AN Oh man guys . . . I really think you're going to like this one.

Pennsylvania Station was unbelievably crowded, and Kurt was slightly ruffled by the sheer amount of bustling people. It was the first time he'd been here – he had flown into Manhattan and hadn't had a reason to step foot in this crazy place before today. It was like its own underground city – there weren't this many shops in the mall back home, and it was a little unsettling. He'd been told there were a few sit down places to grab something to eat or drink, and realized that "few" was an exaggeration. Besides the Amtrak waiting area – which only allowed it's passengers to sit in their enclosed area, seating was limited to about ten booths in a cramped section. The coffee shop where he'd asked Will to meet him was thankfully on the far right of the overpriced-fast-food-block-in-a-box, and had it's own little barstool-table-booth setup . . . luckily for him, the last seat closest to the entryway was unoccupied.

Ordering himself a small iced tea and regarding it with disgust after witnessing the liquid sugar product they had dumped in his cup, Kurt sat down and plopped his notebook on the table. The notebook was a ruse, he didn't really have an assignment for observing trends at the station, though he mentally slapped himself on the back for his own genius quick thinking – if the assignment had been existent, he'd definitely be able to take notes here. . . there was quite the mix of the faux-pas to the fabulous milling around. Scribbling a few lines on the paper so as not to have to explain himself for anything, he jumped when the sound of someone clearing their throat made him push too hard on his mechanical pencil, the lead breaking under pressure. He looked up, and nothing. It was just the guy next to him who must have had his bagel go down uncomfortably.

Kurt shook his head. . . he was nervous and his hands were shaking. He glanced at his watch, and saw that it was only quarter of two. He sighed. What had possessed him to call the damn thing a date? He thought he had been sly in the moment, having Mercedes hang up on Will like that, but now that it came down to it, not knowing how Schuester had reacted to his statement was driving him practically to nervous breakdown. It must have been Will's proclamation that he'd missed him, that he was worried about him, that got his courage up to a level it didn't belong. Kurt knew Will well enough to know that the older man had a bit of a bleeding heart, that he was too nice sometimes to realize the impact of what he said or implied.

"Kurt?" The young man nearly jumped out of his seat and almost knocked his sorry excuse for tea to the floor. Had he had less practiced control over his facial features, his jaw surely would have dropped. He actually came. The thought came, followed immediately by the surprised: He looks good.

"Holy shit, Will. What patron saint of fashion died and slapped you with the Armani stick?" Schuester chuckled and sat down, still smiling.

"It comes with the job, I guess." he sighed, and watched as Kurt busied himself with closing his notebook and pushing it aside. "How have you been?" The younger man shrugged.

"Okay, I suppose. I'm ahead in most of my classes, except for one that I'm kind of kicking myself about not taking care of in high school. Didn't think a fashion institute would care so much about it, but I guess general elective requirements are pretty much the same everywhere. . ." Will was watching him and waiting for him to continue, Kurt noticed, and couldn't help the smirk that crept up on his features. This was an amusing topic to start up with, one he hadn't expected, but ironic all the same.

"Spanish." he said to Will's unspoken question, and the older man outright laughed.

"Really." Kurt nodded and then shrugged.

"How about you? How's Broadway treating you?" The frown that overtook Will's face at the question caught Kurt off guard. What the hell?

"It's not what I expected. . . by a long shot. Don't get me wrong, it's great to be able to continue working with all these talented people, but the way they preform . . . it's like somewhere along the line someone took the joy of it right out of them. They all seem to have this, "Sign my paycheck and get me out of here" attitude, and it's starting to become more depressing than fun. . ."

"That. . ." Kurt began, shaking his head. "That's horrible. What the hell's the point of even doing a job like that if you don't enjoy it? Aggravating, really . . . I mean, I'd give my Prada collection to be up there doing what they're treating like a chore!"

"Then why haven't you?" Kurt's eyes widened, and Will's narrowed slightly. "Really, Kurt. . . I've been thinking about this for a while, ever since auditions closed for our last show. You haven't even stepped foot on a stage since graduation, have you?" Kurt looked up at the ceiling, anything to get his eyes out of lock with Will's glare.

