Things We're All Too Young To Know
Title: Things We're All Too Young To Know
Author: lennoxave
Pairing,Character(s): Kurt, Finn, Burt, Carole, Puck, Rachel
Rating: PG (a wee bit of language)
Word Count: 7,947
Spoilers: Through 2.07, "The Subsitute"; major spoiler for THE BIG EVENT in 2.08, but I am spoiler-free, so no actual spoilers about THE BIG EVENT as long as you've seen the promo and know what THE BIG EVENT is. Any similarities between this and the actual episode will be pure coincidence.
Summary: My take on how THE BIG EVENT in 2.08 should go.
Author's Note: So, I felt the need to write this because . . . I don't really trust the Glee writers to handle this well. Or at least, the way I want them to. And knowing that THE BIG EVENT is dovetailing with another ongoing plot-line? Does not make me feel any better about what's going to happen in the next episode. So I wrote my own version, and I'll give you fair warning: it's a little schmoopy. Also, I'm kind of ignoring the Karofsky plot. It's not that it didn't happen in this 'verse, I'm just . . . ignoring it. So, yeah. The title comes from the song, "The Book of Love," originally by Magnetic Fields, and covered by Peter Gabriel, although this is my favorite version.
Things We’re All Too Young To Know
Carole wasn’t sure how she’d expected them to take the news. She didn’t think she’d been expecting jump-up-and-down, big-group-hug happiness, exactly, but . . . maybe she had been, because the panicked eyes and suddenly pale faces before her were really bumming her out.
"Oh my god," Kurt said, his eyes glazed over in shock.
Finn was opening and closing his mouth repeatedly, apparently trying to form coherent words but failing.
No, that wasn’t the reaction she’d been hoping for. She looked over at Burt, sitting next to her at the kitchen table. He was holding her hand tighter now, and he gave her a look that said, "I’ve got this."
"I know it’s sudden," he said. "But after my heart thing--"
"Arrhythmia," Kurt automatically corrected, even though he was still staring off into space.
"--Right. After that, I got to thinking about things, about what would happen if I--" Burt stopped and swallowed, "--you know, and I got thinking about what makes me happy and how I need to start living for that happiness, and that happiness is Carole." He smiled at her. "And you guys. And being a family, even if it’s hard."
Kurt and Finn eyed each other cautiously.
"And I know we rushed things last time. And we don’t want to do that to you guys again. So, we’re not going to go ahead with this without your blessings." Carole suddenly sat up sharply; that hadn’t been part of the plan, although she could see where he was going with it. "From both of you," Burt added, pointedly looking at Finn.
The boys looked at each other again, for longer this time. They seemed to be having a wordless conversation, searching each other’s faces for some sign of what to say. Eventually, Kurt nodded, and Finn spoke.
"Of course. Of course we’re okay with it. We were just . . ."
"Surprised, that’s all," Kurt helped him out, forcing a smile.
"Yeah," Finn said, forcing one back. "It’s just sudden." Kurt and Finn sat there for a minute, apparently considering the idea, and eventually their fake smiles turned into real ones.
"Congratulations," Kurt said, standing up and walking over to give his father a hug. Finn got up to do the same to his mother, and soon it turned into a big hug free-for-all, Finn and Kurt even exchanging friendly pats on the shoulder.
"So, what’s the deal?" Finn asked. "When is this happening? Is there going to be a wedding? Or at least cake?"
Carole smiled and looked at Burt. "We’re planning on having a small ceremony in the VA hall in two weeks, just family and close friends."
"Two weeks?" Kurt’s jaw dropped. "You’re going to plan a wedding in two weeks? That’s insane!" He paused. "I need to start looking up florists." He rushed away and down the stairs, muttering something about color schemes and Vera Wang.
"Well, I’ve got to get over to Rachel’s," Finn said. "We’re working on some glee stuff. But," he leaned over and kissed Carole on the cheek. "I’m really happy for you guys. This is good." He paused, as if he was trying to convince himself. "It’s a good thing." He clapped Burt on the shoulder, and then made his way out of the house.
As the front door clicked shut, both Burt and Carole let out a huge sigh of relief. Carole let Burt pull her into a hug.
"You are the smartest man alive and I love you so much," she murmured into his neck.
"I love you, too," he said. He pulled away. "But, um, we do have something else to worry about." Carole raised an eyebrow. "I think my son is in the basement planning our wedding."
". . . Yeah. About that," Carole said. "I’d like to include him, I really would. But . . ."
"We have a budget," Burt finished.
"And time constraints."
"And . . . different taste than he does."
They stood in the kitchen feeling dejected.
"I think it would mean a lot to him, though," Carole said.
"Yeah," Burt agreed. "Yeah, it would."
"He’s had a hell of a year."
"He definitely has."
Carole thought for a moment. "I have an idea."
It was Burt’s turn to be surprised.
"Just trust me, sweetie."
* * *
"Kurt, honey?" Carole called as she slowly made her way down the stairs.
"Mmph?" came the distracted reply. Kurt was sitting on the couch with his MacBook on his lap, apparently very engrossed in something. When it registered who was coming down the stairs, he shook himself out of it. "Oh, hi, Carole."
"Can I talk to you for a second?"
"Sure." Kurt closed his laptop and set it on the coffee table in front of him Carole took a seat next to him on the couch.
"So, I have a very big favor to ask of you," she said.
"Okay . . ." said Kurt, switching on his most guarded expression. Carole wondered what was going through his head.
"I want you to be my wedding planner." Kurt looked surprised for a second, but then a big smile broke out on his face.
"Really?" he said, and he looked ready to start spouting off ideas, but Carole put a hand up to stop him.
"I have to warn you though: it’s going to be challenge. Your dad and I agreed to a budget of two thousand dollars."
Kurt gulped. "Only two thousand dollars?"
"I know it’s not that much, but it’s a second wedding for both of us, and we didn’t feel the need for it to get too extravagant. Are you still up for it?"
Kurt thought for a second. "Yes," he said. "It’s a challenge. I can do challenges."
Carole smiled. "Great. And you did such a good job with my make-over, I know that you know what I like and don’t like, so I trust your judgement completely." She could practically see the wheels turning in his head as he readjusted whatever plans he had already been making. But he didn’t argue.
"Thank you," he said instead. He grabbed his laptop off the table. "I was thinking about doing red and cream as the colors. And what do you think of this dress?" he asked as he opened up the laptop.
"Kurt, that dress costs fifteen hundred dollars."
"I know," he said a little defensively, "but I can find off-brands with similar qualities for much less. Just tell me what you think of the concept."
It was a beautiful dress. Cream-colored, drape-y, modest but sophisticated. She had married Christopher when she was so young. Her dress then had been for a girl. This was a woman’s wedding dress. If he could find something like this . . .
"I love it," she said. "I absolutely adore it."
Kurt beamed at her. "Then it looks like I have some searching to do." He began frantically typing, and Carole got up to leave.
"Thank you," she said. "I really appreciate it."
He waved her thanks away. "No problem. I’m happy to help."
"You know," Carole smiled, "saving money on this wedding means we’ll have more to give you for your own someday."
Kurt looked up at her, his face conflicted. ". . . Should that ever happen," he said.
She wasn’t sure if he meant that he might never meet the right person or that his marriage wouldn’t be recognized legally, but Carole realized that her answer was the same either way. She leaned down and rested a hand on his cheek.
"It will, honey. I promise."
* * *
The next night, Carole and Finn came over again to discuss wedding plans with the Hummels. Finn and Burt had lasted approximately three minutes before excusing themselves to go watch college football in the living room.
"WHAT IS THIS?" Burt shouted at the TV. The Buckeyes were down 28 to 14 at the end of the first half.
"I DON’T EVEN--" Finn shouted, but he couldn’t bring himself to finish his sentence.
"This can’t happen again," Burt said.
"Not after Wisconsin," Finn agreed. It was then that Carole walked into the room and looked very pointedly at Burt.
"Uh," Burt said. "I’m gonna go get a soda. You want anything?"
"Sure, whatever you’re having is fine," said Finn, still staring angrily at the screen and completely missing his mother’s presence.
Burt walked into the kitchen. Carole and Finn needed to have a talk, and he needed to have a talk with his boy.
"Hey," he said as he opened the refrigerator door. "How’s the planning coming?"
"Good," Kurt said. He had what looked to be the floor plan of the VA hall in front of him, along with an assortment of carefully arranged color-coded cutouts. "I think we’ve finally found a cost-effective centerpiece strategy."
". . . That’s great," Burt said, even though he didn’t really know what Kurt was talking about. "Listen, I need to ask you something."
"Okay . . ." Kurt looked wary.
"I know you’ve got a lot going on with school and glee and stuff, and I don’t want to put too much responsibility on you, because that stuff should come first, but . . ." Kurt looked at him expectantly. "Would you be my best man?"
Kurt gaped at him for a second. "Of course," he finally said, standing, and Burt could tell he was trying not to cry. "Of course I will."
"Good. I’m glad," Burt replied, and he squeezed his son tightly to his chest. He could feel the tears forming in his own eyes. "There’s no one in the world I’d rather have standing up there with me."
"Thank you," Kurt whispered.
"No," Burt replied. "Thank you."
* * *
"Sweetheart?" Carole asked.
"Yeah, Mom?" Finn said, looking away from the depressing score on the screen.
"Can I talk to you about something?"
Finn looked back toward the kitchen to see if Burt was coming back, but apparently he wasn’t. "Sure. What’s up?"
Carole walked over and sat on the arm of the couch. "I know this is going to sound weird, but . . . I would like you to be my honor attendant at the wedding."
"Your what?" Finn asked, confused.
"You know . . ." Carole searched for the right words. "My, um, my man of honor."
"Wait. You mean, like, your maid of honor? But as a dude?"
"I know it’s usually a girl’s job, but--" She was cut off by the sudden impact of Finn pulling her into a bear hug.
"Yeah, I’ll be your man of honor," he said.
"You’re sure? It won’t make you uncomfortable?"
