FIC: "At the End of Each Day" (2/?)
Title: At the End of Each Day (2/?)
Fandom: Glee
Rating: PG-13
Pairings/Characters: Finn + Kurt, canonical pairings (Kurt/Blaine, Finn/Rachel, Finn/Quinn, Burt/Carole, brief Blaine/Rachel, etc.)
Disclaimer: Glee and its characters belong to Ryan Murphy Television and 20th Century Fox Television.
Spoilers: For this chapter, up until 2.10. Eventually, everything.
Thanks: To my beta, the lovely tekalynn. I don't know what I'd do without her.
Summary: At the end of each day, they go home and talk. Except for the days when they don't. My own spin on the "lady chats over warm milk".
A/N: I hate messing up with Real Life geography (I hate when Hollywood does it to my country's), but I feel Glee canon really made it inevitable. So for this story, please picture Lima and Westerville as two entirely fictional towns only a 50-minute drive apart from each other.
Previously: Chapter 1 - Of Parties and Betrayals
At the End of Each Day
by Morgan D.
Chapter 2 - Of Ornaments and Adjustments
1.
"Finn, what's... that... in the living room?"
Finn looked up from his laptop, cringing at Kurt's angry tone of voice. "Uh, couch? TV? Coffee table?"
"I mean that thing that isn't supposed to be in the living room."
"Did I leave my underwear upstairs?"
"Finn!"
"Relax, dude, it's clean. I just got it from the laundry room... and... I don't know why I left it there. Guess I got distracted."
"First, it doesn't matter if it's clean, you still should never leave your underwear lying around. Second, your underwear is right there on my vanity, where it's not supposed to be either."
"Oh, there it is. Thanks, Kurt."
"Third, I'm not talking about your underwear. I'm talking about something big, vaguely green and definitely ugly, which is more or less standing by the window."
"Dude, that's a Christmas tree. You're telling me you've never seen a Christmas tree before?"
"That is not a Christmas tree. That is a sad skeleton of a moribund pine with a few remaining leaves that some time long ago might have been green. No respectable seller would dare to offer that thing to a customer."
"It's not that bad! It just needs a few ornaments and some tinsel. And I didn't buy it, I found it on the side of the road on my way from school."
"Is that a thing with you? Some people bring home stray animals, you bring in stray trees?"
"Look, Kurt, I really don't know why you're giving me a hard time about it."
"We already have a Christmas tree, Finn. Actually, we have five. I rotate them every year. There's the tall frosted one, a small pre-lit one, then three colored ones: champagne gold, Brandeis blue, and cranberry copper. Supposedly, this is the year of the pre-lit one, but it's our first Christmas since our families merged, so I thought a small tree would not be appropriate. I'm leaning towards the cranberry copper one. It's my favorite."
Finn looked dismayed. "Wait. Those are all artificial."
"Well, yes! Like I'd want to have a tree dying in my living room, losing color day by day, shedding needles all over the place. Also, artificial trees are fire-retardant, a benefit I'm growing to appreciate more and more now that I see how clumsy you are around the house."
"FYI, I have never in my life set fire to a Christmas tree. Just ask my mom."
"That is indeed remarkable, Finn", said Kurt, deadpan. "Congratulations."
"But you're missing the point. They just smell so good! Especially the Douglas and the balsam. The Fraser is nice too. And the white fir kind of smells like citrus, you know?"
Kurt blinked. "You can name the different species?"
"Of course I can."
"You can't name five state capitals!"
"Well, no, but Christmas tree species actually matter."
"I see," said Kurt with a little smile.
"That's just how Christmas smells, okay? The tree, the ginger cookies, the mulled cider, the burnt turkey..." At Kurt's arched eyebrow, Finn added, "Mom always burns the tips of the wings."
Kurt folded his arms, twitching his lips as he seemed to look for a solution. "Okay, what about a compromise? We get a real tree, but I make sure the turkey isn't burnt."
Finn considered the offer for a moment. "Deal. The wings might be better to eat that way anyway."
"I'm making tea. Want some?"
"Uh..."
"Never mind."
2.
"Jauchzet, frohlocket."
Finn stopped in the middle of the stairs to the basement, listening to his stepbrother's voice.
"Auf, preiset die Tage," Kurt murmured. Then, louder, "Jauchzet. Frohlocket."
Finn tiptoed the rest of the way into the room. Kurt sat cross-legged on his bed, surrounded by music papers. After a moment, he raised his voice to sing:
"Jauchzet, frohlocket, auf, preiset die Tage.
Rühmet, was heute der Höchste getan!"
"Are you conjuring a demon?" Finn whispered, looking around as if expecting something to attack him.
"Finn, have you been watching Supernatural again?" asked Kurt without looking up.
"No...?" Finn's tone was far from convincing. "You're chanting in tongues."
"I'm singing in German, that's all."
"I didn't know you spoke German."
"One does not need to speak a language to sing in it. You just need to memorize the phonemes." Kurt finally raised his eyes from the music sheet, and his expression turned to sour as he finally saw his stepbrother standing in the middle of the room. "What exactly are you wearing?"
"What exactly are you singing?"
"The Warblers will be performing Bach's Christmas Oratorio, along with the Crawford Country Day's glee club and the Westerville Youth Orchestra. Apparently they do this every year, and it's a total non-issue for them, to the point that none of the Warblers remembered to mention it to me until this morning, when Blaine casually asked me if my family would be coming to the concert. So now I have two weeks to learn all this," said Kurt, waving the papers in his hands in frustration.
"Bach, uh? That is really old music, right? Like, before the fifties."
"Yes, Finn, definitely before that. Now, what is that thing you're wearing?"
"Oh, it's New Direction's Christmas costume. We went caroling class by class today. Well, one class. We got booed, and the teacher tossed a shoe at us, so we decided to regroup and rethink our strategy."
"Of course you were booed, dressed like that! What was Mercedes thinking?"
"Actually, it was Rachel who found us the cardigans. Mercedes only suggested the scarves."
"Ah. Now that makes much more sense."
"Has anyone bought milk?"
"Did you check the fridge?"
"Yeah, nothing."
"Then no."
Finn slumped into the oval chair with a disappointed pout.
"There's green tea..." Kurt suggested.
"No, thanks."
3.
"Are you in trouble with your dad?"
Kurt found Finn sitting on the lowest steps of the basement stairs, waiting for him. "No."