"I have my reasons."

"Really. And what would those be?" Bringing his gaze back to Will, Kurt sighed.

"You, actually." He began, and watched as Schuester's face turned from aggravation to confusion. "Don't take that the wrong way Will, it's just. . . how am I supposed to go and audition on Broadway and know that I got a part without wondering if a good word from you is what got me there?" Will blinked.

"Shit." He said simply, then rubbed his chin in thought. "I get it. Damn."

Silence reigned for a few minutes, and Kurt was starting to get uncomfortable watching Will sitting there with his brow furrowed, deep in thought. Suddenly, the older man's features brightened, and Kurt jumped when Will slapped his hand on the table.

"I have an idea." he said with a smile. "You're not completely out of practice, are you? I mean, if I were to hand you some music right now, would you be able to sing in . . ." Will checked his watch. "a few hours?" Kurt looked at him a bit apprehensively.

"Maybe . . . probably. If I knew the song. . . sure. What are you getting at?" Brown eyes practically sparkling with excitement, Will held his hand up in the classic, 'one minute' gesture and plopped his briefcase on the table. Riffling through it's contents, he finally found what he was looking for and pushed the papers across the table. Kurt glanced at them, then did a double take and stared.

Defying Gravity.

"Will . . . I . . ." The young man flipped through the sheets of paper, not that he needed to, but because it was a distraction. "I . . ."

"Don't tell me you can't, because I know you can. . . you threw that F during Glee Club, and maybe you fooled everyone else, but you didn't fool me." Taking Kurt's silence as confirmation, Will continued. "Look, they're holding auditions for Elphaba at five. . . Usually it's more of the production department that does the casting, and they ask for my input only if they're not sure of more technical aspects, so . . ."

"They will though, Will. . . it's a female role." Will smiled and shook his head.

"It's Broadway, Kurt. . . do you know how many times Peter Pan has been cast as a woman? If you're good enough, and I really think you are, they'll put you in a wig, paint up your face, and send you onstage." Kurt smiled, feeling his eyes begin to water.

"I don't know if green's my color . . ." The younger man deadpanned. "I'm kidding. . . you really think I could pull off the Wicked Witch of the West?"

"I'm not the kind of person to set people up for disappointment, not on purpose anyway . . ." the older man smiled. "I really think you'd make a great witch." Kurt couldn't help it, and he laughed.

"I need to warm up . . . You want to get out of here?" Fumbling a bit with putting his notebook into his messenger bag, he gulped back a pinch of nervousness. "My . . . um, my apartment is a few blocks away . . ." Chancing a glance at Will, he noticed the man had gone stock still. "It'd only be for an hour," he added quickly. "Just enough time to go through some scales and freshen up. . . I mean I understand if. . ."

"That's fine. . ." Will sighed, running his hand through his hair. "Kurt, before we go, can we talk about something? I just don't want things to get. . . awkward." Kurt closed the cover of his bag, the magnetic snap sounding a bit too loud to his ears. Shit. Here comes the rejection. He nodded and looked up to meet Will's eyes.

He was surprised to see him smiling. . . one of those affectionate, but cautious smiles that promptly turned Kurt's insides to mush.

"I like you." Kurt's eyes widened, and Will held up his hand. "Wait, I'm not done. . . I have to admit, I'm a little nervous about even the idea of this. . ." Kurt gulped.

"Go on." Will sighed.

"Look. . . biologically, I'm old enough to be your father. It kind of freaks me out. Add on to that the fact that you used to be my student, and I think you can understand why I'm having a bit of a moral issue here. . ." Kurt frowned.

"Okay, Will, I get it. . . thanks for letting me down easy."

"That's not what I'm doing!" The wide eyed look of surprise on Kurt's face caused Will to take a deep breath. "Sorry, I didn't mean to shout. There's more I need to say. . . I'm not as brave as you are, Kurt . . . I kind of brushed off the whole questioning my sexuality stage in high school . . . I had Terri, and so it wasn't something I bothered with. . ."

