Rachel had taken to sitting in the back of drama class and saving Kurt a seat. And this morning after a somewhat disappointing phone call, it was being saved with a bagel and coffee. She didn't get the part in The Glass Menagerie like she had hoped, but it was okay. She was still a freshman in her first semester, she had time. The teacher was still writing notes for the day on the board when Kurt snuck in the back of class.

"Bagel with cream cheese and lox? Have I ever said how much I adore you?" moaned Kurt softly as he took a long drink of the coffee. He quickly flipped open his notebook and went looking for a pen. He laid some sheet music down on the table as he rummaged around in his bag. Rachel casually looked through them as Kurt uncapped his writing utensil and starting jotting down what was on the board.

"Christmas music?" asked Rachel. "Isn't it a little early?"

Kurt shook his head. "Not when it comes to the Winter Showcase."

Rachel's mouth dropped open. "You're playing in the Winter Showcase?" She clamped a hand over her mouth to keep from squealing. "Kurt, that's amazing. No freshman gets in the Winter Showcase, like ever."

He shook his head. Rachel gave him a questioning look.

"I'm accompaniment," he sighed wistfully. "Along with a couple other instruments." He paused. "Apparently their best piano player graduated, so the piano teacher has been singing my praises to Ms. Tibideaux."

"Still!"

Kurt waved it off. "I don't get to play for myself. I've got a set list."

"At least I'll have something I can watch," said Rachel in his ear. "When I'm sitting in the audience."

Kurt smirked. "Just don't distract me too much."

Rachel chuckled softly as they listened to the teacher starting the lecture. Kurt nibbled on a bit of the smoked salmon and pickled caper out of the corner of her eye, much to her amusement.


"So I'm guessing by the lovely and delicious breakfast this morning that you didn't get the part," said Kurt lightly. They both had made it through the long day and had ended up in the library for research and study time. Rachel frowned as they continued the walk back to their dorm.

"No," admitted Rachel. "As much as I wanted to rub it in Cassandra's face, unfortunately they said they were going in a different direction." She smiled sadly. "But the director said that he would keep me in mind for future projects and he couldn't wait to see me grow and develop."

"Well, that's nice at least," added Kurt.

"You should have gone with me," said Rachel. "You might could have gotten a part."

Kurt laughed. "Unlike you my little starlet, I don't think I'm ready for auditions just yet."

"You're good Kurt," said Rachel, wrinkling her nose. "Your Julius in class last week was so much better than anyone else's."

"I do make a good Caesar," he said, contemplating. "Just as long as no one stabs me on the Ides of March. Or try to pour me on top of a salad."

Rachel laughed and looked to the skies. Although she loved being in New York, she missed being able to see the bright stars from her backyard. Her and her Dad loved to look though the telescope to see the stars in the constellations, or to find a shooting star.

"It's just a step," she said with a sigh. She took and kissed his hand. "Like all the times I had to fight the girls for solos."

Kurt raised an eyebrow. "You fought for solos?"

"At first," said Rachel with a sigh. "But they had good voices too. And I liked to hear them sing. Mercedes is recording backup tracks for major artists now."

"Impressive," said Kurt. "She got extremely lucky."

"Very," said Rachel. "Her boyfriend Sam put her videos up on Youtube and a producer saw her and hired her."

"The powers of the internet," nodded Kurt. He slid the key card for their dorm and walked in. Rachel shivered a little from the cold. Kurt rubbed her shoulders as they waited on the elevator.

"I told you that you needed a jacket."

"It wasn't that cold earlier."

"Glad I was wearing that sweatshirt."

Rachel chuckled and snuggled down into the neck of the navy hooded sweatshirt with a large Dalton logo. It smelled so much like him. When she had put it on outside of the library, it was so warm that she felt like she was wrapped in a Kurt bear hug. She pulled Kurt into the lift and pressed the button for his floor. She got on her tiptoes and kissed him softly. He leaned her gently against the wall of the elevator and she pulled herself up on the bar that ran across at waist height and deepened it. He moaned, surprised as her hands clung around his neck. They didn't even break apart when the elevator dinged and opened its doors. It was only when it tried to close that Kurt's hand shot out and pushed it back open. They both caught their breath and laughed softly, grasping each other's hands as they walked out and towards his room. He looked over to Rachel with a smirk.