"Dude, I could hear him yelling from here."
"Just a little parental overreacting. Don't worry." Kurt placed his messenger bag on his desk and took off his Dalton jacket.
"Am I in trouble with your dad, then?"
"You? Why?"
"For telling Mr. Schue where to find you."
"Oh, so that was you? I wondered. I mean, the only reason why I was still at Dalton was because of the snow."
"Yeah, Burt told me and Mom that you had called to say you'd wait it out. And then Mr. Schue called me and asked how he could find you, and he sounded kind of desperate."
"Desperate enough to brave the roads when I wouldn't, clearly."
"I don't get why he just didn't call you."
"He did," said Kurt, carefully putting the jacket on a hanger. "But I was studying, and when I saw it was him, I let it go to voicemail. It didn't occur to me that it could be an emergency, not now that I'm not in the New Directions anymore." He moved out of Finn's sight, into the walk-in closet.
"What kind of emergency?" Finn called after him. "Like a fire or a flood?"
"The kind of emergency I actually can help with, Finn. Think about it."
"Oh. Fashion?"
"Christmas shopping. He's got Coach Sylvester in a secret Santa draw, and the gift delivery is scheduled for tomorrow."
Finn winced. "Ouch."
"I know. So I took him to North Hills Mall, and we got her a winter tracksuit."
"A tracksuit. Wow. I'm surprised you didn't go for something more... uh... more."
"I learned the hard way last year that you can't change Coach Sylvester. But that doesn't mean there's no room for improvement. I picked this gorgeous taupe tracksuit with dark gold trimmings and fur-lined hood which I'm sure will become her favorite."
Finn smiled. "Well, seems like you totally saved Mr. Schue's ass."
"He seemed to think so. He insisted on buying me dinner as thanks."
"Cool."
"Exactly! You don't see a problem with that, do you?"
"Uh, no. Unless you ate at one of those vegan places, because those are gross, I don't care what Rachel says."
"Well, maybe you could try to explain that to my dad. Not the part about the vegan food. I don't want you giving him more excuses to cheat on his diet. I mean the part about Mr. Schuester."
"Burt doesn't like Mr. Schue?"
Kurt came back to the room wearing powder blue sweatpants and his deep pink 'Sing Your Life' tee shirt. "I fear Dad's had a poor opinion of him since the Defying Gravity debacle. And maybe he thinks Mr. Schue should have done more about the Karofsky situation. I sort of agree with him on both accounts. But this time he was going on and on about..." He drew air quotes with his fingers. "...'the impropriety of a teacher taking a teenage former student out'."
"Wait. Burt thinks Mr. Schue... wants to get into your pants?"
Kurt grimaced. "Crudely put, but yes."
"Eww!!!" Finn exclaimed. Noticing Kurt's wary look, he amended, "Not because he's a guy and you're a guy... but because he's, you know, Mr. Schue!"
"I know. But Dad doesn't get that. And I might have made things worse by listing all the evidence I'm aware of that points to Mr. Schuester not being gay or into students. He feels I shouldn't know that many details about a teacher's love life." Kurt frowned. "He... might have a point there."
"It's just how it is," said Finn with a shrug. "Us in glee club, we live in each other's pockets. That includes Mr. Schue. Aren't the Warblers the same?"
Kurt considered the question for a moment. "I'm not sure. I mean, Blaine and I are, but... the others... they're friendly. A lot friendlier than New Directions, actually. But in a more dispassionate way? I don't know. Maybe I just haven't spent enough leisure time with them yet." He snorted. "And now, thanks to Dad, it'll be a while until I have the chance."
"What do you mean?"
"He's grounded me. Until the end of the year."
"Seriously?!"
"Yep. I'm supposed to come straight home every day after school. No coffees with Blaine, no trips to the mall with Mercedes, and definitely no meals with former teachers. All my Christmas shopping will have to be done online. I can rehearse and perform the Oratorio with the Warblers, but that's about it. Dad will be timing all my comings and goings."
"Man, that sucks."
"It does, doesn't it?" But Kurt said it with a little smile on his face as he fingered the cover of his European History book.
"You don't look very upset."
"Oh, I'll be upset tomorrow, when I'm forced to relinquish my social life to appease Dad's paranoia. But not tonight. Because I've had the most wonderful day, and I don't intend to let anything or anyone spoil it."
"Yeah? What happened?"
"Never you mind," said Kurt smugly.
"Oh, come on! My day kind of sucked, Rachel wanted to buy my forgiveness with a musical number and that really bugged me. Give me something good to think about."
"I don't know if you'll find it pleasing to hear."
"Try me."
Kurt twirled on the tips of his toes, then leaned back against his desk, smiling dreamily. "Blaine asked my help practicing a duet. He's got a gig singing in a theme park, and he asked me to rehearse with him. A classic duet, Baby, It's Cold Outside. So we did. Practice, I mean. Blaine and I."
Finn did not seem at all pleased by the news. In fact, he looked angry. "I see."
Seeing his reaction, Kurt folded his arms and his voice took on an icy tone. "Don't worry, it was just practice. We were alone in the common room, so there were no witnesses. I haven't, as you once put it, 'painted a bull's-eye on his back'. I haven't forever soiled Blaine's good name by singing a duet with him."
"Kurt..."
"Although, if the horrible thing you're so afraid of is that, oh my god, now everyone is going to think he's gay?" Kurt shrugged. "I'd say that ship has sailed long before I even transferred to Dalton."
"Listen, Kurt..."
"No, I'm done listening to that kind of crap, Finn. 'You can't have a guy as your study partner, Kurt, you'll ruin his reputation.' You don't know what a relief it is to know that that's something I'll never have to hear at Dalton."
Finn stood up, hands raised in surrender. "Kurt, please."
"No, forget it. It was a precious moment for me, and I won't let you ruin it."
"I'm not trying to... I'm just worried, okay?"
"About Blaine?!"
"About you!" Finn countered. "Baby, It's Cold Outside? The date rape song?"
"What?"
"Did he try something? Did he, like, grab you or give you something to drink? Are you feeling okay?"
Kurt stared at Finn in stupefaction. "Are you serious?"
"It's the date rape song!"
"You're decontextualizing the lyrics!"
"No, I'm not!" Finn's brow wrinkled in confusion. "Whatever that means."