Finn stood back and considered it. "Well, your maid of honor is supposed to be, like, your best friend, right?" Carole nodded. "And, I mean, I’m your son, so I figure I’m pretty important to you, and you’re my mom, so that means you’re my number one person . . ." Carole started to cry. It made Finn get a little sniffle-y, too. "So, yeah. I’m your man of honor."
"You are." Carole said, and this time she was the one to initiate the hug. "You really are."
"So he said yes?" a voice asked, and Finn and Carole jumped at the sound. Burt was standing at the doorway grinning at them, Kurt at his side.
"He sure did," Carole said, kissing Finn on the cheek.
"Mine did, too," Burt said, bumping shoulders with Kurt.
The four of them stood there smiling at each other stupidly until Kurt finally said, "As wonderfully cheesy as all of this has been, you two are getting married in two weeks, and we still have an enormous amount of stuff to plan." He glanced at the TV screen. "And halftime’s almost over. Carole?" He offered her his arm and escorted her back into the kitchen. Finn and Burt watched them leave and then looked at each other.
"Do you feel like it might have been dangerous pairing those two up?" Burt asked Finn.
"Definitely," Finn replied.
* * *
"Finn, I don’t care if you don’t know what to do. It’s one of the responsibilities of the maid of honor! And considering I’m doing most of the other stuff--"
"Wait," Puck stopped walking by to interrupt the conversation going on at Finn’s locker, "Hudson’s going to be the maid of honor?"
"Man of honor," Finn corrected, "and I’m sorry, Kurt, but I have no idea what to do for a freakin’ bachelorette party."
"Then go to the Internet! Ask Rachel! I have too much to do as it is, what with planning the whole wedding and having to throw my dad’s bachelor party on top of that."
"Well, what I was thinking," Finn said as he closed his locker and started walking down the hallway with Kurt, Puck following at an impolite distance, "was that we could maybe switch parties?"
Kurt stopped in his tracks. "This is going to be good," Puck smirked.
"And, why, exactly, do you think that that’s a good idea?" Kurt asked, a hand on his hip and good Lord did he remind Finn of Mercedes at that moment.
"Uh," Finn said, and he felt like he was walking into a trap, "because, like, I know a lot about guy stuff and you know a lot about girl stuff and--" Finn was cut off by Kurt scoffing and storming away.
"Jesus, dude, way to shove your foot into your mouth so hard your Converse are sitting in your stomach," Puck said.
"Why are you even in this conversation?" Finn bitched at him as he jogged to catch up with Kurt.
"Because I’m awesome." Puck jogged along side him. "And if I can’t cause my own destructive fun without landing back in juvie, I can get my kicks watching somebody else screw up for a change."
They finally caught up with Kurt.
"Look, I’m sorry for whatever was offensive about what I just said, but I didn’t mean it as something about being gay, or gender, or whatever." Kurt stopped walking and turned to face Finn.
"No, you never do, do you?" Kurt was winding up into rant, Finn could just tell. "You just--"
"What are you doing for his bachelor party?" Finn cut him off. Kurt looked taken aback.
"Wait, what?"
"If you’re so incredibly qualified to plan your dad’s bachelor party, then what are you doing for it?"
"I . . . haven’t gotten around to it yet." Kurt did his best to maintain his aura of haughty disdain, but it was difficult when his comeback was so ineffective.
"So, forget trading," Finn said. "Can’t we just . . . help each other out? I don’t know what to do for my mom, you don’t know what to do for your dad, maybe we could just brainstorm?"
Kurt sighed. "Fine. Bachelor party first."
"Strippers," Puck suggested with his best rock-star posturing, which included throwing devil’s horns and sticking his tongue out like Gene Simmons.
"NO!" Finn and Kurt shouted at him simultaneously.
"Uh . . . sports?" Kurt said lamely. "A . . . sports party? Where people watch whatever sport gets played this time of year?"
"No," Finn said, resisting the urge to rub the fact that he had been totally right in Kurt’s face. "He does that all the time. It should be something special, a type of fun he doesn’t get to have all the time."
"Exactly. Strippers," Puck said again. This time he was met by twin epic side-eyes.
"What about laser tag?" asked Finn.
"Finn, my dad was in a coma less than two months ago. He is not playing laser tag."
"Okay, good point." The two of them (and Puck) stood there for a minute, thinking.
"Karaoke," Puck finally said. Finn and Kurt looked at him.
"What did you just say?" Kurt asked.
"Karaoke. The bar in the bowling alley has it, and they let you rent out one of their birthday rooms and use their machine if you go on a night they don’t do it at the bar." Puck paused. "Not that I’ve ever done that. Or anything."
"That’s actually . . ." Finn started.
". . . not the worst idea I’ve ever heard," Kurt finished.
"Is your dad allowed to drink?" asked Finn.
"The doctor said it’s okay if he has a beer or two. But his garage buddies will drink more than enough to make up for it, I can assure you. And Randy always sings along with the radio, so I know at least one person will be singing."
"Four," Puck corrected him.
"What?"
"Well, you guys are going, right?"
"I guess," Finn said. "But that’s still only--"
"And then I’ll be there, so that’s four."
"What?" Kurt asked again.
"Yeah, so when’s this happening?"
"Saturday night . . ." Finn said, confused.
"What?" Kurt echoed Finn’s befuddlement.
"Awesome, I’ll set it up with Vinnie, the bar manager. Catch you guys later," Puck said as he left.
"Did Puck just invite himself to my dad’s bachelor party?" Kurt asked.
"I . . . I think so," Finn said. "Huh. Anyway, so what are we going to do about my mom’s bachelorette party?"
"Oh, I have no idea," Kurt replied.
"What?"
"There’s no one-size-fits-all answer to what girls like, Finn. I hang out with teenage girls, not moms. Plus I can’t be there on Sunday, anyway."
"Why not?"
"Coach Sylvester wants me to practice with the Cheerios that day."
"I thought you didn’t go out for the squad this year?"
Kurt shrugged. "All I know is, when Sue Sylvester asks you to do something, you do it."
"Fair enough."
"Anyway, just do, like, a brunch thing. And maybe movies? Your mother isn’t really a wild and crazy lady. Just get her together with her friends and she won’t care that much what she does. She’ll just appreciate the effort you put in." Kurt checked his phone. "Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have an appointment with the cake people to get to."
"Um, thanks? For you help?" Finn said as Kurt walked away. "I guess?"
* * *
"So, why is this Puckerman kid here again?" Burt leaned over and asked Kurt
"Honestly, I have no idea," Kurt replied. "But he booked the room for us, so it seemed like we would be being ungrateful if we kicked him out."
"Hmm. He’s a good singer."
"True."
"Although I’m not sure why anyone would sing ‘White Wedding’ at someone’s bachelor party."
"Puck can have a very . . . acute sense of irony sometimes."
"And why did he book the room for you?"
"I . . . have no idea. He volunteered, actually, which was weird."
"Hmm. Speaking of, is Blaine coming to the wedding?"
It took Kurt a few seconds to recover from the whiplash of subject change and figure out the connection his dad was making. "Nonononono," he said. "Puck is straight. Puck is the straightest straight guy to ever straight. He’s the one who got Quinn Fabray pregnant, Dad."
"Oh."
"Yeah. But, no, Blaine can’t make it. The Warblers do community service projects once a month, and next Saturday they’re singing at nursing homes around Columbus."
"Well, it’s nice to know he’s a civic-minded young man."
Kurt just looked at his father, unsure if he really wanted to have this conversation right now. Thankfully, Puck’s song ended, so they were obliged to clap for him and figure out who was singing next.
"I’ll go," Burt said, and Kurt was downright shocked. He couldn’t remember ever hearing his father sing. Which made it weird that he had picked karaoke for the bachelor party. But his dad enjoyed music a lot, so it had seemed like a decent idea. And Burt had definitely been having a good time listening to Kurt sing classic jazz, and Finn bust out Bon Jovi, and even Randy butchering his way through the entire AC/DC catalog. But now he was going to sing for himself. Kurt was very curious about how this would turn out.
Burt looked nervous on the makeshift stage. But soon the music started, and Burt began the spoken word intro.
"We’re so glad to see so many of you lovely people here tonight, and we would especially like to welcome all the representatives of the Illinois law enforcement community who have chosen to join us in the Palace Hotel Ballroom at this time. We certainly hope you all enjoy the show. And remember, people, that no matter who you are and what you do to live, thrive and survive, there're still some things that makes us all the same. You. Me. Them. Everybody. Everybody."
He started out a little awkward, but by the end of it, he was full-out in character. Kurt could not have been more surprised.
Or, at least, he didn’t think he could have. But then his dad started singing.
"Everybody. Needs somebody. Everybody. Needs somebody to love. Someone to love," he held the microphone out to Randy, who supplied the deep echo, "Someone to love."
"Kurt," Finn leaned over, "since when is your dad a Blues Brother?"
"I . . . I don’t know! I had no idea!" But his dad was good. His dad was really good. Kurt had always assumed he got his musical talent from his mother, but he was beginning to wonder about that now.
"People, when you do find that special somebody," Burt was pretending to be Elwood Blues again, "you gotta hold that man, hold that woman! Love him, please him, squeeze her, please her! Signify your feelings with every gentle caress, because it's so important to have that special somebody to hold, to kiss, to miss, to squeeze, and please!"
Kurt watched as his dad finished the song. After being congratulated by the rest of the party, Burt sat down next to his son.
"I didn’t know you could do that," Kurt said. "How come I didn’t know you could do that?"
"Oh, it wasn’t that good," Burt said.
Kurt turned to his father and gripped him on the shoulder. "Trust me, it was good. And you were enjoying yourself." His dad looked uncomfortable. "I’ve never even heard you sing before, much less put on a real performance. What happened?"
Burt sighed. "I’ve told you that I met your mom in JC, right? When I was getting certified as a mechanic, and she was slumming it in the interior design program to piss off her trust-fund parents?"
"Yeah," Kurt said, smiling at the thought of his mom’s rebellious stage.
"Well, that wasn’t the whole story." Kurt’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. "The way I met your mom was . . . the theater department was doing Grease. And they needed guys."