"I'd say goodnight, but I get the feeling that you're not ready for that."

Rachel nodded. "Can I come in? I've been curious about your room."

Kurt raised an eyebrow and unlocked the door, and Rachel was greeted by the sights she had seen before. She pretended to take it all in and going and sitting on his bed and snuggling a pillow.

"They are as comfortable as they look."

"Just because they're made with duck down," he laughed as he went to the closet and crossed into the bathroom. Rachel cuddled up around the pillow, and sat back on the bed. Kurt came back out in navy sweatpants and faded grey "Hummel Tires" t-shirt. She raised an eyebrow.

"You actually own sweatpants?"

He pointed to the side of the left leg where a large "DALTON" was written down the side in maroon letters.

Rachel laughed. "So your gym clothes then?"

"Please, as if Dalton would have something so common," scoffed Kurt. "We had inter-mural sports. The upperclassmen were required to teach the newbies all the different games. Lacrosse, rugby, polo, baseball, tennis, golf, basketball... whatever it was time for. Then once a month on a Saturday, the different grades would play each other till there is a winner."

"That sounds... kind of fun actually."

Kurt shrugged. "I suppose."

Rachel smirked. "Not much of a sports person, were you?"

Kurt scratched his head sheepishly. "I hid in the library most of the time." He sat down on the bed. "As long as you at least participate in one sport, they didn't usually say anything."

"So what did you play?"

The brown haired boy sighed. "Don't laugh."

"Not a giggle shall escape from my lips."

"Tennis. I was Blaine's doubles partner. But that's all! I detested the game just as much as any that forces people to wear stirrup pants."

"Little white shorts," Rachel managed to say with a straight face. Kurt glared.

"No laughing."

Rachel covered her mouth with her hand. She couldn't help it.

"I'm sorry, but with your skin tone-"

"You finish that joke, and you won't be sitting on this bed for much longer."

"I'm sorry," Rachel pouted. She kissed Kurt's cheek.

"I'm sure you played quite well."

"Well enough," shrugged Kurt. "I just had to make it through a few inter-mural games. Blaine was on the tennis team and so much better than me."

"So are you looking forward to going home?" asked Rachel, changing the subject.

"Yeah, I miss my dad," sighed Kurt. "I even miss the shop and the boys. I kind of even miss the Warblers."

Rachel nudged up closer to Kurt. "But you'll get to see them soon. And you'll get to meet my McKinley family personally."

Kurt smiled at that. "Finally get to see them in person."

"I have a feeling you're going to be tackled," laughed Rachel. "Tina's been dying for ages."

"Just as long as I have forewarning," smirked Kurt, stretching out his legs. "I had little cousins who liked to jump on my back and we'd both go rolling."

Rachel laughed at the mental image and wrapped her arms around Kurt's waist. She laid her head on his shoulder and he sighed and kissed the top of her head.

"Want to watch a movie?"

"What does your house look like?" asked Rachel. "I know with two males, it must be some sort of spectacular man cave."

Kurt wrinkled his nose. "Rachel, please. This is me we're talking about. Do you think I'd let Dad hang beer signs and NASCAR memorabilia everywhere?"

The Jewish girl giggled at that. "No, I suppose not." Kurt rubbed her arm absently in thought.

"Well, we live next to the garage for one," gestured Kurt. "My parents bedroom and bathroom and the spare bedroom are on the second floor. The kitchen, living room, and first floor bathroom are well, the first floor. My bedroom and bathroom are below that, in the basement."

"Where is your piano?"

Kurt smiled proudly. "In the living room. Dad always liked to hear me practice, even when I was little and would miss a note or two."

"I have a stage in my basement," admitted Rachel. "After Daddy had the basement renovated and took out the fireplace, I used to put on shows for them. And practice my award speeches."

Kurt snorted. "I think I would have paid to see that." Rachel nudged his abdomen with her hand.

"One more word Hummel and I'll leave bruises."