"The composer wrote it for his wife. It's old-school romance, Finn, a game of flirting and playing hard-to-get. Whatever dirt you read into it, it's in your head!"
"It's in a lot of people's heads. Everybody knows it as the date rape song. So how can you tell what is in Blaine's head?"
"Well, for one thing, I know him, and you don't. Also, nothing happened! We just sang together. There was no drinking. He didn't actually try to keep me from leaving after we were done. There was no grabbing or any sort of unwanted advances. It was all very... charming and romantic in that sweet 1940's kind of way." Kurt's anger started to dissolve in smiles again.
Finn still looked wary. "You sure? What happened afterwards?"
Kurt beamed. "He said he liked singing with me better than with the girl he'll be singing with at the actual performance."
"And...?"
"And he left. And Mr. Schue came in. You know the rest of the story."
Finn shoved his hands in his pockets, a pensive look in his face. "So... I don't have to beat him up?"
"For singing a duet with me?!"
"For taking advantage of my little brother."
"I'm three months older than you, Finn."
"I didn't say 'my younger brother', I said 'my little brother'. I'm still bigger than you." Finn's gaze fell to the floor. "I know I was an ass before. But I promised to do better and have your back no matter what. That's... that's what I'm trying to do."
Kurt bit his lower lip and nodded, his eyes just a tiny bit glossy.
"So..." Finn gave him a mischievous half-smile. "Blaine, huh?"
Kurt wrung his hands, blushing. "We're just friends."
"But... he's gay."
"That doesn't mean..."
"No, it does, it totally does. Because you're super awesome, Kurt, and if he likes boys, he can't find any better."
"I... I'm..." Kurt's eyes were getting glossier by the second. "Tea. I'm going to... Do you...?"
"Warm milk?"
Kurt grinned. "Milk it is."
4.
"Come on, Kurt, you can't be upset about this."
But Kurt looked very much upset, glaring into the mirror as he went through his nightly skin care routine.
"All those presents are now going to homeless kids!" Finn insisted. "It's a good deed."
"While I'm very pleased to know that some poor child will not only be warm this winter but also in style, that tracksuit was the perfect gift for Ms. Sylvester." Kurt put down the small toner bottle with more force than necessary. "I guess, in a way, I thought of it as my Christmas gift to her as well. So, sorry if I don't like that Mr. Schuester decided to repossess it."
"If you ask me, I don't think Ms. Sylvester made it to Santa's nice list this year."
"No one's asked you," Kurt snapped.
Finn cringed and lay on his bed, propped up on one elbow, flipping the pages of a videogame magazine.
Eventually, Kurt was the one who broke the uneasy silent. "She did a lot for me when I was a Cheerio. I know she got me in the squad mostly to infuriate Mr. Schuester... but no matter what, she's all about winning, and she wouldn't have given me that big solo at Nationals last year if she didn't have the utmost confidence that I could bring her victory. That's something I know Mr. Schue has simply never felt about me. Then she expelled Karofsky when he threatened to kill me. She asked for nothing more than my word that it had actually happened. And when the school board reversed her decision, she resigned as principal because she thought she could protect me better that way. And when Dad... when he was in the hospital..." Kurt's voice faltered for a moment. "She was the only one, Finn. The only one who seemed to... to understand how I felt, and what I needed, and what I couldn't deal with." He took a deep breath and recomposed himself, adjusting the headband he used to keep his hair from falling on his face. "I know she messed up with the glee club countless times. She's not, strictly speaking, a nice person. That doesn't mean she doesn't deserve my gratitude and appreciation."
"I guess she does have a soft spot for you," Finn murmured. "Hey, maybe you could give her a Christmas present. One that's just from you."
"I'd like that. But that tracksuit really was the perfect present."
"Then give her one just like it. She'd probably love to rub Mr. Schue's nose in it too."
"I'm grounded, remember? And the store where I got it doesn't deliver outside Westerville. Maybe I can convince them to deliver it to Dalton..."
"Well, how about this? You call the store, ask about the tracksuit, tell them exactly which one it is, size, color, everything, and ask them to hold it for you. Then I'll go there, pick it up and bring it home. You make sure it's the right one, wrap it up in a super cool package, write a card, 'To Ms. Sylvester From Porcelain Santa'... then I'll deliver it the next day."
Kurt gazed at Finn through the mirror. "You'd really do that?"
Finn shrugged. "Sure."
"You just said you don't think she deserves any presents."
"I wouldn't be doing it for her. I'll do it for you." Finn winked. "Besides, that way I can check the North Hills Mall for new additions to the Christmas Village."
"To what?"
"Mom and I build this miniature village under the tree every year, and each year we make it bigger and bigger. It started when I was, like, five, with only an electric train and a Lego farm... then we just went on adding stuff. A Playmobil saloon and a barn, a little car wash full of crazy ramps, a couple of tepees, an igloo, this mushroom-shaped doll house Mom found in a yard sale, a music box that looks like a cottage that's a heirloom from my grandmother, a little house I had to build in 8th grade out of popsicle sticks... And of course, action figures, Hot Wheels cars, a gazillion Happy Meal toys and bobbleheads, a hula girl doll, a bunch of wooden animals... oh, and four dinosaurs. I usually have them attacking the train, you know?"
"Raging dinosaurs," said Kurt dryly. "How very... Christmassy."
"Dude, you totally get it!" Finn smiled happily, clearly missing his stepbrother's sarcasm. "Mom makes tiny trees with holly and pine twigs. So we have new trees every year. The rest we keep in five huge boxes in the basement, until it's time to start assembling the village." Finn frowned. "They're still there, actually, in my old house. I should bring them over."
"F-f-five boxes? Of miscellaneous toys and random junk?" Kurt turned on the bench to stare at Finn, horrified. "And you're planning to scatter it all in here. In my living room."
"There's more than enough space. We just need to move the furniture a little."
Kurt looked like he was about to faint.
"Hey, come on, it's fun! We'll find a way to add your Barbie dolls to it. They're big, so they could be amazons trying to fight the dinosaurs..."
"Who said I have Barbie dolls?"
Finn shrugged. "I just assumed. Because Barbies are all about clothes and shoes and stuff, and you like those things."
Kurt seemed unsure of whether he should be offended or not. "Well, I don't have any Barbies."
"Oh."
"I have two Kens. And Allan, from the 1991 Wedding Day collection."
