Fic. Tell the Truth Now Pt. 2
Title: Tell the Truth Now
Author: alicebluegown16
Rating: PG-13
Character/Pairings: Will/Finn, Puck, mentions of Kurt/Sam, Rachel/Mike, Tina/Artie, various Gleeks, Sue, Emma, Principal Figgins
Summary: A fundraiser gone wrong and Will and Finn finally being honest with each other. And there's pie.
AN: Part of my series other stories being Closer , Hollywood Ending, All in My Head and My Mind is Set on You. This series was started before Season Two aired and as such, certain relationships and plot points do not reflect canon. Title from the Nina Simone song Do I Move You. Also quoted/referenced is I'd Do Anything for Love and Paradise by the Dashboard Lights by Meatloaf. And the film To Have and Have Not (the movie where Bogie met Bacall.) Tracy Chapman is awesome. As is The Hunger Games book trilogy. And yes, this totally is an actual fundraiser that my high school did. Also massive shoutout and thanks to tawg as all that discussion on the Winnners Fanon Bible were hugely inspiration for character insight.
Word Count: 4,700 for Part One. 7, 900 Overall.
Finn makes excellent use of his time.
Has a whole speech planned out.
All kinds of well thought out and carefully reasoned arguments about why the two of them make sense. Possibly with bullet points and subheadings.
If he’d had a bit longer to prepare, he’d probably be able to throw together a nice PowerPoint presentation. With graphs.
He loses all of it the second Mr. Schue opens the door. There’s a small bandage across the bridge of his nose, and his eye is starting to turn an ugly shade of purple.
But what makes Finn flinch is the look of complete shock on his face, like he’d already resigned himself to the fact that Finn was going to not show. It makes Finn want to track down every single person who ever hurt Mr. Schue, let him down, made a promise and then didn’t keep it.
And it makes him pray more profusely than he ever has in his life that he’s not going to be one of those people.
Mr. Schue lets him in and offers to get him a soda and answers his polite questions about his nose (Finn had been right, it’s not broken thankfully and he has a little ‘woohoo go me’ moment because it’s kind of awesome that it turns out he’d accidentally known what he’d been talking about.)
Like that’s all this is, like Finn had just been in the neighborhood and decided to drop by to check on him and there totally isn’t a huge relationship altering elephant chillaxing in the corner. And then they both sort of mutually give up on the conversation, Mr. Schue’s sitting on the arm of the sofa picking at a hole in the knee of his jeans and Finn’s shifting from foot to foot, doing his best not to start chewing on a hangnail or have a fucking heart attack or something. He takes a moment to absorb it all, the place where the other man eats and sleeps and thinks and lives, the shelves crammed to bursting with books and DVDs and CDs. There are papers spread out on the coffee table and music playing softly, by an artist he doesn’t recognize, something smokey with lots of piano .
Do I move you, are you willin'
Do I groove you, is it thrillin'
Do I soothe you, tell the truth now
Do I move you, are you loose now
The answer better be (Yes, yes)
That pleases me
Okay, he honestly didn’t think perfect soundtrack of your life moments happened like that outside of the movies.
He wants to take it, this oh so appropriate song choice, this perfect segue, pull Mr. Schue into his arms and look him in the eyes and say “What if the answer is yes?” But that’s not what he does. Because beyond the fact that there’s no way in hell he’s cool enough to pull something like that off, Finn wants to use his own words, as stumbling and inartful as they might be.
Of course, because God clearly hates him, the first thing he blurts out is, “So, I once had a sex dream about Puck.”
It’s kind of impressive that Mr. Schue is able to limit his reaction to this revelation to nothing more than a very deliberate blinking of his eyes. Because even Finn feels confused at this direction and he had been the one to say it. But he has his attention now and he decides to run with it.
“At least I think it was a sex dream. We were wrestling over a video game controller and I woke up with sticky sheets. But I was thirteen at the time and everything was setting me off, so I just figured that was it and pretended it never happened. I mean, I once had a dream about finding Kermit the Frog encased in a block of ice in our freezer, so what did I know?”
And now Mr. Schue looks like he really wishes he could pinch the bridge of his nose and sigh.
“Finn, I hardly think one dream-“
“I’ve also kinda…noticed other guys. Not anybody I really knew-like Mike Rowe from Dirty Jobs, he’s really cool and always seems like he’s having a blast even when he’s knee deep in bat droppings. All of the actors in Inception, which I’ve seen three times and it’s not just because I have no fucking clue what it’s about. Um, both of the Manning brothers. And sometimes Johnny Depp, but that’s gotta be a freebie because who wouldn’t have a thing for him? And there’ve been other dreams. I dream about you. All the time. Some of them are about sex…okay, actually a lot of them are about sex. And sometimes it’s just-sometimes it’s just us together. Hanging out. But we’re like, together, together and it’s really awesome except for when I wake up and feel like crap because it’s not real. And I want it to be real.”