"You should have; she was a bitch." Will laughed, and shook his head in amusement.

"In retrospect, yes, probably should have realized that a little sooner." He smiled. "I've been doing a lot of soul searching lately." he had the decency to blush before continuing. "It was last year, about a few months before graduation, when I noticed that during a conversation with Emma, that I was checking out her boyfriend."

"He does have a nice ass." Will stopped and looked at him in surprise. "Well, he does. . .nice teeth too." Schuester chuckled. "I'm sorry Will, usually when I'm talking about noticing these things it's with Mercedes. . . girl talk, you know?"

"Kind of makes me wonder what you've been saying about me." Kurt blushed crimson.

"I . . . I don't think you're ready for that yet. . ." Will chuckled nervously, running his hand through his hair, cheeks heating up.

"No . . . no, probably not. Um . . ." He laughed again. "Wow. . ." Kurt bit his lip to keep from laughing himself, and stood to put his hand on Will's shoulder.

"Come on, It's starting to get late and I still have to warm up my voice." Will nodded, his gaze going to the hand on his shoulder, staring at it for a second before shaking his head and getting to his feet.

"Don't forget your . . ." Schuester started and abruptly stopped as Kurt made a bit of a show of bending down to pick his bag up from off the floor. ". . . bag." Kurt laughed.

And then he winked.

"I have a nice ass, too."

Good God, What the hell had he gotten himself into? Gulping, nodding, and blushing one shade short of tomato red, Will placed his hand on Kurt's back and directed him to the exit of the crowded dining area. A couple of steps was all that little endeavor took, and he jammed his hands into his pockets. He should have known that Kurt was going to be the type of person to put on a show – to know how to tease someone in just the right ways, however subtle. It was like wakening a sleeping monster – in a good way, an exciting way that had him practically tripping over himself as the two of them made it out of the train station and onto the crowded streets of Manhattan.

He looked to his left, to Kurt, who had the most self satisfied little smirk on his face. They were both silent, and the silence was starting to get to him. He'd be damned if he knew what to say – he was still having a little trouble getting over the impromptu ass wiggle from five minutes ago. When Kurt stopped and reached into his pocket, Will followed his hand with his eyes. Keys. He was pulling out keys.

They'd reached his apartment, and Kurt was humming to himself as he motioned Will inside. It was a nice place, subtly colored, but definitely designed with a keen eye for placement and detail. Will really hadn't expected anything less. He stood in the doorway awkwardly, and Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Go sit down. The couch is pretty comfortable, and there's juice in the fridge. . . homemade iced tea too, much better than that swill they serve down at the station." Will nodded, and opted to skip the drink and just sit down. Kurt shrugged, told him he'd be back in ten minutes and went to what Will assumed was his room.

He was a little disturbed by how much he felt like he as acting like. . . a virgin? That was probably the best word for it. In a way though, he figured he was. . . he'd never even considered getting into anything with another male before. Checking people out was one thing, but the opportunity to maybe do something about it was something else entirely. For fuck's sake, Kurt's hand on his shoulder earlier had positively tingled. With the younger man following it up with his little shake . . .

What the hell, William. That's the third time you've thought about Kurt's rear end in less than a half hour. Get a grip.

"You done staring off into space, Schuester? We have to get going." Will's head shot up and he looked to the clock. Where had the last twenty minutes gone?

"Um, yeah. Sorry. You ready?" Kurt broke into a grin.

"I think I'll try defying gravity, and you won't bring me down!"

The smile that plastered itself onto Will's face practically hurt. Holy shit. Kurt had not only hit the F but pushed it two notes higher.

"Good?" Kurt asked, but he wasn't really asking. He knew what Will's answer was going to be. The older man shook his head and laughed.

"Shut up, you know it was. That was . . . that was awesome." Kurt beamed, and then faltered a bit.

"You really think I've got a shot? This. . . this is really big for me, you know?"