"Ah."
"The female dolls in the Barbie line freaked me out with their horribly distorted bodies."
Finn laughed. "It's just boobs, man."
"Those aren't breasts, those are monstrosities! Fifty years worth of designers trying to make those forms appealing, and... yuck!"
"Man, I bet you have like a million Ken outfits..."
"Not really. I preferred to make them myself, but I was still learning the fine techniques of sewing, so it'd take me a long time to get the pieces just right. And then every year I'd donate the ones that had gone out of season to a pediatric hospital."
"Hey, do you have little jeans and little boots for them? And little hats? They could be like giant cowboys protecting the village from the dinosaurs."
"No. Absolutely not."
"You don't? Well, what about little sequin jackets? We could pretend they're aliens..."
"No, Finn."
Finn looked confused. "No jeans, no hats, no sequins... what kind of clothes did you make them?"
"I meant, no, you will not touch my Kens and Allan, Finn."
"Oh, come on..."
"I said no."
"Fine!" Finn huffed.
"We'll use my Power Rangers instead. Dinosaurs are their spirit animals after all."
Finn grinned.
5.
"Kurt?"
"Hmm?"
"Do you think Christmas is a special time?"
"As in a time of miracles, the day the savior of humankind was born, that kind of thing? You know I don't believe in any of that."
"So Christmas is just like any other day."
Kurt sipped his tea, keeping his gaze on a tired-looking Pavarotti. "I wouldn't go that far. It's still a holiday. People tend to behave differently during the holidays."
"How so?"
"Depends on the person, I guess. Mercedes, for example, feels this is the time to do some extra charity with her church, so God or not God, she's probably doing some good. Our neighbor, Mrs. Novick, on the other hand, just seems to believe that people should naturally become good-mannered and extra-nice between Thanksgiving and Christmas, and then if she witnesses any sort of minor disagreement, she starts crying and yelling loud enough that the whole block can hear her. My uncle Andy is very tight-fisted the whole year, and then on Christmas he gets everyone he knows expensive gifts. And any holiday is an excuse for Aunt Mildred to get drunker than usual." Kurt put his mug down on the desk. "So I guess it's not a good or bad day by itself, it's just what people make of them. And if you make a good day out of it, the people around you are more likely to be happy too."
"And for you? What is Christmas?"
"An excuse to redecorate the house and try new dishes," Kurt grinned. "And to spend time with Dad."
"Do you need excuses for any of that?"
"Not really. So maybe Christmas is like any other day. A little sadder though."
"Because your mom isn't here?" Finn murmured.
Kurt nodded, the lines of his jaw hardened in grief. After a moment, though, he took a long breath and made himself relax. "But now you and Carole are here. And this little guy," he cooed at Pavarotti. "So... ask me again on the 26th. Better yet, ask me after we've put your Christmas Village back in the boxes and cleaned up after the tree is gone."
"Shouldn't I ask you on Christmas day? When you're actually feeling it?"
"You could. But it's safer if you wait, just in case my response isn't as positive as you'd like."
"Oh."
"Well, cutie, it's time to go nighty-night," Kurt baby-talked to the little canary, closing the beige cover. "Sleep well, Pavarotti. Sweet dreams."
Finn leaned back against his bed's headboard, moving carefully not to spill his milk. "I'm just really, really confused right now."
"About the meaning of Christmas?"
"I don't know if I still believe in God or not. And I definitely don't believe in Santa. But I've always felt like this was a magical time. Just... because, you know? I could feel it in the air, from the moment we put the tree up and decorated it."
"And now it's different?"
"No, not really. I still feel that way. Even when I saw the mess in the choir room today, the tree destroyed, the ornaments broken, the presents gone, I still told myself, and the others, 'No, nothing should be able to ruin our Christmas spirit.'"
"A commendable effort," said Kurt.
"But then Rachel..."
"Uh-oh..."
"She said she doesn't care much about Christmas because she's Jewish... but since I care about Christmas, and since Christmas is the time of forgiveness, that I simply have to forgive her, and that it's just not fair if I don't."
"That's ingenious."
"So you think she's right?"
"Oh no, that's total bull. You can't demand forgiveness, it just doesn't work that way. But I suppose Rachel just isn't used to asking for things and waiting for them to happen organically."
"So you think I shouldn't forgive her."
"I can't tell you that. In fact, I'm not the one to ask about this. Forgiveness is not one of my strong topics."
"Now that's bull!" Finn protested. "You forgave me, you forgave Puck."
"But that's the thing, Puck never apologized to me for anything, and I never made a conscious decision to forgive him. One day I just realized that I thought of him as an ally, as a friend-despite-it-all, which meant that I must have forgiven him at some point. And it wasn't that much different with you, even if you did apologize. I was still angry for the longest time... and then I realized I wasn't anymore." Kurt shrugged, picking up his mug for another sip. "So I guess for me... forgiveness isn't something you do, it's something you feel."
"Well, I'm not feeling it," said Finn bitterly. "I'm not feeling it at all."
"She probably is genuinely sorry, though."
"Would you forgive her?"
"Me?!"
"Yeah. If it was Blaine.
"Blaine?!!!"
"If he was your boyfriend."
"He's not my boyfriend!"
"If he was. If Blaine cheated on you with... with me."
"With you." Kurt stared at Finn incredulously.
"Yes, me, because Blaine knew it'd hurt you more that way."
"Finn..."
"If Blaine was your boyfriend and cheated on you with me because he was angry for something you did while you weren't dating. Would you forgive him?"
"There are just too many 'if's there, Finn. I don't know what I'd do. I don't know how I'd feel."
Finn nodded and drank his milk, keeping the mug close to his chest.
"But if I were to make a wild guess," said Kurt tentatively, "it'd all depend on how much I... on the depth of my feelings for him."
"I love her," said Finn in a small voice.
"And also on my confidence that he would never purposely hurt me again."
Finn didn't reply to that.
6.
"Finn!"
"What?"
"Is it safe for me to come down?"
Finn frowned. "I'm dressed, if that's what you're asking."
"No, I mean, is there any mistletoe hanging from anywhere in the room?"
"Ah," Finn giggled. "No, all clear."
Still, Kurt made his way downstairs as cautiously as one would cross a minefield. But Finn had been right. There wasn't one single sprig of mistletoe in sight.