“Finn.” Mr. Schue’s voice cracks. “You’re not just wanting to try it with another guy are you? Because that’s fine, you’re allowed to be confused and questioning about yourself, but I can’t…I can’t be that person, Finn-please don’t ask me to--”
He’s trying to put this in context for Mr. Schue. Reasure him that he didn’t just wake up one day and decide ‘Hey, I think I might like dudes, nifty!’, that he’s already had his hetero freak out and come out on the other side still wanting this. But he’s clearly doing a shitty job of it judging from the way Mr. Schue is squeezing his eyes shut and wrapping his arms around his stomach like he’s trying to keep his organs from falling out.
Finn decides to take the advice of the freakishly appropriate background music and lay it all out.
When I touch you do you quiver
From your head down to your liver
If you like it let me know it
Don't be psychic or you'll blow it
The answer better be (Yes, yes)
It pleases me
“No, no. It’s you. I want you, Will.”
There. He said it. He said it and he called Mr. Schue by his first name and it feels so good he decides to do it again.
“Will.”
It’s just one syllable but he swears he could live in all the possibilites that name holds.
Finn takes a deep breath and when the sky doesn’t fall he finds he has the courage to keep talking.
“I want all kinds of things. Not just sex things, although I’m not gonna lie, I want that too because you’re you and the you that you are is really, really hot. I want to kiss you and have you kiss me back. I want to watch movies with you and be able to put my arm around you. I want to know about how you got into teaching and why you like Spanish and what’s on your bookshelves and the stuff you do for fun and what you were like when you were a kid. I want to go out with you and have our waitress think we’re a couple and have it be true. I want to be able to touch you and not need an excuse for why. I want to make you crepes for breakfast. I don’t know how, but I saw it on t.v. and they looked good, so I’d totally be willing to learn. I’m not sure if-if all of this makes me gay or bi or what. I still like girls, I just know I like you way more. It’s probably kind of shitty of me to throw this all at you when I can’t answer that, but I’m thinking what I call myself isn’t really the point. I just…when I’m with you, I’m happy and things seem to make more sense. And I want to make you happy, too. Because I kind of get the feeling you’re not and haven’t been for a long time.Which I’m hoping you don’t think is the same thing as pitying you.”
Some small bits and pieces of his prepared speech come back to him and he tosses them in for good measure.
“And yeah, I respect you and like the fact that you’re smart and know about stuff I don’t, like noir movies and languages and really awesome musicians like Warren Zevon and also this singer, whoever she is, but it’s not-it’s not hero worship. I get that you’re a person and that you’re not perfect and can be grouchy and sarcastic and I think that’s totally cool, in fact I like it. And you never led me on or anything, or made me feel weird or creeped out or uncomfortable and it’s not a you being my teacher thing or thinking of you like a dad or an older brother and it’s not me being bored or lonely. I’m not as old as you, but I’m not a kid and I’m not stupid. I’ve felt this way for awhile and I think I’m going to keep feeling like this no matter what you say because I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you. ”
He’s said his piece and so he shoves his hands in his pockets to wait.
Sometime when he’d been talking, Will had gotten up and now is standing only inches in front of him and Finn does his best not to fidget under the weight of his gaze. He thinks he knows some of what Will’s thinking (or maybe it’s just what he hopes he’s thinking) but he can’t be sure because Will’s smart, smarter than him, smarter than anyone he’s ever met before and who knows what’s going on in there under that curly hair? The fact that he’s a secret Nine Inch Nails fan is barely scratching the surface of ways that Will manages to surprise him.
It’s like in elementary school when they’d have spelling bees and he’d get a word like onomatapoeia and his mind would go blank and swear to god, all he’d be able to think of was the theme song to Bonanza and it seemed like everyone around him was leaning forward waiting for him to screw up.
All these years later and it still sometimes feels like he lives in that moment ninety percent of the day.
‘Bum, ba-dum Bonanza! Bum, ba, da-dum, gonna fuck this up!’
Didn’t Will deserve so much better? Someone with brains and ambition and something at least marginally resembling a normal attention span.
The silence seems to stretch out for years, decades, centuries. He feels like glaciers must shift in the amount of time it takes Will to say something.
“You know, I got so used to being unhappy and it came on so gradually, I didn’t even notice. But when I’m around you, I’m less…not happy.”
The words trail away and Finn has to push down the urge to run his thumb along Will’s bottom lip where he’s chewing on it.
“My shit’s still fucked up, Finn. And I can’t-I can’t just jump into something with you right now. I've been your mentor, as well as your friend, been an authority figure, been a grown-up and as wonderful as it would be if I could just turn all of that off because you say it doesn’t matter, it does. I am…I am very, very attracted to you, I can’t even try to lie about that, not anymore. But I also care about you, and I'd never do anything to hurt you if I could stop it. And I’m pretty sure us, with where my head is currently, it would hurt you. Or me. Or both of us. Maybe that makes me an idiot, for saying no to something I want so much, but...I need time. So, I guess I’m not so much saying no, as yes, but slowly. Could we have that? Us…spending time together like we have in the past, except now we both know the other person feels the same way. Could that be enough for you for now?”
Could that be enough for him? Is he kidding? A few hours ago he’d thought the best he’d ever get was being the babysitter for Will and Ms. Pillsbury’s hypothetical children. This is more than he could have hoped for.
“Yeah. That would work for me.”