"Believe me, I know. Remember what I always told you guys before competitions? Just go out there and have fun. . .not only does it make you feel better, it makes you do everything you do one notch higher than someone who just doesn't care." Kurt nodded. "Hey, um . . ."

"What?" The younger man was practically jumping with anticipation, and Will couldn't help but get excited himself.

"I'm going to leave ahead of you. . ." Kurt frowned slightly, and Will just shook his head. "You want to get this part without my help, so it won't do to have us walking into the theater together." Understanding dawned on the younger man's features and he nodded. Will got up from the couch and approached the door, plucking Kurt's hand from the knob. He squeezed his hand, looked off to the side for a minute as if thinking, shook his head, and blushed.

"You alright, Will?" The older man laughed nervously.

"Yeah," he said quietly, then brought Kurt's hand to his lips and kissed his fingertips. "Break a leg."

Red faced and, well, kind of giddy, he ran out the door.

It was down to three people, Kurt included, and Will was starting to get a little nervous. They were all stellar performers, they usually were at this stage of auditions, and he could tell that his co-workers were having a tough time. Son of a bitch, they'd better not. . .

"William. We could use a little help here." Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

He took a deep breath and made his way over to the producer and casting director.

"What's the problem?" Out of the corner his eye he saw Kurt glaring at him. Not good.

"We've narrowed it down to two, but we think we may need a tie-breaker vote." Glancing down at the sheet that was wisked into his view, and seeing the names, he smiled but shook his head.

"I can't do it." he said simply. "Conflict of interest."

"What the hell are you going on about, Schuester?" Will leveled a look at the producer and frowned.

"I'm talking about law-suit sized conflict of interest. I can't pick one of those two names because one of them was a former student of mine, and I'm quite biased. Seeing as I can't be fair about it, and I'm not in the mood to get sued, I'm going to decline to answer. Comprende?" He hadn't been shouting, but he definitely had made sure to be loud enough that the three people on stage could hear him. Turning around and walking back to his seat, he sighed. "Just do your jobs and pick the person you think is going to do the best in the role." The casting director growled slightly, obviously annoyed but, and probably because, he knew Will was right. He whispered in the producer's ear, and he nodded.

"Right. Fine. Well then. Kurt Hummel, come and get your script."

No. Way.

Will had been almost sure after seeing the names on the list that they were going to go for the female option, especially since ninety-nine percent of the time, that's what those two bozos did. . . he hadn't wanted to tell Kurt of this, didn't want him to lose his courage to try . . . and when he had been called up to the desk, he figured that was it. Turned out they were probably looking for a reason not to give Kurt the role, the pricks, and it backfired on them.

Will turned to the stage, and he smiled. He knew Kurt was probably over the moon with excitement, but he hadn't yet gone down to grab the script he had rightfully earned. Instead, he was allowing himself to be hugged by the girl Will knew to be the runner up – an instance where the girl's gesture of congratulations for the young man had turned to tears. He thought for a moment and then walked back over to the desk.

"Hey." He started, and the two looked up in curiosity. "What do you say we make that girl there understudy?" The producer laughed slightly cruelly.

"Why, was that your student, Schuester?" Will rolled his eyes and grit his teeth. God he hated this buffoon.

"No. Kurt was. I would never refer to someone as 'that girl' if I knew their name." He glanced at the paper on the desk again, tapped her name, and pointed to the stage. "Vanessa did well, and while I agree with you, not as well as Kurt did, she's definitely qualified to be understudy." Will noticed the crying had stopped, and a quick glance revealed Kurt grinning with admiration and Vanessa staring in absolute shock.

"Ugh. Fine, Mister Director. . ." he said with venom, and Will swore that if he had the power to fire that bastard, he would. "Vanessa, come up and get a script as well."

Will nearly had to plug his ears from the squeals that erupted.

"Pick up, pick up. . . Damn!"

Will looked to his companion. Kurt seemed to be so excited he was practically jumping out of his skin. They'd been walking back from the theater, it was a beautiful night, and since grabbing his script he'd been focused almost entirely with dialing and redialing his father.