"So... Mom caught you, huh?" Finn pointed at the lipstick smears on Kurt's cheeks.
"Three times!" Kurt exclaimed, exasperated. "One kiss in the doorway just as I got in, another in the living room, the third in the kitchen. And Dad caught me once too, in the laundry room. I can't even remember the last time Dad's kissed me!"
"Yeah, Mom always has some mistletoe around in the house at Christmas time. Although I think she might have gone a little overboard this year."
"Okay, she and Dad are newly-weds, of course she wants as many excuses for sappy smooching with the new husband as possible."
"Gross," Finn growled.
"Maybe, but I get it. I just wasn't expecting to be part of the kissing fest."
"Why not? Didn't your mom..." Finn trailed off.
Kurt put his messenger bag on his bed and sat down beside it. "No. I remember her saying that mistletoe was for grown-up kisses. After she died, Dad never put it up again, so when I took over decorating the house, I never even considered using it either."
"Nah, for Mom, the mistletoe was always for me. I mean, she had a few boyfriends over the years, but none was ever around during holiday season." Finn grinned. "When I was little, we kind of turned it into a game, and I'd walk under the mistletoe on purpose, and she'd have to run after me to kiss me. And when I became too fast for her, she started hiding the mistletoe in places I'd never expect to catch me by surprise. It was a lot of fun, actually. But I had to make her promise not to do it when I had my friends over. Because, you know, not cool. Don't want them to think I'm a momma's boy."
Kurt smiled. "Of course not."
"And this year there's mistletoe everywhere. Maybe we can turn this into an obstacle race, you know? We see who manages to walk the longest in the house without being caught."
"And here I thought home was the place for rest, peace and quiet," Kurt sighed. "Speaking of peace and quiet, or the lack thereof, how are things going with the New Directions? Still no idea on who vandalized the choir room and stole the presents?"
"No. We were going to do the Gift of the Magi thing to buy school supplies for the McKinney-Vento kids..."
"Say that again?"
"You know," Finn shrugged. "The boys would sell their watches, the girls would sell their hair."
Kurt shuddered. "Well, that is one occasion Mr. Schue would have no trouble getting me to stay in the boys' group."
"Actually, Mr. Schue was the one who told us not to. Thank god. Because I really did not want to give away my watch."
"Finn, your watch looks like it's spent the last two decades spinning inside the tumble dryer. The seconds hand is stuck on six o'clock, it's a miracle the thing even works."
"It belonged to my dad."
Kurt squeezed his eyes shut and hid his face with his hands. "I'm an idiot."
"It's okay. You didn't know." Finn gave him one of his half-smiles. "Besides, I know you get it. With your mom's broken dresser and all."
"Yeah," Kurt mumbled. "I asked Dad to let me put it in my room when we move into the new house. He wants Carole to have her own things... and I guess so do I."
Finn nodded. "Yeah... I was planning to ask them to let me keep my dad's old recliner in my new room too. You probably think it's junk too..."
"Actually, it's in pretty good shape, given its age. There's some cracking and scratches, but nothing that can't be repaired."
"Really? Could you... would you help me with that?"
"Absolutely," said Kurt with a grin.
Finn raised his arm, his open palm turned towards Kurt. After a moment of perplexity, Kurt recognized the offer of a high-five, and slapped his stepbrother's hand with his own.
"Cool," said Finn.
"So... if Mr. Schue was against the selling of hair and watches... does he have any other ideas on how to raise the money you need?"
"We're going caroling again."
"Because that worked so well last time?" Kurt's voice dripped with sarcasm.
"No, this time we'll be singing for the teachers only."
"Wasn't a teacher who threw a shoe at you guys?"
"Well, yes. But she was surrounded by students who were yelling at us to drop dead, so... maybe it was just peer pressure, you know. And it won't happen in a room with teachers only."
Kurt opened his mouth to say something, then shook his head. "I was about to say that the notion of teachers succumbing to peer pressure from students is not only absurd but also not 'peer pressure' by its very definition... but it's McKinley. Stranger things happen there."
"Not at all like Dalton, huh?" said Finn a little bitterly.
"Dalton has its own flavor of weirdness, but yes, it is very different. I mean, the other students aren't nearly as excited about a Bach concert as they usually are about the Warblers performing Top 40, but Blaine says we'll have a full house for sure, even though tickets aren't exactly cheap. And the teachers are very supportive."
"It's like you go to school in a parallel universe or something," said Finn, shaking his head. "How come are things so different there? Is it just the non-bullying policy?"
"I don't know, really. I was talking with Blaine about that the other day... I said I wondered why Dalton even has a zero-tolerance harassment policy when there doesn't seem to be any hint of harassment in the school. Blaine said August and September are called the Sifting Months. That's when the freshmen and the students coming from other schools either learn Dalton's ways or are sent packing, right at their first offence. The upperclassmen won't befriend any bullies, for fear of being associated with them when they're caught. So... I guess with time it becomes ingrained, you see."
"Yeah," said Finn. Then, he frowned. "No, I don't. Ingrained how?"
"Well... take you, for example."
"Me?"
"Yes. Would you have started tossing other kids in the dumpster if instead of being impressed at your leadership skills all the other jocks pitied and avoided you? Would you have ever thrown eggs or pee balloons at anyone if that meant your upperclassmen labeling you the ultimate loser? If being mean to others actually meant that you'd have zero friends and zero followers?"
Finn looked away, seeming deep in thought. The room fell in a somewhat uncomfortable silence.
"I don't know if it's the non-bullying policy that makes the difference when it comes to the teachers, though," said Kurt eventually. "Maybe having students who feel secure at school makes them less afraid they'll riot or go on killing rampages, therefore less bitter about their jobs, maybe even content. Or maybe they just make more money than the average public school teacher," said Kurt with a shrug. "They sure have much better cars than Mr. Schuester."
"It's like you said last night. It's easier to be happy when the people around you are happy."
"Perhaps the teachers at McKinley only need to be reminded that life doesn't have to suck so badly. Yeah, some of their students do nothing but chip away at their hopes and dreams until all that's left is a never-ending nightmare of pain... but glee club is not about that. You're the good guys in a mission to do good to people who suffer more than they do."
Finn stared at Kurt with awe. "Whoa! That's really deep! I think I'm gonna use that in my speech."
"Your speech?"
"To introduce our performance. Rachel wanted to do it, but the others voted for me instead."