"No way."
"And there was this really cute chick playing Sandy, and I liked to sing along with the radio, so I decided to give it a shot."
"And you played Danny, met your Sandy, and fell in love," Kurt finished, looking off dreamily.
Burt chuckled. "Nope. Your mom played Rizzo."
"What?"
"Yeah. She had settled down by the time you were born, but she was quite the dame back then. And I was one of the other T-birds. I don’t even remember which one, now. Anyway, I got over cute Sandy, realized what a catch your mom was, and that’s how we got together."
"Okay, but I don’t get . . ."
"We’ve . . ." Burt looked down at his lap. "We’ve never really had the same taste in music, y’know? I mean, let’s face it, Grease is the only musical I can even tolerate. I remember once, when you were still a baby, I tried to sing you to sleep one night, to give your mom a rest. And you just wailed, and she had to come in and sing to you instead. You always liked your mom’s voice so much, I just figured . . . mine would bother you. It was just one more thing we wouldn’t have in common."
Kurt looked at his father. "You’re good. You’re really good, and I like more types of music than you realize. Dad, I love you, but sometimes you’re kind of an idiot."
"Yeah," Burt smiled, "I know."
* * *
Finn Hudson was in his kitchen having what he could only assume was a panic attack. His mom and all her friends (including Puck’s mom, which was just five kinds of weird) had come back to the Hudson household after brunch and were sitting in the living room, waiting for him to bring out mimosas. Burt had bought the champagne, told him how to make them, and given him a very long speech about the wrath that would be brought down on his head should he try to drink any of it himself. The problem was that, while he could remember in great detail all of the punishments he would receive for dipping into the champagne, he could not for the life of him remember what was in a mimosa.
There was a knock on the back door.
"Oh, thank god," Finn said as he answered. Rachel was standing in front of him with a cloth shopping bag full of something.
"Hi, honey," she said, standing on her tiptoes and waiting for Finn to lean down so she could kiss him on the cheek.
That being accomplished, Finn asked, "What’s in the bag?"
"Oh, I just thought I’d bring some oranges over. You know, as garnish for the mimosas?"
"ORANGE JUICE!" Finn exclaimed, louder than he’d meant to. "Sorry," he said at Rachel’s startled look. "I couldn’t remember what else was in there besides champagne."
Rachel looked at him. "You’re kind of a wreck today, aren’t you?"
"I don’t know how Puck does it. Moms are exhausting. And I just want everything to be right . . ."
Rachel gave Finn’s hand a squeeze. "Don’t worry. I’ll get started on the drinks, and you can go pop in a movie for them, all right? What did you get, anyway?"
Finn looked excited. "Oh! I got them the last James Bond movie! ‘Cause, y’know, it’s awesome and fun and . . . girls like Daniel Craig?" he finished, seeing the appalled look on Rachel’s face. Wordlessly, she reached into her bag and pulled out a stack of DVDs.
"Hold this," she said, thrusting the bag of oranges into Finn’s hands.
"What do you have?" he asked.
"A Gene Kelly movie marathon," Rachel replied. "I got inspired."
"Rach, I don’t think--" Finn started, but she was in the living room before he could stop her.
"Hello, everyone! I’m Finn’s girlfriend, Rachel, and I’m going to get you started on the day’s entertainment while Finn is preparing your drinks. So, who likes Gene Kelly?"
Finn prepared himself for the chorus of objections that he assumed would arise from such a question; instead, he heard oohs and ahhs, followed by a woman saying, "I just love watching Gene Kelly on TCM."
"Well, good!" Rachel said. "Because we’re going to start off with Singing in the Rain, segue into An American in Paris, and end the day with Brigadoon."
"Fantastic," Carole said. "Thank you so much for helping out, Rachel. You’re welcome to watch with us." Finn noticed that his mother spoke to Rachel with more warmth than she ever had Quinn.
"I will! Let me just go see how Finn is doing in the kitchen." She walked back in and smiled at Finn. "There is no woman on Earth who doesn’t want to spend an afternoon watching Gene Kelly."
"I love you," Finn said, wrapping his arms around Rachel.
"I love you, too," she said. "Now, let’s get these mimosas made. Where do you keep your champagne flutes?"
"Our what?"
* * *
It was finally the big day. Kurt was up and at the hall early, supervising the arrangements in both the room where the ceremony was going to be held and the reception room. It was about noon when he got back to his house. He sat in his car for a minute, calling each member of New Directions to make sure they were going to be on time for their performance at the wedding.
"Dammit, Hummel, my mom’s a bridesmaid! She woke me up at nine to go by some lame-ass make-up for her, I’m going to be at the hall on time," Puck grumbled when he answered the phone.
"Just checking," Kurt replied. "Can I ask you something?"
"No, I will not make out with you."
Kurt rolled his eyes. "No, something serious."
"Who’s not being serious?"
Kurt would have rolled his eyes again, but they hurt from how hard he had rolled them the first time. "Why’d you help out with my dad’s bachelor party?"
There was silence at the other end of the line. "Puck?" Kurt asked.
"Look, if you tell anybody this, I will personally light every one of your little scarves on fire, but I did it for Carole, all right? She and my mom, they practically tag-team raised me and Finn and . . . the dude that marries her? Has got to be one stand-up guy."
". . . You organized a bachelor party to make sure my dad was good enough for Carole Hudson?"
"Pretty much."
"Did he pass?"
Kurt could almost hear Puck’s smirk over the phone. "They’re getting married, aren’t they?" Before he could say anything, Puck continued. "See you, Hummel."
"Bye."
When Kurt walked into the house, the first thing he heard was his father pacing back and forth in the bedroom.
"Nervous?" Kurt asked as he stood in the doorway.
"No," Burt said. "Maybe. Yes."
"Come on, I’ll make you something to eat."
"I don’t think that’s the best idea, Kurt."
"You’ll have to wait until six, otherwise."
Burt thought about it for a second. "Maybe some toast?"
"Toast it is," Kurt said. "After that, I’ll change, and then I can teach you how to tie a bow tie."
"Can’t you just do it for me?" asked Burt.
"No. It’s a travesty that a man your age has never . . ." Kurt’s words were lost as he walked down the hallway toward the kitchen.
* * *
"Mom, you’re not supposed to be out here!" Finn said, but Carole just rolled her eyes at her son.
"What, because it’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her wedding dress before the wedding?"
"Well, yeah!" Finn said this like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"Sweetie," Carole said, "is Burt even here yet?"
"Well, no," Finn admitted. "Kurt’s still trying to teach him how to dress himself." They’d been keeping in constant contact through text, mostly because Kurt didn’t trust everything at the hall to be taken care of but also didn’t trust his father and his other groomsmen to get ready in a timely fashion, and he could only be in one place at a time. So Finn was taking care of all of the last minute stuff, with detailed instructions from Kurt, which Finn was kind of annoyed with but also secretly relieved about.
Carole laughed at his comment. "Of course he is." She looked into the ceremony room. "Everything looks lovely."
"Good," Finn said. A man came up behind him.
"Excuse me, sir?" the man asked. Finn jumped at being referred to as "sir." It’d been happening a lot today, and it was still kind of freaking him out. "They’re here with the cake?"
"Great!" he said. "They can bring it into the room across the way and put it on that red table near the front." He and his mother watched as two men carried in an extravagant three-tiered cake, bright red and made up of crazy architectural swirls. Everything else at the hall was very understated, classy, and elegant. Kurt had done a great job of adhering to Carole’s perimeters. The cake, though? The cake was all Kurt.
"Wow," Finn said as it went by. "That is very . . ." The word he was looking for was "ostentatious," but sadly that word was not in his vocabulary.
"Yeah," Carole agreed, "I get what you mean. Still, the place looks great, I’m not wearing a Lady Gaga-inspired wedding dress, and he came in three hundred dollars under budget. There could be sparklers and a dwarf tap-dancing on that cake, and I’d still call this a win."
Finn grinned at his mom. "As long as you’re happy, I’m happy."
"I’m happy, Finn. I’m very happy."
Finn’s phone buzzed in his pocket. "The glee kids are here. I’ve got to go give them directions on how to usher and stuff. Can you go back to the waiting room so I don’t have to worry about you being out here when Burt and Kurt get here?"
"All right, if it means that much to you." Carole gave her son a kiss on the cheek. "I’ll see you soon."
* * *
A half hour later, guests were starting to arrive. Finn had popped his head in to let her know that the groom and his attendants were here, and that Kurt had commandeered him to help take care of a lint roller crisis and did she need anything before he left? The other members of the bridal party (Edith Puckerman and Carole’s best friend from work, Rita) assured him that they could take care of any other crises that might emerge, and he left them to attend to Lintpocalypse 2010.
Carole’s mother stopped by a few minutes later.
"Oh, baby," she said, hugging her daughter. "You look beautiful."
"Thanks, Mom," Carole said. "Ready to walk me down the aisle?"
"It’s only fair that it’s my turn, this time. Still, I wish your father was here."
"Me, too. He would have loved Burt."
"I think so, too, sweetheart." Carole’s mother had met Burt the previous night at the rehearsal dinner. "I think so, too."
They looked at each other with teary smiles for a bit before Carole finally laughed and said, "Enough of this! It’s time for beautification," and handed her over to the hairstylist, Becca.
About fifteen minutes later, another group stopped at the door. It was Carole’s brother Joe and his family. His six-year-old daughter Elizabeth was going to be the flower girl.
"Hey, Joe!" Carole gave her brother a hug and greeted the rest of the family. "Elizabeth," she said when she got to the little girl, "are you sure you don’t want to get your hair done with the big girls?"
"Nope!" Elizabeth replied. She had insisted on wearing her hair in a braid for the ceremony, and Carole and Joe had quickly acquiesced with a "Kids? What’re you going to do." mentality. Joe patted his daughter on the head fondly.
"Carole?" he asked. "Can I talk to you about something for a second? In private?" He cast a glance at the bridesmaids and the hairstylist.