He laughed and leaned in for a kiss. She ran her hands down his sides down past his waistband and he jumped, surprised. Rachel laughed out loud and rubbed upwards, tickling his sides.

"Rachel! Rachel! Stop!" he laughed, finally freeing himself from Rachel's hands. "I should have never even confirmed I was ticklish."

"You jumped that day. It's hard to deny after seeing the evidence."

"Alright Attorney Berry," chided Kurt. "Tell me about your place. Beside the stage in your basement."

"You're adorable when you're trying to distract me."

"Of course, your roaming hands are pushing it." Rachel snorted when she remembered the song the New Directions had done at their first assembly. Kurt gave a sideways glance, questioning. She shook her head with a smile.

"Just remembering something. It is a very special memory."

"Do tell."

"Our first assembly, like literally our first group performance was Push it by Salt-N-Pepa."

"Really."

Rachel laughed, kicking her feet. "It worked, for what it's worth. It seems silly now. We really didn't want to do what Mr. Schue wanted us to do, so we went against his wishes."

"With the worst possible choice ever for a high school."

Rachel covered her mouth, trying to stop the giggles. "Yes." She sat back against Kurt's shoulder. "At least we didn't start a sex riot like Toxic."

"Okay, you've really got to explain that one."

"Ugh, okay. We have this cheerleader in the club named Brittany S. Pierce. So literally Britney is the bane of her existence because of her name... somewhat. I never really understood that. Anyways, so Mr. Schue wouldn't let us cover Britney since she is such a bad influence. But somehow in a weird, bizarre way, we ended up doing Toxic for an assembly. And we caused a stampede of the whole entire high school."

Kurt tried, but he couldn't hold in his laughter.

"Okay, that's hilarious."

"Not when you're standing in front of the principal."

Kurt pouted his lip. "Poor baby."

"So no boy school riots?"

"None that I can remember," said Kurt. "If there were any riots, they probably would have been limited to either the lunchroom or the sports fields. Boys can be ruthless when they're hungry."

"We had a school protest over tater tots."

"Well, they are rounds of golden fried potato deliciousness."

"Alright, now I know you'll get along with Mercedes too well."

"You keep saying that."

"Because it's true," chuckled Rachel as she wrapped her arms back around Kurt's waist.

"And I'm sorry."

"No apologizes necessary," sighed Kurt. "I'm the one with the slight hang up, not you." He sighed and pulled Rachel closer and played with her fingers. "Your hands are tiny and cute and it's just different."

Rachel patted his cheek. "Like how yours are so soft. It's like holding hands with another girl. Not that I mind of course."

"Having Sapphic feelings on me Berry?"

"Well..."

Kurt laughed. "Alright I get the hint."

The brunette chuckled. "I think I am perfectly heterosexual, so my eyes aren't that wandering." She paused. "We had a lesbian in the club by the name of Santana, and sometimes you couldn't help but wonder."

"I can't help you I'm afraid. You're my only experience in the romantic girl territory."

"How I wonder. You're gorgeous Kurt."

"Boys school uniform, Burberry lunchbox, a leather book satchel that cost around 400 dollars, and driving a fancy SUV. If I didn't scream high class gay, I don't know what I could have done differently."

"I'm sure the boyfriend on your arm didn't help either."

"That might have had something to do with it, yes."

"You know, between the two of us, we really don't have that much dating experience."

"That a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Good thing, possibly," said Rachel. "No bad habits to unlearn?"

Kurt laughed. "That would be a good thing, yes." He rubbed Rachel's knee. "So the lesson for today is that we both have quirks we have to work around?"

"Something like that," mused Rachel. "I love your hands."

"And yours are adorable and dainty and would fit perfectly into a pair of handcuffs should I have you charged for breaking and entering."

Rachel squealed, burying her head into Kurt's sweatshirt. She was blushing hard. She had been caught after all. Why had she even thought about doing that in the first place?

"Rachel!" laughed Kurt. "Come back out honey, you're okay."

"You're not mad?" said the brunette, muffled. Kurt could only see a pair of brown eyes and a nose peeking out from navy cloth.

"I was confused at first, but then I laughed at your mischievousness. Especially when you didn't come back out with anything in your hands."