Kurt seemed a little wary. "While I'd probably have voted the same way... Finn, maybe you should let me write the speech for you."
"You? Why?"
"It'll still be your speech," Kurt assured him. "Your thoughts, my words. Your message, my syntax."
"You don't like my speeches?"
At Finn's hurt look, Kurt backpedaled quickly. "No, I love your speeches, I do! You always get your point across beautifully. Impressively." Then, after a beat, "Eventually."
Finn arched an eyebrow.
"It's just that... you tend to take some odd turns before getting there."
"Listen, I appreciate your concern, but... I can do it, okay? I'm the glee club's co-captain, so... that's my job."
"Fine. Just remember, you want those teachers to like you when you're done." Kurt sighed in resignation. "May I at least read it before you go to school tomorrow?"
"Oh, I'm not writing it. I'll just wing it."
"Oh dear..."
"I gotta, Kurt. That way people will know it comes from the heart." Finn stood up and stretched his long limbs. "Man, I hope dinner won't take long to be ready, I'm kinda hungry already."
Kurt's gaze turned to the top of the stairs for a moment, and he looked concerned. "Speaking of odd turns... we should discuss some sort of strategy."
"What for?"
"Escape routes and evasion maneuvers."
"What?"
"Well, say one of us inadvertently walks under a mistletoe, and the other one is the closest by," said Kurt really fast. "If it's just the two of us in the room, there's no problem, we can just ignore it. But say one of our parents is there to witness the fact. They might expect us to do something about it, and encourage us to do something, and that could get all kinds of awkward. But if we just ignore it, they might think we have a problem, and they might want to intervene, and that would only make things even more awkward. So we need to think of a way to..."
Finn interrupted the word flood by leaning down and kissing Kurt's forehead.
Kurt blinked, gaping at his brother.
"How's that for strategy?" asked Finn.
"Uh... yeah... I guess... I guess that works too."
"Cool!" Finn patted Kurt's shoulder and moved towards the stairs. "Listen, I'm gonna get my milk. Want me to bring you your green tea? I think I can make tea. Just boil the water with the teabags inside... Uh, where do you keep them?"
Kurt still stared at Finn with awe, and took a moment to recover. "I think I'd rather give your warm milk a try tonight."
Finn beamed. "Really?"
"I've been told it is delicious."
"Awesome!" Finn exclaimed, climbing the stairs two steps at a time.
7.
"Kurt! Kurt! You won't believe it!"
"SSSHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" Kurt ran to the bottom of the stairs, waving frantically at his brother. "Quiet!"
Chastised, Finn climbed down the rest of the steps on the tips of his toes. "Sorry. The bird is asleep already?"
"No, he's studying."
Finn blinked. "Studying? The bird needs to study too? Kurt, what kind of school are you going to?"
"Singing, Finn. He's studying singing." Kurt pointed at the cage. "And this is my own initiative."
Finn turned in the indicated direction and saw Kurt's boom box placed near Pavarotti's cage, softly playing birdsongs. "You are actually teaching your bird how to sing," Finn drawled in wonder.
"Yes! I read online that the molting period is an excellent time to play canary song recordings, because that's when they find it easier to learn new songs."
"You're kidding."
"I'm not." Kurt gazed at Pavarotti with excitement. "I wonder if he'll respond to whistling as well. I could teach him some songs from Wicked. Or maybe he and I could sing Two of Us by the Beatles as a duet. I'd sing all the lyrics, and he'd come in at the end to do John Lennon's whistling part."
"Or he could do the intro for Guns N' Roses' Patience," Finn suggested, clearly warming up to the idea. "Wait. A bird can't be an actual member of a glee club, right? I mean, you can't, like, use them at Regionals to compete. Because that'd be totally unfair."
"No, Finn, you can rest assured, that's not going to happen," said Kurt with a long-suffering sigh. "I checked. Show Choir Rule Book, page twenty-four, provision fourteen, third addendum. 'All members of the competing teams must be human, no exceptions.' Pity."
Still, Finn stared at Pavarotti with apprehension, as if measuring up the competition.
"Now come over here," said Kurt, pulling Finn to the opposite side of the bedroom, "and tell me what's got you so excited. Did the caroling go well?"
"Yes, it was a great, we raised over two hundred dollars."
"Impressive."
"Mr. Schue cut my speech before I could get to the good part, though."
"Oh, well." Kurt bit his lower lip to suppress a smile. "I'm sure you'll have other opportunities to dazzle people with your unique knack for words."
"Yeah, well, but that's not the really, really, really cool thing I was going to tell you about."
"Okay, so what is it?"
"I totally witnessed a Christmas miracle today."
"Ah, let me guess. No one in the glee club was slushied."
"Uh, no, I think Tina was."
"Rachel managed to say a full sentence without the words 'I', 'me', 'my', 'mine' or 'myself'?"
"No."
"It can't have been that miraculous, then."
"Artie walked."
Kurt stared at Finn as if he had suddenly grown three or four new heads. "I'm sorry, what?"
"He. Walked. Artie walked. For real."
"And... then he said, 'God bless us, every one'?"
"What? No, I'm serious."
"Artie walked. On his own." Kurt was obviously skeptical.
"Almost. He's got this awesome thing... Transformer legs!"
Kurt sat down on his bed, rubbing his temples. "Please tell me you're going to start making sense at some point."
"I'm making total sense!" Finn sat right beside his brother, with one leg folded on the bed so he could face him. "It's a machine from Israel, like a robot, but just the legs. Artie strapped himself to it, then he walked around in the choir room. Twice!"
"That's... that's amazing!"
"It so was, you have no idea! Artie said he can't use it all the time, but still... It was just so freaking awesome. Man, I wish you were there to see it."
Kurt gulped. "Yeah. Me too."
"And the weirdest part? No one knows where it came from."
"What do you mean?"
"It was left for him under the Christmas tree at Brittany's, but her dad swears he didn't do it, and Artie's parents said they didn't do it either. So..." Finn raised his hands, palms upward. "Nobody knows!"
"Well, it can't have just materialized out of thin air!"
"No, of course not. That's why the general sensus in the glee club is that it was Santa."
"Consensus, but never mind that. Santa, Finn? Seriously?"
"Hey, I may not believe in Santa, but Brittany does, and she asked Santa to make Artie walk."