". . . Sure," she replied uncertainly. "Do you guys mind?" Everyone shook their heads and made their way out of the room, leaving only Joe, Carole, and their mother.
"Mom?" Joe asked.
"Joseph, I’m sixty-seven years old and I have rollers in my hair. I’m not moving for you or anybody."
Joe frowned. "Okay. I think you’ll agree with what I have to say, too."
Carole did not like the sound of that. "All right," she said, narrowing her eyes, "what’s all this about?"
"I like Burt," Joe began. "I really do. But," he lowered his voice, "his son, Carole."
Oh. So, that. That was what this was going to be about.
"What about his son, Joe?"
Joe looked at his sister. "You know what I’m talking about."
"No, I’m positive I don’t. What could you possibly be referring to?"
Joe sighed. "He’s gay, Carole."
"And?" Carole asked, her face defiant.
"He’s gay and I don’t like the idea of my nephew living with a f--" Carole clapped a hand over his mouth before he could finish speaking.
"That is my step-son you’re talking about, Joseph, and you had better treat him with respect," Carole said, her voice downright cold.
"Carole, you can’t be serious!"
"I am serious, Joe. Can you really be that ignorant? To judge someone for something they can’t control? That’s as inherent to their being as your brown eyes or Elizabeth’s blonde hair? I know that boy, Joe. And he is one of the smartest, bravest people I have ever met in my entire life, and he would do anything for family. That is absolutely the type of person I want my son to live with."
Joe looked astonished. "Mom!" he appealed to his mother.
She just shook her head. "He’s nice and polite, Joe. He was raised right, and I don’t give a damn who folks fancy as long as they were raised right."
"Finn can’t be okay with this," Joe said.
"Finn and Kurt were friends before I even met Burt," Carole replied, and if she was leaving out some bits of history that weren’t even relevant anymore for the sake of her argument, well, she was fine with that.
"I’ll talk to him, then. Make him see reason since someone in his life didn’t," Joe said, getting up in his sister’s face.
"I wouldn’t do that, Joe," she said, getting right back up in his. "Finn’s a loyal kid, and he’s as big as Christopher was now. And Chris always could kick your ass."
Joe backed down. "I can’t believe you’re choosing a stranger’s kid over your own flesh and blood."
Carole gestured at their mother. "Seriously? Because, as far as I can tell, you’re the only one who has an issue with it. So, really, I’m choosing the son of the man I love, a boy who I have grown to love, over a person spewing so much hate I don’t even recognize him any more."
Joe looked between his mother and his sister. "Fine. But when this all blows up in your face, don’t come crying to me." He turned to leave, but Carole grabbed his arm.
"Know that," she growled, "if you do one thing to disturb this wedding, I will give Finn full permission to punch you in the face. And I don’t think there’s a person here who will admit to having seen it to the police." She let go and let her brother storm out of the room.
"I’m sorry, sweetie," her mother said. "I don’t know where he got that mean streak from, but he’ll get over it."
"He’d better," Carole muttered. "Or I will get Kurt to sit next to him at every family function until he does."
* * *
Carole and her mother were still in the waiting room. They would be until the rest of the bridal party had processed forth. Right now, all of those people were in the lobby, waiting for the ceremony to begin. The flower girl was standing in the doorway, and behind her chatting were Burt’s groomsmen (his friends from the shop) and Carole’s bridesmaids. Kurt and Finn were standing a bit further back from the rest, leaning against the lobby wall.
"I am exhausted," Kurt said, resting his head on the wall behind him.
"Me, too," Finn agreed. "But it’s worth it, right? To see our parents happy together?"
"Yeah," Kurt smiled. "Definitely worth it."
Finn bit his lip. "But what about us?"
Kurt looked at him. "What do you mean?"
"You know what I mean. Things haven’t been right between us. Not since--" Finn faltered at the recollection of the basement. "But before that, even. Really, things have been weird between us since our parents got together."
Kurt awkwardly cleared his throat. "Some of that may have been my fault."
"Mine, too, but things should have gotten better by now, right? And they haven’t. And," Finn was surprised to hear his voice starting to get emotional, "that’s not what I want. We’re going to be step-brothers, dude. We need to fix this, but I don’t know how."
Kurt sighed. Finn’s earnestness often managed to be both endearing and exasperating. "I sincerely doubt that we’re going to fix this in the next," he checked his pocket watch, "five minutes."
"I know, but can we . . . start?"
"How?"
"I don’t know . . . just by being honest with each other? Talking about our feelings?"
Kurt stuck his hands in his pockets and looked at the floor. Finn thought he was going to protest but instead he asked, "Do you remember that week I dressed like a truck-driver reject?"
"Yeah, that was weird."
Kurt gave a mirthless chuckle. "It was because of you."
"What did--"
"And my dad and . . . how you’re both so alike. You have the same interests. What . . . what society says a normal guy should be interested in."
"Kurt, that’s--"
"Please, Finn. If you want me to talk about my feelings, you’re going to have to stop trying to interrupt."
"Sorry."
"I realize it was ridiculous, I sort of knew it at the time, but I just thought . . . if I could just be that guy, that normal guy, that I could . . . get my dad back. That I could have the type of relationship with him that you do."
Kurt looked up to keep the tears in his eyes from running down his face. Finn wanted to jump in, but he stopped himself.
"Because it’s so much easier for him to talk to you. But . . . I realized that I couldn’t change who I was. It was stupid to think I could."
There were tears in Finn’s own eyes at this point. "That’s not--" he started to say, but he stopped and let out his own humorless laugh, "--stupid." Kurt looked at him, and Finn saw the glint of recognition in his eyes. "At least, y’know, why you did it. God, how screwed up is it that talking was so much easier when I thought I was going to be a father?"
They both smiled sad smiles and shook their heads.
"That day," Finn finally said. "That day, you know which one." And he knew that Kurt did, but he needed to say it for himself, needed to recognize what he did in order to atone for it. "The day I called your stuff faggy." He winced at his own words; Kurt’s brow furrowed but the other boy said nothing. "It was about more than you. It was about mostly not you. I’d been getting crap about glee. The day I freaked at you for touching me? I’d gotten ambushed in the bathroom. Called bisexual. And I shouldn’t care, I shouldn’t give a damn. But you know me, Kurt. You know how much I care about what other people think. And right now, I care less than I did, but more than I should." He paused.
"I don’t get it, what you have to go through. I don’t understand; I don’t know if I could. But I’m trying. I’m not perfect, and I’m going to screw up. But I want to try, and I can’t figure it out if you don’t help me." He gave Kurt a pleading look. He wanted this to work.
Kurt looked back at him, and suddenly bust out laughing.
"I . . . what?" Finn asked, smiling despite the fact he had no idea what was going on.
"I . . ." Kurt started, but had to stop because he was still laughing. He had a few more false starts before he finally got it right. "You say that like I’ve never screwed up. Did Rachel ever tell you about the make-over?"
"What make-over?" Finn asked. That set Kurt giggling again.
"That horrifying streetwalker-cat-suit-bad-Sandy phase she went through before Sectionals last year?"
"Yeah?"
"That was me."
"What?"
"I had this insane notion that destroying Rachel," Kurt stopped to giggle, "would somehow get me closer to you, even though you were with Quinn at the time."
Finn looked at Kurt cracking up, and he started to laugh a little himself. "You . . . you. You were responsible for the sad-clown-hooker look?" At Finn’s name for it, both of them started to laugh harder.
"That’s what you thought of it?"
"Dude, I said it to her face." And they both dissolved into a fit of giggling loud enough that Edith Puckerman turned around and shushed them.
As they managed to get control of themselves again, Kurt wiped tears of laughter from his eyes. "I am sorry about that," he said.
"Rachel’s the one you should apologize to, not me." Finn took a few deep breaths to calm himself down. "I’m sorry we never consider your ideas for mash-ups."
"I’m sorry I’ve awkwardly sung pointedly chosen songs to you during rehearsal."
"I’m sorry I’ve done the same thing, only using somebody else’s pointedly chosen song."
"I’m sorry I freaked you out during the ballads assignment."
"I’m sorry that I let you."
"I’m sorry I convinced you to tell your girlfriend’s crazy religious parents that you had knocked her up. Through song."
"I’m sorry my relationship with your dad ever made you feel bad about yourself."
"I’m sorry I ever let it."
"I’m sorry I freaked out on you when your dad was in the damn hospital."
"I’m sorry I wasn’t thinking clearly enough to call you about it."
"I’m sorry I took out my dad-issues on you."
"I’m sorry I helped push our parents into living together."
"I’m sorry I verbally attacked you in your own home."
"I’m sorry I used you as my safe straight-boy crush and then pursued that crush to ridiculous lengths."
"I’m sorry that I’m not always sensitive to your feelings, like with the whole Sam-duet thing."
"I’m sorry that me being who I am sometimes puts you in awkward situations."
Finn grabbed Kurt’s arm. "Dude, you never have to be sorry about that, do you understand?" Kurt’s eyes welled up the slightest bit, but he just nodded.
"I think we’ve hit just about everything now?" he said.
"I’m sorry I was ever one of those people who bullied you," Finn said, unable to meet Kurt’s eyes. Neither of them spoke for a moment.
"Thank you," Kurt finally said in return. All of a sudden, the line in front of them started moving. The processional music had begun playing while they were talking, and they hadn’t even noticed.
"Oh, shit," Finn muttered as they both stood up straight and joined the rest of the group.
"You’ve got my dad’s ring?" Kurt asked. Finn checked his pants pocket.
"Yup. My mom’s?"
"Right here," Kurt said.
They stood and watched the first pair of the bridal party start to process.
Kurt smirked. "There’s one thing I’m not sorry about, though."
"What’s that?"
"Setting our parents up," he said, smiling at Finn, one of the first genuine smiles Kurt had directed his way in a long time. "Even if my reasons for it were crazy, I still think it was one of the smartest things I’ve ever done."
Finn smiled back. "No, I’m pretty okay with that one, too."
The pair in front of them began to walk down the aisle. Finn glanced at Kurt out of the side of his eye.
"Ready, brother?" he asked.
