AN: Originally posted this on Gleeslash over at livejournal. It's been recieved rather well over there, so I'm posting it here. Please r/r! Will/Kurt!

It was over.

Kurt closed his now empty locker with a sigh, stared at it for a few moments, then slipped his combination lock into his pocket. No more would he have to deal with ducking jocks carrying slushies in the hall. There would be no more stares and sniggers from empty headed teens to endure regarding his choice of clothing, the way he walked, or simply the sound of his voice. Ha! Soon enough he would have the last laugh in that department, when those vapid twits had to actually pay to hear his fabulous voice. They'd have to wait in line to see him dance or sing. His sense of fashion, well, they'd probably be dying to imitate him in the coming years, spending hundreds just to look like him. Laugh now, people . . .

The young man smirked and turned to make his way down the hall when the still sprouting smile on his face was rather abruptly put to an end in a cold, wet, and very familiar way. Wiping the slush out of his eyes and patting it off of his shirt as quickly as he could, he growled to himself and shot a death glare at the two goons laughing and walking briskly down the hall, now empty slush cups dripping their last remnants on the floor.

"Today?" he yelled at them. "Really?"

"Couldn't pass up the last chance to paint the rainbow!" Kurt clenched his fists and was about to retort when he felt a hand on his shoulder, then nearly had to cover his ears when the man next to him shouted.

"Figgins' office, both of you, now!" Will Schuester sighed and turned to Kurt. "I've got a few T-shirts in the music room, figured on a slushie epidemic today. Mostly everyone is there already if you want to get over. I'll be there after I take care of those two." He released his shoulder with a quick one-two pat, smiled apologetically and took off briskly down the hall.

Kurt looked down at his now blue and purple D&G shirt and cursed under his breath. No way was he wearing a T-shirt. Thanking his brilliant mind for his foresight he reached into his bag and pulled out the extra shirt he'd brought along, just in case. Head held high, he strode to the men's room to get changed.

Walking into the music room with his now cold, soaked, but thankfully once again solid blue shirt over his arm, Kurt found himself standing stock still in the doorway. Decorated with streamers, balloons, glitter, and cheesy plastic G-clef decor, the room was a sudden, slap-in-the-face, reminder . . .

It was over.

There wasn't a dry eye in that room. Rachel was openly sobbing, clutching onto Finn and bawling her eyes out. There was no shortage of running mascara on Mercedes or Quinn. Brittney was biting her lip and looking down with red rimmed eyes while Artie tried to console her while fighting back sniffles. Sam was busying himself with staring at the ceiling tiles. Mike and Tina were biting their nails in a disturbing, nearly simultaneous fashion, and Santana was over-applying her face powder in a vain attempt to cover up her puffy red eyes. With a quick comment to her about making sure she moisturized, and the glare that followed, Kurt took his usual seat next to Mercedes. He sighed.

"Girl, you need to invest in some waterproof mascara." Mercedes smirked and slapped his arm playfully.

"I'm gonna miss you Kurt. You'd damn well better call or I'll . . ."

". . . tear down every high end store on 5th Avenue to find me, I know . . . just spare Prada, please?"

"Oh, hell no, Prada's first to go down. And after I snatch up as many handbags as I can carry, I'm hitting Louis Vuitton."

"Never! I'll knock you down with a Gucci heel before you can cross East 57th!"

"Not before I shove you through the doors of Tiffany's!" At this Kurt burst out laughing.

"You have to come up and visit during spring break so we can do some heavy shopping." She smiled, albeit a bit sadly.

"You know, you're going to meet someone up there to go shopping with, hunny. You don't have to wait for me."

"Oh, I won't wait to go shopping, you know me, but there's definitely a special outing planned for when you visit . . ." He frowned slightly, then tried to recover. "Damn, I'm going to miss you. I don't know anyone up there. . . but, at least I won't be the only gay guy in town, right?" Mercedes smiled.

"No way in hell. I'm sure they'll be banging down your door. Plus, you'll get over that little crush of yours." Rolling his eyes and smirking, Kurt nodded.

"I'm sure 600 miles and zero contact should do the trick, and with all the eye candy walking around, I'm pretty confident I'll get distracted."

"You going to tell him? I mean, it's not like you'll ever see him again if you don't . . ." Shaking his head, Kurt sighed.

"No way, I've held on to this secret for this long and it's just foolish to tell him right before I leave. You're still the only one who knows and it's going to stay that way."

"If you're sure . . ."

"I'm sure." He nodded firmly. "There are plenty of guys in NYC, and once I get my cute little ass onto Broadway I'm not going to have any problems with suitors."

Kurt was midway through plucking a stray hair off his shirt and smirking when a shout from the hall made the entire music room quiet.

"Well, maybe I don't find it fair that those guys can get away with throwing slush at my students! It's their last day! They're graduating tomorrow and their last memory at McKinley is going to be getting their clothes wrecked by some childish prank?"

"Will, calm down. Principal Figgins isn't giving anyone detention today. Like you said, it's their last day."