"Right, I know, Mercedes told me about Mall Santa who spent way too long in a tanning salon and smelled like French fries."
"And it was her tree."
"So... what? Santa is real for those who believe in him?" Kurt shook his head in annoyance. "Okay, I think I just quoted the last sentence of some lame Christmas movie."
"No, dude, the point is, it doesn't matter. I mean, sure, there probably is some logical explanation for it. But why look for one? It's Christmas! Why ruin the magic by asking questions?"
"And since Brit wants to believe, she won't ask questions, therefore it's a Christmas miracle?"
"Yeah, why not?"
"And no one else's going to try to find out who it was? Not even Artie?"
"Why would he?"
"To thank them, obviously. It must have been a ridiculously expensive gift."
"If the person wanted Artie to know who they are, they'd have offered the gift in person, or at least left a card. They probably don't want Artie to feel elongated or something." Finn knitted his brows. "Although that machine kind of does elongate him. He was almost as tall as Brittany."
"I think the word you're looking for is 'obligated'. And I can't believe I'm saying this, but... you may have a point there."
"Yeah?" Finn seemed surprised at Kurt's concurrence.
"I told you, people act differently during the holidays. So maybe someone went crazy overboard with the do-a-good-deed thing. It happens. So... I'll do something unusual myself, and embrace the... miracle."
"Seriously?!" Finn couldn't contain his joy at that statement. "You really mean it?"
"Hell, why not? But let me be clear about this: I intend to go back to my good old skeptical atheist self by the morning of December 26th."
"I'm cool with that."
Kurt eyed Finn with amused fondness. "I'm almost afraid to ask. Are you planning on leaving milk and cookies for Santa on Christmas Eve?"
"Well, think of it this way. Chances are he'll walk away without leaving us any presents if we give him that awful green tea of yours."
Kurt decided this was as a good moment as ever to smother Finn's smirk with a pillow.
8.
"Well, hello, Finn Hudson."
"Hey, Kurt, where are you?"
"I just got home, checked on Pavarotti, and now I'm going to start on dinner."
"Forget dinner. Have our parents ask for takeout."
"Do you know how much sodium comes in takeout meals? Dad can't have that."
"Well, then tell him to wait until Mom gets home. There's a party tonight at Mr. Schue's."
"Wait, a party?"
"Yeah, I checked with Mom, she said it's okay."
"Carole said I could go?"
"Yeah!" There was a brief pause on the other end of the line. "Well, no. She said I could go. But you're my brother, right? So if I can go, you can go. It's only fair."
"Except that you're not grounded."
"...oh. Oh. I had forgotten about that."
"Yeah..."
"Well, can't you ask Burt? Is he home now?"
"Yeah, but I don't think that'd do me any good. He doesn't ground me often, but when he does, he's very stern about it."
"Hey, worst thing that can happen is he says no, right?"
Kurt sighed. "Fine, I'll ask him. I'll let you know how it goes."
"Good luck, bro!"
Kurt ended the call, took a deep breath, and made his way to the living room. He found Burt sitting on the couch, grumbling at something he was reading in the newspaper.
"Dad?" he said timidly.
"Hmmm."
"There's a party tonight..."
"No."
"But, Dad..."
"Sorry, kid. The answer is no."
"But Finn is going!"
"I know. Carole called me to say he'd be home late."
"And you think that's fair?"
"Finn is not grounded. You are."
"So I can't have dinner with Mr. Schuester in public, but Finn can go to a party at his house?!"
"With a bunch of other kids, plus Ms. Sylvester to chaperone, yes."
"Dad, you can't seriously think Mr. Schuester is a pedophile."
Burt dropped the newspaper on his lap and faced his son. "Even if there isn't anything... perverted going on with him... Kurt, the way he acts towards his students can be really... worrying."
"Why, because he acts like a friend?"
"Frankly, yes. He's a teacher, Kurt. He's not one of the gang. He can't be one of the gang and still retain a parent's trust. I need to be sure he'll be the responsible adult and pull the reins whenever you kids decide on doing something crazy."
"Who says one can't be friendly and be an adult at the same time?" Kurt argued.
"Thing is, Schuester's just proved he can't."
"Because he paid for my dinner as thanks for a favor?"
"Because he picked you up from school without consulting me, drove you for eight miles in a snowy night in that thing he calls a car... Come on, Kurt, every day for two years now I've seen him pass in front of the garage with that damn exhaust pipe dragging on the pavement shooting sparks everywhere."
"I told him we should have gone on the Navigator, but he thought it'd be safer if he was the one driving, and he didn't want to drive a car he was unfamiliar with."
"I don't know what kind of driver he is, but I know you. You're a safe driver, you drive a good car, and if you tell me it wasn't safe to drive, then I know it wasn't safe to drive. And there's no way you're going to convince me that Schuester, with that piece of junk of his, knows about cars and safety better than you do."
"The snow was starting to let up by then," Kurt mumbled.
Burt went on as if he hadn't been interrupted. "And did he even have a good reason to do it? Not in the slightest!"
"It was a shopping emergency, Dad!"
"Son, no shopping trip is worth putting your life at risk. You hear me?"
Kurt bit down his lower lip. "But, Dad..."
"No 'but's about this, Kurt. You're my kid, you mean the world to me. I don't want to lose you because some teacher, some former teacher of yours thinks it's okay to drag you out under bad weather to solve his personal problems, taking advantage of the fact that you can't say no to a trip to the mall."
"Still, you're mad at Mr. Schuester and taking it out me! I'm the one being punished here!"
"You are being punished because of your poor decisions. For agreeing to go with him. For not taking the Navigator. For not calling me to warn me of your plans. For not telling me where you were or who you were with even when I called you and asked if it was still snowing, if you wanted me to go and pick you up."
"I did tell you!"
"Right. You did. After I asked why I could hear female voices and the clink of china in the background."
"I wasn't going to lie to you about it."
"No, you were just going to keep me in the dark because, you know, what I don't know doesn't hurt me, right?" Burt said mockingly. "You think it wouldn't have hurt me if something had happened and I didn't even know where you were?"
"I'm seventeen, Dad!"
"And you usually behave like a mature boy who can be trusted to make wise decisions. Unfortunately, this was not one of those times, Kurt. And that's why you're grounded."