"Ready, brother," Kurt said.
Author: lennoxave
Pairing,Character(s): Kurt, Finn, Burt, Carole, Puck, Rachel
Rating: PG (a wee bit of language)
Word Count: 7,947
Spoilers: Through 2.07, "The Subsitute"; major spoiler for THE BIG EVENT in 2.08, but I am spoiler-free, so no actual spoilers about THE BIG EVENT as long as you've seen the promo and know what THE BIG EVENT is. Any similarities between this and the actual episode will be pure coincidence.
Summary: My take on how THE BIG EVENT in 2.08 should go.
Author's Note: So, I felt the need to write this because . . . I don't really trust the Glee writers to handle this well. Or at least, the way I want them to. And knowing that THE BIG EVENT is dovetailing with another ongoing plot-line? Does not make me feel any better about what's going to happen in the next episode. So I wrote my own version, and I'll give you fair warning: it's a little schmoopy. Also, I'm kind of ignoring the Karofsky plot. It's not that it didn't happen in this 'verse, I'm just . . . ignoring it. So, yeah. The title comes from the song, "The Book of Love," originally by Magnetic Fields, and covered by Peter Gabriel, although this is my favorite version.
Things We’re All Too Young To Know
Carole wasn’t sure how she’d expected them to take the news. She didn’t think she’d been expecting jump-up-and-down, big-group-hug happiness, exactly, but . . . maybe she had been, because the panicked eyes and suddenly pale faces before her were really bumming her out.
"Oh my god," Kurt said, his eyes glazed over in shock.
Finn was opening and closing his mouth repeatedly, apparently trying to form coherent words but failing.
No, that wasn’t the reaction she’d been hoping for. She looked over at Burt, sitting next to her at the kitchen table. He was holding her hand tighter now, and he gave her a look that said, "I’ve got this."
"I know it’s sudden," he said. "But after my heart thing--"
"Arrhythmia," Kurt automatically corrected, even though he was still staring off into space.
"--Right. After that, I got to thinking about things, about what would happen if I--" Burt stopped and swallowed, "--you know, and I got thinking about what makes me happy and how I need to start living for that happiness, and that happiness is Carole." He smiled at her. "And you guys. And being a family, even if it’s hard."
Kurt and Finn eyed each other cautiously.
"And I know we rushed things last time. And we don’t want to do that to you guys again. So, we’re not going to go ahead with this without your blessings." Carole suddenly sat up sharply; that hadn’t been part of the plan, although she could see where he was going with it. "From both of you," Burt added, pointedly looking at Finn.
The boys looked at each other again, for longer this time. They seemed to be having a wordless conversation, searching each other’s faces for some sign of what to say. Eventually, Kurt nodded, and Finn spoke.
"Of course. Of course we’re okay with it. We were just . . ."
"Surprised, that’s all," Kurt helped him out, forcing a smile.
"Yeah," Finn said, forcing one back. "It’s just sudden." Kurt and Finn sat there for a minute, apparently considering the idea, and eventually their fake smiles turned into real ones.
"Congratulations," Kurt said, standing up and walking over to give his father a hug. Finn got up to do the same to his mother, and soon it turned into a big hug free-for-all, Finn and Kurt even exchanging friendly pats on the shoulder.
"So, what’s the deal?" Finn asked. "When is this happening? Is there going to be a wedding? Or at least cake?"
Carole smiled and looked at Burt. "We’re planning on having a small ceremony in the VA hall in two weeks, just family and close friends."
"Two weeks?" Kurt’s jaw dropped. "You’re going to plan a wedding in two weeks? That’s insane!" He paused. "I need to start looking up florists." He rushed away and down the stairs, muttering something about color schemes and Vera Wang.
"Well, I’ve got to get over to Rachel’s," Finn said. "We’re working on some glee stuff. But," he leaned over and kissed Carole on the cheek. "I’m really happy for you guys. This is good." He paused, as if he was trying to convince himself. "It’s a good thing." He clapped Burt on the shoulder, and then made his way out of the house.
As the front door clicked shut, both Burt and Carole let out a huge sigh of relief. Carole let Burt pull her into a hug.
"You are the smartest man alive and I love you so much," she murmured into his neck.
"I love you, too," he said. He pulled away. "But, um, we do have something else to worry about." Carole raised an eyebrow. "I think my son is in the basement planning our wedding."
". . . Yeah. About that," Carole said. "I’d like to include him, I really would. But . . ."
"We have a budget," Burt finished.
"And time constraints."
"And . . . different taste than he does."
They stood in the kitchen feeling dejected.
"I think it would mean a lot to him, though," Carole said.
"Yeah," Burt agreed. "Yeah, it would."
"He’s had a hell of a year."
"He definitely has."
Carole thought for a moment. "I have an idea."
It was Burt’s turn to be surprised.
"Just trust me, sweetie."
* * *
"Kurt, honey?" Carole called as she slowly made her way down the stairs.
"Mmph?" came the distracted reply. Kurt was sitting on the couch with his MacBook on his lap, apparently very engrossed in something. When it registered who was coming down the stairs, he shook himself out of it. "Oh, hi, Carole."
"Can I talk to you for a second?"
"Sure." Kurt closed his laptop and set it on the coffee table in front of him Carole took a seat next to him on the couch.
"So, I have a very big favor to ask of you," she said.
"Okay . . ." said Kurt, switching on his most guarded expression. Carole wondered what was going through his head.
"I want you to be my wedding planner." Kurt looked surprised for a second, but then a big smile broke out on his face.
"Really?" he said, and he looked ready to start spouting off ideas, but Carole put a hand up to stop him.
"I have to warn you though: it’s going to be challenge. Your dad and I agreed to a budget of two thousand dollars."
Kurt gulped. "Only two thousand dollars?"
"I know it’s not that much, but it’s a second wedding for both of us, and we didn’t feel the need for it to get too extravagant. Are you still up for it?"
Kurt thought for a second. "Yes," he said. "It’s a challenge. I can do challenges."
Carole smiled. "Great. And you did such a good job with my make-over, I know that you know what I like and don’t like, so I trust your judgement completely." She could practically see the wheels turning in his head as he readjusted whatever plans he had already been making. But he didn’t argue.
"Thank you," he said instead. He grabbed his laptop off the table. "I was thinking about doing red and cream as the colors. And what do you think of this dress?" he asked as he opened up the laptop.
"Kurt, that dress costs fifteen hundred dollars."
"I know," he said a little defensively, "but I can find off-brands with similar qualities for much less. Just tell me what you think of the concept."
It was a beautiful dress. Cream-colored, drape-y, modest but sophisticated. She had married Christopher when she was so young. Her dress then had been for a girl. This was a woman’s wedding dress. If he could find something like this . . .
"I love it," she said. "I absolutely adore it."
Kurt beamed at her. "Then it looks like I have some searching to do." He began frantically typing, and Carole got up to leave.
"Thank you," she said. "I really appreciate it."
He waved her thanks away. "No problem. I’m happy to help."
"You know," Carole smiled, "saving money on this wedding means we’ll have more to give you for your own someday."
Kurt looked up at her, his face conflicted. ". . . Should that ever happen," he said.
She wasn’t sure if he meant that he might never meet the right person or that his marriage wouldn’t be recognized legally, but Carole realized that her answer was the same either way. She leaned down and rested a hand on his cheek.
"It will, honey. I promise."
* * *
The next night, Carole and Finn came over again to discuss wedding plans with the Hummels. Finn and Burt had lasted approximately three minutes before excusing themselves to go watch college football in the living room.
"WHAT IS THIS?" Burt shouted at the TV. The Buckeyes were down 28 to 14 at the end of the first half.
"I DON’T EVEN--" Finn shouted, but he couldn’t bring himself to finish his sentence.
"This can’t happen again," Burt said.
"Not after Wisconsin," Finn agreed. It was then that Carole walked into the room and looked very pointedly at Burt.
"Uh," Burt said. "I’m gonna go get a soda. You want anything?"
"Sure, whatever you’re having is fine," said Finn, still staring angrily at the screen and completely missing his mother’s presence.
Burt walked into the kitchen. Carole and Finn needed to have a talk, and he needed to have a talk with his boy.
"Hey," he said as he opened the refrigerator door. "How’s the planning coming?"
"Good," Kurt said. He had what looked to be the floor plan of the VA hall in front of him, along with an assortment of carefully arranged color-coded cutouts. "I think we’ve finally found a cost-effective centerpiece strategy."
". . . That’s great," Burt said, even though he didn’t really know what Kurt was talking about. "Listen, I need to ask you something."
"Okay . . ." Kurt looked wary.
"I know you’ve got a lot going on with school and glee and stuff, and I don’t want to put too much responsibility on you, because that stuff should come first, but . . ." Kurt looked at him expectantly. "Would you be my best man?"
Kurt gaped at him for a second. "Of course," he finally said, standing, and Burt could tell he was trying not to cry. "Of course I will."
"Good. I’m glad," Burt replied, and he squeezed his son tightly to his chest. He could feel the tears forming in his own eyes. "There’s no one in the world I’d rather have standing up there with me."
"Thank you," Kurt whispered.
"No," Burt replied. "Thank you."
* * *
"Sweetheart?" Carole asked.
"Yeah, Mom?" Finn said, looking away from the depressing score on the screen.
"Can I talk to you about something?"
Finn looked back toward the kitchen to see if Burt was coming back, but apparently he wasn’t. "Sure. What’s up?"
Carole walked over and sat on the arm of the couch. "I know this is going to sound weird, but . . . I would like you to be my honor attendant at the wedding."
"Your what?" Finn asked, confused.
"You know . . ." Carole searched for the right words. "My, um, my man of honor."
"Wait. You mean, like, your maid of honor? But as a dude?"
"I know it’s usually a girl’s job, but--" She was cut off by the sudden impact of Finn pulling her into a bear hug.
"Yeah, I’ll be your man of honor," he said.
"You’re sure? It won’t make you uncomfortable?"