"Hi . . . Dad . . . look, I need to tell you something and I had to call you first, but I'm not telling you over voice mail . . . I'm going to call Mercedes and then I'm going to leave the line open for you to call me back. I don't care what time you call, just do. I have fabulous news."

Will smiled, sighed, and shook his head.

"Kurt . . ." Will was a little surprised when Kurt ignored him, and started dialing again.

"Come on . . . MERCEDES!" Stepping back from the volume the young man projected, Will decided to reach over and hit the speaker button on Kurt's phone.

". . . be so damn loud?" She paused. "I heard echo, you did not just put me on speaker, did you?"

"I did, Mercedes, fair is fair."

"Oh. Hi Mr. Schue. Kurt, what the hell is up with you screaming in my ear? Honestly, a girl could go deaf!" Kurt's grin, which had been plastered on his face for the last half hour, finally softened.

"Mercedes . . . I made it." There was silence for a few seconds, followed by Mercedes' loud reply.

"Oh my God! Broadway? Are we talking Broadway, Kurt?" he laughed.

"Yeah."

"Oh my God! What are you doing? Details, details!"

"Wicked. Elphaba. I totally nailed Defying Gravity. . ."

"Oh wow. WOW! Rachel Berry eat your heart out. I knew you could hit that damn note. Hot damn. Are you two still doing your little date thing?" Will chuckled, and Kurt looked at him a little guiltily.

"Kurt kind of got a little excited about his accomplishment and forgot about me for about thirty minutes. . . but I think it's still on." Kurt shot Will an amused, falsely offended look, and Will shot it right back at him. Mercedes laughter came through.

"Kurt, baby, I love you, and I'm so happy for you, but you're on a date and you really should get off the phone. And Mr. Schue. . . If you hurt my man Kurt, I'm going to hurt you. Bad. Sulfur and Brimstone bad. Got it?" Will blinked in surprise, and then nodded.

"Got it?" Mercedes repeated, and Will only then realized she couldn't see him. He had become distracted by the fact that the two of them had just made it to Kurt's doorstep.

"Y-yeah. I got it. Um . . . I think Kurt has to go now though. . ." Will reached over to pull the phone out of Kurt's grasp, turned off the speaker, and lifted the device to his ear. "Bye, Mercedes." he said, and dropped the phone into Kurt's pocket, deftly and quickly moving his fingers into the loops of Kurt's jeans and guiding him closer. Will's heart sped up when Kurt gulped and licked his lips – he was obviously nervous, and Will would be lying to himself if he said he wasn't nervous as well.

"I think . . ."

He began leaning forward. . .

"we need"

Millimeters away,

"to make this official."

Their lips met, a kiss that was slow, gentle and unbelievably sweet, lasting only moments but filling him with such an incredible feeling of joy he was half ready to dance all the way home. . . but that would involve letting go, and he wasn't quite sure he wanted to do that at the moment. Kurt hadn't said anything, and Will wasn't sure what kind of sign that was, so he looked at him. The younger man's eyes were closed and he seemed to be trying to steady his breathing.

"You alright there, Kurt?"

"I'm" he chuckled. "I'm trying not to faint, actually." he smirked. "How lame is that?" Will laughed.

"Pretty lame. Pretty flattering too. I'd love to do this again soon. . . before we get too busy with Wicked. . . give me a call, alright?" Kurt nodded and Will kissed him on the forehead. "Talk to you later." he smiled softly. "Get some rest, today's been a little crazy."

"Crazy fabulous. I really can't see a day get much better than this." Will smirked. He could think of a few . . .things that he wasn't going to think about doing because he was going to be a gentleman, goddammit! At least for a while anyway. . .

"I, uh, I have to go." He blushed, and walked backwards down the walkway. "Call me, alright?"

Kurt nodded and watched Will take off down the street, still rather dazed.

Then he realized he no longer had Will's number, and swore . . . Mercedes might though. It was on her caller ID when he called yesterday. . . he just hoped she didn't go and erase it. Swearing again, Kurt was already redialing as he ran inside.