Rachel sniffed. "I was just curious, and you're always... so mysterious."

Kurt rolled his eyes as the Jewish girl pulled her hair back out of the sweatshirt.

"So now I'm curious. What were you looking for?"

"Your sheet music." She sighed and wrinkled her nose. "I wanted to know what you wanted to sing and play."

"So that's how you knew Time After Time."

"Well, no. I already know it by heart. It's a beautiful song, which is why I suggested it."

Kurt shook his head with a soft smile. "You surprised me that day, you know that?"

"Why?"

"That song... was one of the reasons I learned to love music in the first place." He paused. "It was my mother's favorite song."

Rachel felt her heart drop. Oh.

"I-"

Kurt squeezed her hand. "Don't apologize Rachel. It's a good memory. My mom would sing it, and my dad would join in when he was home. I tried to sing and bang along with my toys when I was little. My mom thought I was musical, so they started me on piano lessons. And it was my piano teacher who suggested I take singing lessons. So you can say my career kind of started with that song. It took a long time after my mom died till my dad wanted to hear it again. I thought he was going to break down the day when he realized that when he wasn't looking that I had learned to play and sing it perfectly. It wasn't Sondheim, but it made my dad happy."

Rachel sniffed, wiping away the tears. She hugged Kurt tighter.

"No wonder your copy looked so well-worn."

"It has seen a few years yes."

"I'm sorry I stepped on your memory like that."

"You didn't Rachel. You added to it." He rolled his eyes. "You girls."

Rachel picked up one of his throw pillows. "You're not much better Hummel."

"Oh no, there will be no pillow fights with those."

"Who said anything about a pillow fight?" said Rachel. She put the pillow on Kurt's lap and laid her head down on it. The brown haired boy snorted and pulled out his phone and took a picture. Rachel stuck her tongue out at him.

"I needed a new wallpaper."

"You're funny."

"You're the one with your head in my lap."

Rachel groaned when her phone went off, letting her know she had a text message. She sighed.

"I told Tina not to trust the new kids with the costumes."

"That bad?" asked Kurt. He was running his hand through her hair. Rachel had to admit, it felt nice.

"She's had to fix nearly all of them."

"Ouch."

"No kidding. The only costumes she hasn't had to fix is Danny's and Kenickie's."

"They're like what... jeans and leather jackets?"

Rachel grinned. "Pretty much." She leaned closer to Kurt. "This is nice."

"Hmm, I suppose," chuckled the countertenor. "I do like your hair."

Rachel smiled in response and texted Tina back. She responded, saying Mercedes was working her to the bone on Sandy's vocals. She sent back a smiley face and couldn't wait to needle Tina about it all in person. Although the thought was pleasurable, the sensations in her chest wasn't coming from the thought of teasing her friend.

"Although the gesture is appreciated," said Rachel, her face growing warm. "Kurt, that isn't my hair, or my shoulder."

Kurt looked down from where he had been staring off in the distance and saw his hand was grazing Rachel's right breast. He squeaked softly and blushed hard.

"So-sorry."

"Looks like I'm not the only one with roaming hands tonight. Someone is trying to get to second base before we even have a full make out session."

Kurt fanned his face to keep from getting splotchy. "Not intentionally."

"It's cute, you copping a feel."

"Rachel."

She leaned up and kissed his cheek.

"You did nothing wrong Kurt."

"I know," he said, almost wistfully. "I do want to try to be a gentleman."

"Two months and not once have you ever pressured me for more than a kiss," said the brunette, smiling up at Kurt. "I think it's safe to say you've pretty much maintained the title of perfect boyfriend."

Kurt scrunched up his face, giving a half smile. "I don't think I'll ever get used to hearing that."

Rachel giggled and sat up. "So, Mr. Hummel, what was your first breast groping experience like?"

"... I hate you."

"You still haven't answered the question."

"Soft and warm. Like a jello pudding pillow."

"Maybe tomorrow you can go for a matching set."

Rachel squealed when she was hit with a throw pillow.


AN: That was fun. :) Next chapter coming soon! Writing Warblers is amusing. *type type type*