talent, Miss Berry," the oldest judge told her, coincidentally catching her in the ladies' bathroom during the break between their set and Carmel's. Rachel practically glowed.

"But," she told her, after the winners had been announced. Rachel didn't want to hear anything from her: she had other places to be at the moment, other things to do. She had a heart to dislodge from her throat. The judge didn't seem to care. "Your solos, and the other boy's -- the tall one -- and Noah Puckerman's ... what they do is get your show choir out of the more complicated harmonies."

Rachel nods stiffly, trying not to cry. It was so easy for her to burst into tears when she wants to. It's holding them back that's hard.

"I just thought you might like to know. You're all very talented; you might have placed."

"I--" Rachel squeaked. "Thank you."

"There's always next year. You know, maybe."

"Maybe?"

"I just have a feeling you won't keep your amateur status for long," the older woman said, smiling, eyes crinkling at the corners.

Rachel felt (fractionally) less like she'd swallowed a brick.

When she goes back to the green room, Artie seems to have run out of energy to ram himself into the wall, and Tina was draped over his lap, head pillowed against his chest, Puck is glaring at a random patch of wall like it's just insulted his guns, simultaneously pretending not to care, and Finn had his arm wrapped (mostly) around Quinn, who's circumference had, by then, surpassed his (formidable) wingspan.

Only Kurt looked up when she entered. "Did you go threaten to sic the ACLU on the judges unless they recant?" he asks her. She immediately opened her mouth to snap at him, but it occurred to her that there was no bite in his voice. He was just miserable, and sarcasm was like, the entirety of his personality.

"No, sorry. Didn't think of that in time," she returned, tiredly.

"Bummer. Might have worked." Kurt slumped back over, but kept looking at her as he patted the space next to him for her. Rachel Berry wasn't accustomed to sitting on the ground, but she made an exception in the pursuit of friendship. (Or frenemy hood. That seemed more likely, back then.)

---

The bus ride back to Lima is agonizingly long. On the way up, Rachel and Mercedes had an impromptu diva off, after Rachel informed Puck that she was quite capable of runs, but simply chose not to employ them. Puck tried to pretend not to be involved in the sillier warm ups, and Mr. Shue lead them in a rousing rendition of Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For.

The ride back to Lima is filled with a heavy silence, for the most part, and of course, they stop every ten minutes (it feels like) to let Quinn out to "brush her teeth" (her personal euphemism) in gas stations and Burger Kings and the occasional truck stop.

After the eighth stop, Mr. Shue even stops insisting on the buddy system.

"Are you crazy?" Finn and Puck say to him at the same time, and for a second, Rachel almost laughs, because they've sort of made up in an awkward kind of way, and Finn loves Quinn and Puck loves his baby, and together, they kind of make a family. And because of the look the boys give each other before Puck chin-nods at Finn, like a way-to-go from the past, before all the babygate drama.

When Quinn gets back, with Finn right behind her, Rachel starts to sing Stand by Me and one by one they join in. They sing the song way too long; and then Finn preforms a two minute air-drum solo, and then they all shlump against each other.

At some point, Finn says, "Don't worry guys; there's always next year."

And Rachel isn't being a pessimist when she says, "Maybe."

Just a little idea I've been thinking about as a break from Popular. Thanks for everyone who reviews that; this one's for you. :) (Especially Goldfish and Chamberlain.)

...Obviously I am obsessed with Kurt/Rachel brohood. This is probably going to be three parts long.