He hugs Will and when Will laughs and hugs him back without any hesitation, a bubble of happiness travels all the way up Finn’s toes and settles in his chest. They stand there for several minutes, his chin settled in the crook of Will’s shoulder and he savors it all, the spicy expensive smell of Will’s cologne, Will’s arms around him, the fact that Will is solid and real and wants him too.
They pull back from each other, but not away. Will’s eyes drift down to his mouth and Finn’s left hand cups the back of Will’s neck, his other arm loose across his shoulder. His body instinctively turns inward, hip-to-hip when one of Will’s hands moves to rest at his waist.
They kiss and it’s soft at first, tentative and then quickly becomes heated. Because this is Will and he’d convinced himself this was never going to happen for how long? A flash of tongue, the click of teeth, and they only pull apart when lack of oxygen becomes an issue.
Will is glassy eyed and panting and Finn moves the hand at the back of his neck to curve around his jaw, gives into the earlier instinct to trace his thumb across Will’s lower lip. He’s touching Will’s mouth, he just kissed Will’s mouth and Will kissed him back and yes, it was totally, totally a hundred thousand times better when Will helped and good fucking god, he loves Will’s mouth, even when he doesn’t understand the stuff coming out of it, he loves watching the way it moves.
He thinks he said that out loud, he can’t quite be sure, but Will pulls away with a groan, mumbling something about how Finn’s going to be the death of him. But he’s kind of smiling a little when he says it, so Finn’s going to assume he’s not really angry. And Finn’s (mostly) okay with the fact that this is probably as far as things are going to go tonight because he knows Will’s right, this is still too new and fragile to stumble into something sexual, but he thinks he can content himself with the understanding that slow doesn’t mean standing still. And also the fact that before he’d put a safe distance between them, he’d felt Will pressing up against him and he’d been hard.
He’d done that. Made Will want him (and given him a little bit of an assurance that yes, Finn meant it when he said he wanted Will too, that he thought he was hot, because there is no damn way Will hadn’t noticed that he’s just as turned on.) He made Will forget about thinking so much for a few moments and just feel. Made him have to clear his throat a couple of times before he asks, “Do you-do you want to stay for awhile? We could order a pizza, listen to some music. This is Nina Simone by the way and if you like her, I bet you’d love some Billie Holliday or Etta James. I think Mercedes would be perfect for Etta actually…”
Yeah, all of that definitely pleases Finn.
**
They’re sprawled out on the couch and Finn’s debating if he has the energy to grab the last slice of pizza (which is bacon, jalapeno, and pineapple, a combination he’d never even contemplated before and now he’s kicking himself on what he’s been missing out on all these years because it’s cheesy, salty, sweet, spicy awesomeness.) and if it be worth it to move what with Will’s head leaning against his shoulder and all.
They’ve been listening to music for the past couple of hours. Starting with Nina Simone and Billie Holliday and then some Etta James and Will’s talking about possible numbers for Regionals had reminded him about his song idea, so they’d listened to I’d Do Anything for Love, debating who should sing what parts and sneaking little smiles at each other when Meatloaf sang about dreams and loneliness and getting out of this godforsaken town.
And then they’d listened to Paradise by the Dashboard Lights.
(During which there’d been some mutual blushing and not meeting of eyes because it’s a rock epic about a boy trying anything and everything he can to get into some girl’s pants.)
And then it had kind of all devolved from possible set lists to just ‘Cool Shit That Will Thought He Might Like.’
Stuff that he’s never heard before, never thought he’d enjoy; Celtic punk and reggae and bluegrass and folk and people who aren’t even singing in English. Will writes down all the stuff he expresses any kind of interest in and he promises to burn some CDs and Finn thinks his Ipod is going to explode from all this after having nothing but run of the mill classic rock on it and the occasional Broadway soundtrack Kurt or Rachel forced on him.
Finn’s eyes are closed and he’s warm and mellow from a combination of a food coma and the Tracy Chapman song in the background (and he doesn’t think it’s fair that Will had laughed so hard when he thought it was a guy at first. Between the name and the voice, it’s understandable that he’d been confused.)
He’s having a ‘My Kingdom for Magic Put the Pizza in my Hand Powers’ moment and wondering how Tracy Chapman songs can be so relaxing and so fucking depressing at the same time and maybe Will thinks he’s asleep or maybe Tracy has made him all melencholy because he whispers, “I don’t want to lose you.”
And he could let it go, keep quiet and pretend he never heard it, but instead he reaches down and squeezes Will’s hand.
“You won’t. I promise.” Because this is how they are, he knows this now. This is new, but this is also just next. This began when they met and this isn’t how this ends.
Which is all bullshit since no one could ever truly know any of that.
But Finn really knows how he feels when Will is around.
He makes sense with Will. When he’s with Will he can see that Will always needed a person like him, which is as good a reason as any to be the way he is.
Someday he thinks he’s going to find a coherent way of saying all that.
Or maybe he doesn’t have to worry about that.
Because Will doesn’t pull away or get all flustered and embarrassed about being heard.
Instead he squeezes back.
And he doesn’t let go of Finn’s hand.
Next story in the series: Subtext