Finn stood back and considered it. "Well, your maid of honor is supposed to be, like, your best friend, right?" Carole nodded. "And, I mean, I’m your son, so I figure I’m pretty important to you, and you’re my mom, so that means you’re my number one person . . ." Carole started to cry. It made Finn get a little sniffle-y, too. "So, yeah. I’m your man of honor."
"You are." Carole said, and this time she was the one to initiate the hug. "You really are."
"So he said yes?" a voice asked, and Finn and Carole jumped at the sound. Burt was standing at the doorway grinning at them, Kurt at his side.
"He sure did," Carole said, kissing Finn on the cheek.
"Mine did, too," Burt said, bumping shoulders with Kurt.
The four of them stood there smiling at each other stupidly until Kurt finally said, "As wonderfully cheesy as all of this has been, you two are getting married in two weeks, and we still have an enormous amount of stuff to plan." He glanced at the TV screen. "And halftime’s almost over. Carole?" He offered her his arm and escorted her back into the kitchen. Finn and Burt watched them leave and then looked at each other.
"Do you feel like it might have been dangerous pairing those two up?" Burt asked Finn.
"Definitely," Finn replied.
* * *
"Finn, I don’t care if you don’t know what to do. It’s one of the responsibilities of the maid of honor! And considering I’m doing most of the other stuff--"
"Wait," Puck stopped walking by to interrupt the conversation going on at Finn’s locker, "Hudson’s going to be the maid of honor?"
"Man of honor," Finn corrected, "and I’m sorry, Kurt, but I have no idea what to do for a freakin’ bachelorette party."
"Then go to the Internet! Ask Rachel! I have too much to do as it is, what with planning the whole wedding and having to throw my dad’s bachelor party on top of that."
"Well, what I was thinking," Finn said as he closed his locker and started walking down the hallway with Kurt, Puck following at an impolite distance, "was that we could maybe switch parties?"
Kurt stopped in his tracks. "This is going to be good," Puck smirked.
"And, why, exactly, do you think that that’s a good idea?" Kurt asked, a hand on his hip and good Lord did he remind Finn of Mercedes at that moment.
"Uh," Finn said, and he felt like he was walking into a trap, "because, like, I know a lot about guy stuff and you know a lot about girl stuff and--" Finn was cut off by Kurt scoffing and storming away.
"Jesus, dude, way to shove your foot into your mouth so hard your Converse are sitting in your stomach," Puck said.
"Why are you even in this conversation?" Finn bitched at him as he jogged to catch up with Kurt.
"Because I’m awesome." Puck jogged along side him. "And if I can’t cause my own destructive fun without landing back in juvie, I can get my kicks watching somebody else screw up for a change."
They finally caught up with Kurt.
"Look, I’m sorry for whatever was offensive about what I just said, but I didn’t mean it as something about being gay, or gender, or whatever." Kurt stopped walking and turned to face Finn.
"No, you never do, do you?" Kurt was winding up into rant, Finn could just tell. "You just--"
"What are you doing for his bachelor party?" Finn cut him off. Kurt looked taken aback.
"Wait, what?"
"If you’re so incredibly qualified to plan your dad’s bachelor party, then what are you doing for it?"
"I . . . haven’t gotten around to it yet." Kurt did his best to maintain his aura of haughty disdain, but it was difficult when his comeback was so ineffective.
"So, forget trading," Finn said. "Can’t we just . . . help each other out? I don’t know what to do for my mom, you don’t know what to do for your dad, maybe we could just brainstorm?"
Kurt sighed. "Fine. Bachelor party first."
"Strippers," Puck suggested with his best rock-star posturing, which included throwing devil’s horns and sticking his tongue out like Gene Simmons.
"NO!" Finn and Kurt shouted at him simultaneously.
"Uh . . . sports?" Kurt said lamely. "A . . . sports party? Where people watch whatever sport gets played this time of year?"
"No," Finn said, resisting the urge to rub the fact that he had been totally right in Kurt’s face. "He does that all the time. It should be something special, a type of fun he doesn’t get to have all the time."
"Exactly. Strippers," Puck said again. This time he was met by twin epic side-eyes.
"What about laser tag?" asked Finn.
"Finn, my dad was in a coma less than two months ago. He is not playing laser tag."
"Okay, good point." The two of them (and Puck) stood there for a minute, thinking.
"Karaoke," Puck finally said. Finn and Kurt looked at him.
"What did you just say?" Kurt asked.
"Karaoke. The bar in the bowling alley has it, and they let you rent out one of their birthday rooms and use their machine if you go on a night they don’t do it at the bar." Puck paused. "Not that I’ve ever done that. Or anything."
"That’s actually . . ." Finn started.
". . . not the worst idea I’ve ever heard," Kurt finished.
"Is your dad allowed to drink?" asked Finn.
"The doctor said it’s okay if he has a beer or two. But his garage buddies will drink more than enough to make up for it, I can assure you. And Randy always sings along with the radio, so I know at least one person will be singing."
"Four," Puck corrected him.
"What?"
"Well, you guys are going, right?"
"I guess," Finn said. "But that’s still only--"
"And then I’ll be there, so that’s four."
"What?" Kurt asked again.
"Yeah, so when’s this happening?"
"Saturday night . . ." Finn said, confused.
"What?" Kurt echoed Finn’s befuddlement.
"Awesome, I’ll set it up with Vinnie, the bar manager. Catch you guys later," Puck said as he left.
"Did Puck just invite himself to my dad’s bachelor party?" Kurt asked.
"I . . . I think so," Finn said. "Huh. Anyway, so what are we going to do about my mom’s bachelorette party?"
"Oh, I have no idea," Kurt replied.
"What?"
"There’s no one-size-fits-all answer to what girls like, Finn. I hang out with teenage girls, not moms. Plus I can’t be there on Sunday, anyway."
"Why not?"
"Coach Sylvester wants me to practice with the Cheerios that day."
"I thought you didn’t go out for the squad this year?"
Kurt shrugged. "All I know is, when Sue Sylvester asks you to do something, you do it."
"Fair enough."
"Anyway, just do, like, a brunch thing. And maybe movies? Your mother isn’t really a wild and crazy lady. Just get her together with her friends and she won’t care that much what she does. She’ll just appreciate the effort you put in." Kurt checked his phone. "Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have an appointment with the cake people to get to."
"Um, thanks? For you help?" Finn said as Kurt walked away. "I guess?"
* * *
"So, why is this Puckerman kid here again?" Burt leaned over and asked Kurt
"Honestly, I have no idea," Kurt replied. "But he booked the room for us, so it seemed like we would be being ungrateful if we kicked him out."
"Hmm. He’s a good singer."
"True."
"Although I’m not sure why anyone would sing ‘White Wedding’ at someone’s bachelor party."
"Puck can have a very . . . acute sense of irony sometimes."
"And why did he book the room for you?"
"I . . . have no idea. He volunteered, actually, which was weird."
"Hmm. Speaking of, is Blaine coming to the wedding?"
It took Kurt a few seconds to recover from the whiplash of subject change and figure out the connection his dad was making. "Nonononono," he said. "Puck is straight. Puck is the straightest straight guy to ever straight. He’s the one who got Quinn Fabray pregnant, Dad."
"Oh."
"Yeah. But, no, Blaine can’t make it. The Warblers do community service projects once a month, and next Saturday they’re singing at nursing homes around Columbus."
"Well, it’s nice to know he’s a civic-minded young man."
Kurt just looked at his father, unsure if he really wanted to have this conversation right now. Thankfully, Puck’s song ended, so they were obliged to clap for him and figure out who was singing next.
"I’ll go," Burt said, and Kurt was downright shocked. He couldn’t remember ever hearing his father sing. Which made it weird that he had picked karaoke for the bachelor party. But his dad enjoyed music a lot, so it had seemed like a decent idea. And Burt had definitely been having a good time listening to Kurt sing classic jazz, and Finn bust out Bon Jovi, and even Randy butchering his way through the entire AC/DC catalog. But now he was going to sing for himself. Kurt was very curious about how this would turn out.
Burt looked nervous on the makeshift stage. But soon the music started, and Burt began the spoken word intro.
"We’re so glad to see so many of you lovely people here tonight, and we would especially like to welcome all the representatives of the Illinois law enforcement community who have chosen to join us in the Palace Hotel Ballroom at this time. We certainly hope you all enjoy the show. And remember, people, that no matter who you are and what you do to live, thrive and survive, there're still some things that makes us all the same. You. Me. Them. Everybody. Everybody."
He started out a little awkward, but by the end of it, he was full-out in character. Kurt could not have been more surprised.
Or, at least, he didn’t think he could have. But then his dad started singing.
"Everybody. Needs somebody. Everybody. Needs somebody to love. Someone to love," he held the microphone out to Randy, who supplied the deep echo, "Someone to love."
"Kurt," Finn leaned over, "since when is your dad a Blues Brother?"
"I . . . I don’t know! I had no idea!" But his dad was good. His dad was really good. Kurt had always assumed he got his musical talent from his mother, but he was beginning to wonder about that now.
"People, when you do find that special somebody," Burt was pretending to be Elwood Blues again, "you gotta hold that man, hold that woman! Love him, please him, squeeze her, please her! Signify your feelings with every gentle caress, because it's so important to have that special somebody to hold, to kiss, to miss, to squeeze, and please!"
Kurt watched as his dad finished the song. After being congratulated by the rest of the party, Burt sat down next to his son.
"I didn’t know you could do that," Kurt said. "How come I didn’t know you could do that?"
"Oh, it wasn’t that good," Burt said.
Kurt turned to his father and gripped him on the shoulder. "Trust me, it was good. And you were enjoying yourself." His dad looked uncomfortable. "I’ve never even heard you sing before, much less put on a real performance. What happened?"
Burt sighed. "I’ve told you that I met your mom in JC, right? When I was getting certified as a mechanic, and she was slumming it in the interior design program to piss off her trust-fund parents?"
"Yeah," Kurt said, smiling at the thought of his mom’s rebellious stage.
"Well, that wasn’t the whole story." Kurt’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. "The way I met your mom was . . . the theater department was doing Grease. And they needed guys."