"Emma, seriously. Do you know what those two did? Not only did they do their typical slush routine, they said something to him about painting the rainbow. It's ridiculous!"

At this, everyone in the music room turned to look at Kurt who held up his still rather damp shirt by his thumb and forefinger, and shrugged, smirking. When they turned away, Mercedes elbowed him in the side.

"You're enjoying this!" she hissed, as quietly as possible, and Kurt put his finger over his smiling lips in a shushing motion.

"Look, Will, what's done is done. The best you can do for your students right now is send them off with a smile and some encouragement. They've all worked really hard and done so well . . ." Running his hand through his hair and sighing, Will nodded and turned to walk into the room where his students were waiting, and unbeknownst to him, listening.

Emma grabbed his forearm to stop him. "I'm going to miss you too, you know." Will smiled softly, sadly.

"I know."

She nodded, turned awkwardly, and left down the hall. Will sighed once more and stepped into the room only to be met with full on stares from his little club.

"Is Miss Pillsbury leaving the school?" Rachel, nosy as ever, asked quietly. Will guessed the whole room wanted to know the answer, maybe just to distract themselves from the fact that they were leaving too. He knew this feeling well. There was a lot to deal with when graduating from high school, it was exciting, yes – getting ready to get out there on your own, make yourself into something. For that same reason, however, it was frighting as well. Let's not forget sad, knowing you'd be leaving everyone and everything you've known behind . . .

"Miss Pillsbury isn't leaving the school. I am." A few surprised What's and more wide eyes greeted his revelation.

"But why?" That was Finn, and Mr. Schuester shrugged.

"I got a better job offer elsewhere. Hey, don't worry about me, you guys are graduating! I'm so proud of all of you. I can honestly say I feel privileged to have worked with such talented people." He smiled wide. "Notice I said people there. You're not kids anymore, you're on the road to making your own paths, and becoming adults."

"If you tell us we're the future, I'm going to vomit." Kurt said, rolling his eyes. "C'mon Mr. Schue, we're going to get this speech tomorrow at ceremony . . . can't we just be New Directions for five more minutes and sing?" Will chuckled and shook his head, a grin on his face and his eyes getting red. He truly looked like he was going to cry.

"God, I'm going to miss you kids." Kurt scoffed, hopped down off the bleachers, and elbowed Mr. Schue in the side.

"Young adults." He said, sticking his nose up, then grinned, looked up to Mercedes, and winked. Turning back to Will with a mischievous smile on his face, he proposed the song he wanted to sing.

"So . . . Toxic?" Mr. Schue cocked an eyebrow.

"Really? You guys want to finish off Glee Club with Britney Spears?" The group looked at each other, smiled, nodded, and Mercedes was the one to pipe up with the statement that Kurt wanted to make. She knew it too, and grinned.

"You're not getting out of this either Mr. Schue, you're going to have to dance with us." He smiled as he watched his kids, no, his 'young adults' as Kurt had so aptly put it, nod enthusiastically.

"You guys . . . alright. Auditorium, let's go!"

It was a rousing performance, though the quality of it was even better than the first time they'd done the number years ago, when Sue in all of her lack of composure decided to pull the fire alarm and ruin their moment. It was their last time together as a group, and they knew it, going that extra mile to make it more memorable, not for an audience – there was none – but for themselves.

Will sighed, looking around, wiping the sweat from his brow and trying to steady his breathing. He nodded in thanks when Finn tossed him a water bottle with the accuracy that befitted that of a quarterback.

"So," he said after taking a generous swig. "Where are you all off to?"

Rachel was, of course, the first to speak up proclaiming that she was off to LA – no surprise there. Finn was going with her; he'd gotten a full scholarship to play football for the Trojans. Sam was off to Notre Dame with similar circumstances. Mercedes was going to Boston and Artie to Yale. Quinn decided on Utah and going to Provo for nursing. Mike, Tina, Brittany, and Santana were to stay in Ohio.

"How about you, Kurt?"

"Fashion Institute of Technology." He sighed happily, and didn't notice Will's eyes widen almost comically in surprise. "FIT. Keeps me close to Broadway. Figured if they turn out to be idiots down there and don't recognize my obvious talent, I'll have fashion design to fall back on."

"R-really." The smile wiped itself off of Kurt's face.

"What, don't think that's a good plan Mr. Schue? I thought I was being rather smart abou . . ." Will laughed and shook his head.

"No, no, you've got it all wrong . . . I was just surprised. Looks like I'll be seeing you around."

Kurt didn't know if it was the way Mr. Schuester smiled then, or the dawning of the meaning of what the man was saying to him, but all of a sudden he had to grab the top of the amplifier he was standing next to. His legs felt like jelly.

"Wait . . . What?"

"Well," Will's smile got impossibly wider. "I wasn't going to say anymore about this, but that new job I was talking about earlier . . . I'm going to be doing some directing on Broadway . . ."

The last thing Kurt heard before fainting rather ungracefully onto the auditorium floor was Mercedes' hysterical laughter.