Chapter 6

Kurt Hummel struggled to loosen the duvet's hold and stared up at the ceiling. He needed out of this body. And not just because of the rather creepy habit Rachel's Dads had of tucking her in every night, no. He just needed out.

He sighed heavily, and chewed at his bottom lip. Okay, it had been alarming at first, and then a little bit exciting with all the pranks and Jesse St James' nervous breakdown, but it was time to go back to being Kurt Hummel. Oh, God, what if this, whatever it, was never resolved itself and he was stuck in this body forever?

It wasn't that Rachel's life was any tougher than his, or that she was any more miserable, it was that they were miserable in the same way; and if Kurt was going to be stuck feeling miserable for the rest of his life, he'd rather have a penis thank you very much. They both felt overlooked and underappreciated, and where Kurt constantly had to deal with cheap jokes at the expense of his sexuality and clothing choices, Rachel had to deal with the same, just at her personality. And her clothing choices (but honestly, hers begged to be torn apart).

He thought back to the message he had sent Jesse. What had he been thinking? That humiliating Rachel would do what? He was supposed to be her friend but he had been too wrapped up in his own problems to think about just how deeply that could have hurt her. Rachel may be bossy and demanding, but Kurt saw how those snide comments and barbs hurt her. He knew exactly how low her self-esteem was, despite what she would have you believe. Kurt got hassled for being gay, Rachel got hassled for being Rachel. He had thought it was completely different, but now he realized it was the same. A part of you, you can't change; a part of you that you shouldn't haveto change. God.

He finally felt like he understood what it was to be Rachel Berry.

Well, except for one thing.

No! He couldn't. Could he? No! He even closed his eyes his eyes when using the bathroom! He had fallen in the shower at least twice this week. And he had purchased one of those Comfort Wipe things off of QVC so he didn't have to touch anything weird. He could hardly start experimenting like that. Kurt didn't even like girls for goodness sake.

Then again. That was before he was one.

He gave a cursory glance around the room, blushing at the accusing eyes of the assorted teddy bears.
"What are you looking at, Tenderheart? Pervert," he muttered as he slowly drew a hand up his (newly bought, you're welcome, Berry) Gucci pajama top and ghosted his fingers over his stomach. Okay. That wasn't so bad. Try higher. Higher. And cup. This wasn't so bad either. He could pretend that he was feeling up John Travolta or something. Oh, wait. Too generous. Make that Val Kilmer. His thumb brushed lightly over the peak of a nipple and Oh! a jolt of electricity ran through him, making his skin tingle. Well, that was unexpected.

Right. Now lower. Lower. His fingers slipped into the shorts, under the panties and nestled in the curls there. It wasn't so bad; it was kind of like petting a small dog. A Maltese or a Bijon-Frise? No, that didn't make it any more appealing. Wait, weren't they supposed to be sort of feline? Would that make it sexier? Okay, a-a-Persian? Kurt patted the small mound of hair. NiceCrookshanks. Don't bite.

He took a deep breath and moved a little further, brushing against the, the-lips.

Oh, God! Abort! Ew! Ew! Why was it moist?

Kurt couldn't! Even if they were his parts they were still girlparts and they freaking him out! He sat back up in the bed and poured a generous dab of anti-bacterial lotion into his hand. Scrubbing violently like a Shakespeare villainess.

What had he been thinking? He couldn't violate Rachel's privacy like that. She sure as hell wouldn't be doing the same to him. Shaking his head he turned over and pressed his face to the scented lavender pillow. Thank God, he thought, that Rachel is just as much of a prude as I am.

.o.

Rachel Berry's wrist was in danger of becoming dislocated. How did boys get anything done? Knowing they could be doing this every day, every minute?

Throwing back her head, she ground her back into the mattress as she worked her length, her other hand pressed deep inside her. Fingers rubbing against that amazing little bundle of nerves. Oh, she had nearly jumped through the ceiling when she found out about that. Finn hadn't shared her enthusiasm, advising that he was glad Kurt had found it, he hadn't realized it was lost and could he please get the hell out of the shower cubicle because Finn could loafer his own back, thank you. Well, his loss. She could show Blaine instead, now that he had agreed to date Kurt again. Honestly, some people were sosensitive.

Hmm, Blaine. There was a nice thought. Those thoughts became images and Rachel gasped as she came for, what? The seventh time? She fell back onto the pillows with a happy sigh. This must be how Stephanie Myer felt when she wrote Twilight, she thought, pushing back hair off of her damp forehead. Kurt was going to be really mad when he saw all the chafing, but it wasn't her fault she was in the body of a sexually charged teenage boy! It was her hormones, that's all.

It had been an odd week. Terrifying and weird and- revealing?

Poor Kurt,. She frowned as she thought of all the shoves and knocks he took every single day of school. She had never realized just how much he had to do just to have the strength to be himself.

Rachel turned over in the bed, hugging the covers to her chest. She had underestimated Kurt, she really had. They were hardly that different at all, and he was a lot braver and more dignified than she had ever realized or given him credit for. If she ever got back into her own body she was going to make an effort to show him how much she appreciated what he had gone through and who he was as a person. A human being with a soul and feelings.

And a body. Her hand began to slide down her chest towards her groin.

Just one more time.

.o.

The cashier sighed as she turned the pages, hearing the door clang open to reveal a new customer.

"-you seriously want to get Brittany something from a second hand shop, Quinn? Why don't you just give her some used gum off the bottom of a bench?"

"It's vintage, Santana, and no one invited you along," the blonde girl, Quinn, snapped back. "You're free to shop for a birthday present on your own, you know."

Teenagers. Self absorbed little fuckers. Speaking of-

She leaned forward and looked at the emerald pendant under the glass counter. The newly fixed emerald pendant.

Looks like the kids from last week are waking up in their own beds this morning,she thought with a smile. Perhaps with a better understanding of each other. And maybe with a little less fucking whining.

"Can I see that, please?" The one named Quinn was in front of her, nail against the glass.

"You look with your eyes," she said, glancing back down at the magazine. Jesus, Jennifer Aniston really needed to get over it already.

"Er, hello?" The other girl appeared at Quinn's side, arms crossed and a seething attitude dripping from every pore. "You needs to get that trinket out and you needs to get out now or I'm on the phone to your manager and your ass is out the door. Okay?"

The cashier blinked slowly at the dark haired girl, whose lip was curled into a sneer.

"Today, please?"

Oh yes, this one definitely needed to be taught a lesson, she thought. Coiling the chain around her fingers, she pulled the necklace out from under the counter and dangled it in front of the two girls, the pendant resting on the back of her wrist.

"Buck fifty," she sighed wearily, snapping her gum.

"This is perfect for Brittany!" breathed Quinn, taking it from her gently. The dark haired girl's eyes glinted and her hand snatched at the pendant.

"Yeah, she'll love it!"

"Er, Santana? I found it?" The blonde frowned, fingers curling tightly around the chain.

"And thank you, I'll let Britt know you helped." Santana smiled and gave a tug. "Let go, Quinn!"

"No! I found it! You didn't even want to come in here! You said that it was full of dead skin and skid-mark covered clothing." Quinn spat out. "I'm not giving it up!"

"Why? Because it's not a baby?"

Quinn gasped. "How dare you throw that in my face! You have no idea how hard that was for me! How hard all of it was. You couldn't even begin to imagine what—"

"Is this going anywhere or should I keep an eye out for a Luck Dragon?" Santana rolled her eyes and pulled the necklace towards her.

"Give it back!" Quinn retaliated with a yank of her own. "It's mine!"

The cashier sighed as she watched the chain snap once more.

The End.