"No way."
"And there was this really cute chick playing Sandy, and I liked to sing along with the radio, so I decided to give it a shot."
"And you played Danny, met your Sandy, and fell in love," Kurt finished, looking off dreamily.
Burt chuckled. "Nope. Your mom played Rizzo."
"What?"
"Yeah. She had settled down by the time you were born, but she was quite the dame back then. And I was one of the other T-birds. I don’t even remember which one, now. Anyway, I got over cute Sandy, realized what a catch your mom was, and that’s how we got together."
"Okay, but I don’t get . . ."
"We’ve . . ." Burt looked down at his lap. "We’ve never really had the same taste in music, y’know? I mean, let’s face it, Grease is the only musical I can even tolerate. I remember once, when you were still a baby, I tried to sing you to sleep one night, to give your mom a rest. And you just wailed, and she had to come in and sing to you instead. You always liked your mom’s voice so much, I just figured . . . mine would bother you. It was just one more thing we wouldn’t have in common."
Kurt looked at his father. "You’re good. You’re really good, and I like more types of music than you realize. Dad, I love you, but sometimes you’re kind of an idiot."
"Yeah," Burt smiled, "I know."
* * *
Finn Hudson was in his kitchen having what he could only assume was a panic attack. His mom and all her friends (including Puck’s mom, which was just five kinds of weird) had come back to the Hudson household after brunch and were sitting in the living room, waiting for him to bring out mimosas. Burt had bought the champagne, told him how to make them, and given him a very long speech about the wrath that would be brought down on his head should he try to drink any of it himself. The problem was that, while he could remember in great detail all of the punishments he would receive for dipping into the champagne, he could not for the life of him remember what was in a mimosa.
There was a knock on the back door.
"Oh, thank god," Finn said as he answered. Rachel was standing in front of him with a cloth shopping bag full of something.
"Hi, honey," she said, standing on her tiptoes and waiting for Finn to lean down so she could kiss him on the cheek.
That being accomplished, Finn asked, "What’s in the bag?"
"Oh, I just thought I’d bring some oranges over. You know, as garnish for the mimosas?"
"ORANGE JUICE!" Finn exclaimed, louder than he’d meant to. "Sorry," he said at Rachel’s startled look. "I couldn’t remember what else was in there besides champagne."
Rachel looked at him. "You’re kind of a wreck today, aren’t you?"
"I don’t know how Puck does it. Moms are exhausting. And I just want everything to be right . . ."
Rachel gave Finn’s hand a squeeze. "Don’t worry. I’ll get started on the drinks, and you can go pop in a movie for them, all right? What did you get, anyway?"
Finn looked excited. "Oh! I got them the last James Bond movie! ‘Cause, y’know, it’s awesome and fun and . . . girls like Daniel Craig?" he finished, seeing the appalled look on Rachel’s face. Wordlessly, she reached into her bag and pulled out a stack of DVDs.
"Hold this," she said, thrusting the bag of oranges into Finn’s hands.
"What do you have?" he asked.
"A Gene Kelly movie marathon," Rachel replied. "I got inspired."
"Rach, I don’t think--" Finn started, but she was in the living room before he could stop her.
"Hello, everyone! I’m Finn’s girlfriend, Rachel, and I’m going to get you started on the day’s entertainment while Finn is preparing your drinks. So, who likes Gene Kelly?"
Finn prepared himself for the chorus of objections that he assumed would arise from such a question; instead, he heard oohs and ahhs, followed by a woman saying, "I just love watching Gene Kelly on TCM."
"Well, good!" Rachel said. "Because we’re going to start off with Singing in the Rain, segue into An American in Paris, and end the day with Brigadoon."
"Fantastic," Carole said. "Thank you so much for helping out, Rachel. You’re welcome to watch with us." Finn noticed that his mother spoke to Rachel with more warmth than she ever had Quinn.
"I will! Let me just go see how Finn is doing in the kitchen." She walked back in and smiled at Finn. "There is no woman on Earth who doesn’t want to spend an afternoon watching Gene Kelly."
"I love you," Finn said, wrapping his arms around Rachel.
"I love you, too," she said. "Now, let’s get these mimosas made. Where do you keep your champagne flutes?"
"Our what?"
* * *
It was finally the big day. Kurt was up and at the hall early, supervising the arrangements in both the room where the ceremony was going to be held and the reception room. It was about noon when he got back to his house. He sat in his car for a minute, calling each member of New Directions to make sure they were going to be on time for their performance at the wedding.
"Dammit, Hummel, my mom’s a bridesmaid! She woke me up at nine to go by some lame-ass make-up for her, I’m going to be at the hall on time," Puck grumbled when he answered the phone.
"Just checking," Kurt replied. "Can I ask you something?"
"No, I will not make out with you."
Kurt rolled his eyes. "No, something serious."
"Who’s not being serious?"
Kurt would have rolled his eyes again, but they hurt from how hard he had rolled them the first time. "Why’d you help out with my dad’s bachelor party?"
There was silence at the other end of the line. "Puck?" Kurt asked.
"Look, if you tell anybody this, I will personally light every one of your little scarves on fire, but I did it for Carole, all right? She and my mom, they practically tag-team raised me and Finn and . . . the dude that marries her? Has got to be one stand-up guy."
". . . You organized a bachelor party to make sure my dad was good enough for Carole Hudson?"
"Pretty much."
"Did he pass?"
Kurt could almost hear Puck’s smirk over the phone. "They’re getting married, aren’t they?" Before he could say anything, Puck continued. "See you, Hummel."
"Bye."
When Kurt walked into the house, the first thing he heard was his father pacing back and forth in the bedroom.
"Nervous?" Kurt asked as he stood in the doorway.
"No," Burt said. "Maybe. Yes."
"Come on, I’ll make you something to eat."
"I don’t think that’s the best idea, Kurt."
"You’ll have to wait until six, otherwise."
Burt thought about it for a second. "Maybe some toast?"
"Toast it is," Kurt said. "After that, I’ll change, and then I can teach you how to tie a bow tie."
"Can’t you just do it for me?" asked Burt.
"No. It’s a travesty that a man your age has never . . ." Kurt’s words were lost as he walked down the hallway toward the kitchen.
* * *
"Mom, you’re not supposed to be out here!" Finn said, but Carole just rolled her eyes at her son.
"What, because it’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her wedding dress before the wedding?"
"Well, yeah!" Finn said this like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"Sweetie," Carole said, "is Burt even here yet?"
"Well, no," Finn admitted. "Kurt’s still trying to teach him how to dress himself." They’d been keeping in constant contact through text, mostly because Kurt didn’t trust everything at the hall to be taken care of but also didn’t trust his father and his other groomsmen to get ready in a timely fashion, and he could only be in one place at a time. So Finn was taking care of all of the last minute stuff, with detailed instructions from Kurt, which Finn was kind of annoyed with but also secretly relieved about.
Carole laughed at his comment. "Of course he is." She looked into the ceremony room. "Everything looks lovely."
"Good," Finn said. A man came up behind him.
"Excuse me, sir?" the man asked. Finn jumped at being referred to as "sir." It’d been happening a lot today, and it was still kind of freaking him out. "They’re here with the cake?"
"Great!" he said. "They can bring it into the room across the way and put it on that red table near the front." He and his mother watched as two men carried in an extravagant three-tiered cake, bright red and made up of crazy architectural swirls. Everything else at the hall was very understated, classy, and elegant. Kurt had done a great job of adhering to Carole’s perimeters. The cake, though? The cake was all Kurt.
"Wow," Finn said as it went by. "That is very . . ." The word he was looking for was "ostentatious," but sadly that word was not in his vocabulary.
"Yeah," Carole agreed, "I get what you mean. Still, the place looks great, I’m not wearing a Lady Gaga-inspired wedding dress, and he came in three hundred dollars under budget. There could be sparklers and a dwarf tap-dancing on that cake, and I’d still call this a win."
Finn grinned at his mom. "As long as you’re happy, I’m happy."
"I’m happy, Finn. I’m very happy."
Finn’s phone buzzed in his pocket. "The glee kids are here. I’ve got to go give them directions on how to usher and stuff. Can you go back to the waiting room so I don’t have to worry about you being out here when Burt and Kurt get here?"
"All right, if it means that much to you." Carole gave her son a kiss on the cheek. "I’ll see you soon."
* * *
A half hour later, guests were starting to arrive. Finn had popped his head in to let her know that the groom and his attendants were here, and that Kurt had commandeered him to help take care of a lint roller crisis and did she need anything before he left? The other members of the bridal party (Edith Puckerman and Carole’s best friend from work, Rita) assured him that they could take care of any other crises that might emerge, and he left them to attend to Lintpocalypse 2010.
Carole’s mother stopped by a few minutes later.
"Oh, baby," she said, hugging her daughter. "You look beautiful."
"Thanks, Mom," Carole said. "Ready to walk me down the aisle?"
"It’s only fair that it’s my turn, this time. Still, I wish your father was here."
"Me, too. He would have loved Burt."
"I think so, too, sweetheart." Carole’s mother had met Burt the previous night at the rehearsal dinner. "I think so, too."
They looked at each other with teary smiles for a bit before Carole finally laughed and said, "Enough of this! It’s time for beautification," and handed her over to the hairstylist, Becca.
About fifteen minutes later, another group stopped at the door. It was Carole’s brother Joe and his family. His six-year-old daughter Elizabeth was going to be the flower girl.
"Hey, Joe!" Carole gave her brother a hug and greeted the rest of the family. "Elizabeth," she said when she got to the little girl, "are you sure you don’t want to get your hair done with the big girls?"
"Nope!" Elizabeth replied. She had insisted on wearing her hair in a braid for the ceremony, and Carole and Joe had quickly acquiesced with a "Kids? What’re you going to do." mentality. Joe patted his daughter on the head fondly.
"Carole?" he asked. "Can I talk to you about something for a second? In private?" He cast a glance at the bridesmaids and the hairstylist.
". . . Sure," she replied uncertainly. "Do you guys mind?" Everyone shook their heads and made their way out of the room, leaving only Joe, Carole, and their mother.
"Mom?" Joe asked.
"Joseph, I’m sixty-seven years old and I have rollers in my hair. I’m not moving for you or anybody."
Joe frowned. "Okay. I think you’ll agree with what I have to say, too."
Carole did not like the sound of that. "All right," she said, narrowing her eyes, "what’s all this about?"
"I like Burt," Joe began. "I really do. But," he lowered his voice, "his son, Carole."
Oh. So, that. That was what this was going to be about.
"What about his son, Joe?"
Joe looked at his sister. "You know what I’m talking about."
"No, I’m positive I don’t. What could you possibly be referring to?"
Joe sighed. "He’s gay, Carole."
"And?" Carole asked, her face defiant.
"He’s gay and I don’t like the idea of my nephew living with a f--" Carole clapped a hand over his mouth before he could finish speaking.
"That is my step-son you’re talking about, Joseph, and you had better treat him with respect," Carole said, her voice downright cold.
"Carole, you can’t be serious!"
"I am serious, Joe. Can you really be that ignorant? To judge someone for something they can’t control? That’s as inherent to their being as your brown eyes or Elizabeth’s blonde hair? I know that boy, Joe. And he is one of the smartest, bravest people I have ever met in my entire life, and he would do anything for family. That is absolutely the type of person I want my son to live with."
Joe looked astonished. "Mom!" he appealed to his mother.
She just shook her head. "He’s nice and polite, Joe. He was raised right, and I don’t give a damn who folks fancy as long as they were raised right."
"Finn can’t be okay with this," Joe said.
"Finn and Kurt were friends before I even met Burt," Carole replied, and if she was leaving out some bits of history that weren’t even relevant anymore for the sake of her argument, well, she was fine with that.
"I’ll talk to him, then. Make him see reason since someone in his life didn’t," Joe said, getting up in his sister’s face.
"I wouldn’t do that, Joe," she said, getting right back up in his. "Finn’s a loyal kid, and he’s as big as Christopher was now. And Chris always could kick your ass."
Joe backed down. "I can’t believe you’re choosing a stranger’s kid over your own flesh and blood."
Carole gestured at their mother. "Seriously? Because, as far as I can tell, you’re the only one who has an issue with it. So, really, I’m choosing the son of the man I love, a boy who I have grown to love, over a person spewing so much hate I don’t even recognize him any more."
Joe looked between his mother and his sister. "Fine. But when this all blows up in your face, don’t come crying to me." He turned to leave, but Carole grabbed his arm.
"Know that," she growled, "if you do one thing to disturb this wedding, I will give Finn full permission to punch you in the face. And I don’t think there’s a person here who will admit to having seen it to the police." She let go and let her brother storm out of the room.
"I’m sorry, sweetie," her mother said. "I don’t know where he got that mean streak from, but he’ll get over it."
"He’d better," Carole muttered. "Or I will get Kurt to sit next to him at every family function until he does."
* * *
Carole and her mother were still in the waiting room. They would be until the rest of the bridal party had processed forth. Right now, all of those people were in the lobby, waiting for the ceremony to begin. The flower girl was standing in the doorway, and behind her chatting were Burt’s groomsmen (his friends from the shop) and Carole’s bridesmaids. Kurt and Finn were standing a bit further back from the rest, leaning against the lobby wall.
"I am exhausted," Kurt said, resting his head on the wall behind him.
"Me, too," Finn agreed. "But it’s worth it, right? To see our parents happy together?"
"Yeah," Kurt smiled. "Definitely worth it."
Finn bit his lip. "But what about us?"
Kurt looked at him. "What do you mean?"
"You know what I mean. Things haven’t been right between us. Not since--" Finn faltered at the recollection of the basement. "But before that, even. Really, things have been weird between us since our parents got together."
Kurt awkwardly cleared his throat. "Some of that may have been my fault."
"Mine, too, but things should have gotten better by now, right? And they haven’t. And," Finn was surprised to hear his voice starting to get emotional, "that’s not what I want. We’re going to be step-brothers, dude. We need to fix this, but I don’t know how."
Kurt sighed. Finn’s earnestness often managed to be both endearing and exasperating. "I sincerely doubt that we’re going to fix this in the next," he checked his pocket watch, "five minutes."
"I know, but can we . . . start?"
"How?"
"I don’t know . . . just by being honest with each other? Talking about our feelings?"
Kurt stuck his hands in his pockets and looked at the floor. Finn thought he was going to protest but instead he asked, "Do you remember that week I dressed like a truck-driver reject?"
"Yeah, that was weird."
Kurt gave a mirthless chuckle. "It was because of you."
"What did--"
"And my dad and . . . how you’re both so alike. You have the same interests. What . . . what society says a normal guy should be interested in."
"Kurt, that’s--"
"Please, Finn. If you want me to talk about my feelings, you’re going to have to stop trying to interrupt."
"Sorry."
"I realize it was ridiculous, I sort of knew it at the time, but I just thought . . . if I could just be that guy, that normal guy, that I could . . . get my dad back. That I could have the type of relationship with him that you do."
Kurt looked up to keep the tears in his eyes from running down his face. Finn wanted to jump in, but he stopped himself.
"Because it’s so much easier for him to talk to you. But . . . I realized that I couldn’t change who I was. It was stupid to think I could."
There were tears in Finn’s own eyes at this point. "That’s not--" he started to say, but he stopped and let out his own humorless laugh, "--stupid." Kurt looked at him, and Finn saw the glint of recognition in his eyes. "At least, y’know, why you did it. God, how screwed up is it that talking was so much easier when I thought I was going to be a father?"
They both smiled sad smiles and shook their heads.
"That day," Finn finally said. "That day, you know which one." And he knew that Kurt did, but he needed to say it for himself, needed to recognize what he did in order to atone for it. "The day I called your stuff faggy." He winced at his own words; Kurt’s brow furrowed but the other boy said nothing. "It was about more than you. It was about mostly not you. I’d been getting crap about glee. The day I freaked at you for touching me? I’d gotten ambushed in the bathroom. Called bisexual. And I shouldn’t care, I shouldn’t give a damn. But you know me, Kurt. You know how much I care about what other people think. And right now, I care less than I did, but more than I should." He paused.
"I don’t get it, what you have to go through. I don’t understand; I don’t know if I could. But I’m trying. I’m not perfect, and I’m going to screw up. But I want to try, and I can’t figure it out if you don’t help me." He gave Kurt a pleading look. He wanted this to work.
Kurt looked back at him, and suddenly bust out laughing.
"I . . . what?" Finn asked, smiling despite the fact he had no idea what was going on.
"I . . ." Kurt started, but had to stop because he was still laughing. He had a few more false starts before he finally got it right. "You say that like I’ve never screwed up. Did Rachel ever tell you about the make-over?"
"What make-over?" Finn asked. That set Kurt giggling again.
"That horrifying streetwalker-cat-suit-bad-Sandy phase she went through before Sectionals last year?"
"Yeah?"
"That was me."
"What?"
"I had this insane notion that destroying Rachel," Kurt stopped to giggle, "would somehow get me closer to you, even though you were with Quinn at the time."
Finn looked at Kurt cracking up, and he started to laugh a little himself. "You . . . you. You were responsible for the sad-clown-hooker look?" At Finn’s name for it, both of them started to laugh harder.
"That’s what you thought of it?"
"Dude, I said it to her face." And they both dissolved into a fit of giggling loud enough that Edith Puckerman turned around and shushed them.
As they managed to get control of themselves again, Kurt wiped tears of laughter from his eyes. "I am sorry about that," he said.
"Rachel’s the one you should apologize to, not me." Finn took a few deep breaths to calm himself down. "I’m sorry we never consider your ideas for mash-ups."
"I’m sorry I’ve awkwardly sung pointedly chosen songs to you during rehearsal."
"I’m sorry I’ve done the same thing, only using somebody else’s pointedly chosen song."
"I’m sorry I freaked you out during the ballads assignment."
"I’m sorry that I let you."
"I’m sorry I convinced you to tell your girlfriend’s crazy religious parents that you had knocked her up. Through song."
"I’m sorry my relationship with your dad ever made you feel bad about yourself."
"I’m sorry I ever let it."
"I’m sorry I freaked out on you when your dad was in the damn hospital."
"I’m sorry I wasn’t thinking clearly enough to call you about it."
"I’m sorry I took out my dad-issues on you."
"I’m sorry I helped push our parents into living together."
"I’m sorry I verbally attacked you in your own home."
"I’m sorry I used you as my safe straight-boy crush and then pursued that crush to ridiculous lengths."
"I’m sorry that I’m not always sensitive to your feelings, like with the whole Sam-duet thing."
"I’m sorry that me being who I am sometimes puts you in awkward situations."
Finn grabbed Kurt’s arm. "Dude, you never have to be sorry about that, do you understand?" Kurt’s eyes welled up the slightest bit, but he just nodded.
"I think we’ve hit just about everything now?" he said.
"I’m sorry I was ever one of those people who bullied you," Finn said, unable to meet Kurt’s eyes. Neither of them spoke for a moment.
"Thank you," Kurt finally said in return. All of a sudden, the line in front of them started moving. The processional music had begun playing while they were talking, and they hadn’t even noticed.
"Oh, shit," Finn muttered as they both stood up straight and joined the rest of the group.
"You’ve got my dad’s ring?" Kurt asked. Finn checked his pants pocket.
"Yup. My mom’s?"
"Right here," Kurt said.
They stood and watched the first pair of the bridal party start to process.
Kurt smirked. "There’s one thing I’m not sorry about, though."
"What’s that?"
"Setting our parents up," he said, smiling at Finn, one of the first genuine smiles Kurt had directed his way in a long time. "Even if my reasons for it were crazy, I still think it was one of the smartest things I’ve ever done."
Finn smiled back. "No, I’m pretty okay with that one, too."
The pair in front of them began to walk down the aisle. Finn glanced at Kurt out of the side of his eye.
"Ready, brother?" he asked.
"Ready, brother," Kurt said.