Kurt opened his mouth to argue, but nothing came out. With downcast eyes, he sat on the wooden arm of the couch, entwining his hands on his lap. "I never meant for you to worry about me."
Burt leaned back on the couch, mirroring his son's body language. "That can't be helped, you know. Comes with the territory. But I am asking you not to make it worse than it needs to be. No lies, no convenient omissions. And most important of all, no taking stupid risks. A true friend wouldn't ask that of you anyway."
Reluctantly, Kurt nodded.
"There'll be other parties, Kurt."
"I know. It's just... I miss my friends. And they are all there. And... I'm not."
Burt watched sadly as his son finally stopped twiddling his fingers and let his hands fall on his knees in sign of resignation. After a moment, he tapped Kurt's back gently with the folded newspaper. "Listen, your classes end next week, right? So why don't we have our own little party here? You and Finn can invite your friends from McKinley? If it's not too cold, we can even have a winter barbecue."
"Dad..." said Kurt warningly.
"Where I'll only eat brisket and grilled vegetables!" Burt rushed to add. "So what do you say? You're still grounded... but you can have your friends come over, if you promise to put some serious thought about what I've just told you. Deal?"
A tiny smile cut through Kurt's dejected expression, and the boy nodded. "Thanks, Dad."
Burt answered with a nod and a tight smile of his own. But as Kurt made to go back to the kitchen, he stopped him. "Son, you don't need to make dinner tonight."
"We are not ordering takeout," said Kurt adamantly.
"Well, what about one of those healthy dishes you keep making and freezing so I never have an excuse to order takeout when I'm all alone in the house?" asked Burt, amused. "We'll microwave some of those when Carole gets home."
"Why?"
"Well, Finn isn't here. You have your room all for yourself for a few hours, and that hasn't happened very often since the wedding, has it? And I love that kid, but I imagine he takes a lot of space..."
Kurt suppressed a grin. "That he does."
"So... go have some... 'me' time! Have your tea in peace, listen to your music, do all the crazy dancing you want. Or, I don't know, reorganize your closet, or whatever makes you relax."
Kurt arched an eyebrow. "You know, for most parents, punishment includes forced labor, in the form of house chores..."
Burt snorted and reopened the newspaper. "You're not being punished for being lazy, are you? In fact, me punishing you is usually a result of you going overboard with something. There's no point in lecturing you in doing more. What I want is for you to think before you act."
Kurt twitched his lips, chastened. "Fine. Guess I'll do a pumpkin-cranberry facial mask, and start thinking of palettes for the new house... and I should probably take the time to work on the Oratorio as well. It's really hard to do it when Finn is around laughing at my German."
He took his cell out as he went back to the kitchen, and texted his brother: No luck. Tell everyone I said hi.
Next, he fished his usual mug from the dishwasher, and from one of the cupboards he picked the little box of teabags. He juggled the box as he stared sadly at the mug...
...then put the box back, and took the milk carton out of the fridge instead.
###
Chapter 3 - Of Décor and Miscommunication
Fandom: Glee
Rating: PG-13
Pairings/Characters: Finn + Kurt, canonical pairings (Kurt/Blaine, Finn/Rachel, Finn/Quinn, Burt/Carole, brief Blaine/Rachel, etc.)
Disclaimer: Glee and its characters belong to Ryan Murphy Television and 20th Century Fox Television.
Spoilers: For this chapter, up until 2.10. Eventually, everything.
Thanks: To my beta, the lovely tekalynn. I don't know what I'd do without her.
Summary: At the end of each day, they go home and talk. Except for the days when they don't. My own spin on the "lady chats over warm milk".
A/N: I hate messing up with Real Life geography (I hate when Hollywood does it to my country's), but I feel Glee canon really made it inevitable. So for this story, please picture Lima and Westerville as two entirely fictional towns only a 50-minute drive apart from each other.
Previously: Chapter 1 - Of Parties and Betrayals
At the End of Each Day
by Morgan D.
Chapter 2 - Of Ornaments and Adjustments
1.
"Finn, what's... that... in the living room?"
Finn looked up from his laptop, cringing at Kurt's angry tone of voice. "Uh, couch? TV? Coffee table?"
"I mean that thing that isn't supposed to be in the living room."
"Did I leave my underwear upstairs?"
"Finn!"
"Relax, dude, it's clean. I just got it from the laundry room... and... I don't know why I left it there. Guess I got distracted."
"First, it doesn't matter if it's clean, you still should never leave your underwear lying around. Second, your underwear is right there on my vanity, where it's not supposed to be either."
"Oh, there it is. Thanks, Kurt."
"Third, I'm not talking about your underwear. I'm talking about something big, vaguely green and definitely ugly, which is more or less standing by the window."
"Dude, that's a Christmas tree. You're telling me you've never seen a Christmas tree before?"
"That is not a Christmas tree. That is a sad skeleton of a moribund pine with a few remaining leaves that some time long ago might have been green. No respectable seller would dare to offer that thing to a customer."
"It's not that bad! It just needs a few ornaments and some tinsel. And I didn't buy it, I found it on the side of the road on my way from school."
"Is that a thing with you? Some people bring home stray animals, you bring in stray trees?"
"Look, Kurt, I really don't know why you're giving me a hard time about it."
"We already have a Christmas tree, Finn. Actually, we have five. I rotate them every year. There's the tall frosted one, a small pre-lit one, then three colored ones: champagne gold, Brandeis blue, and cranberry copper. Supposedly, this is the year of the pre-lit one, but it's our first Christmas since our families merged, so I thought a small tree would not be appropriate. I'm leaning towards the cranberry copper one. It's my favorite."
Finn looked dismayed. "Wait. Those are all artificial."
"Well, yes! Like I'd want to have a tree dying in my living room, losing color day by day, shedding needles all over the place. Also, artificial trees are fire-retardant, a benefit I'm growing to appreciate more and more now that I see how clumsy you are around the house."
"FYI, I have never in my life set fire to a Christmas tree. Just ask my mom."
"That is indeed remarkable, Finn", said Kurt, deadpan. "Congratulations."
"But you're missing the point. They just smell so good! Especially the Douglas and the balsam. The Fraser is nice too. And the white fir kind of smells like citrus, you know?"
Kurt blinked. "You can name the different species?"
"Of course I can."
"You can't name five state capitals!"
"Well, no, but Christmas tree species actually matter."
"I see," said Kurt with a little smile.
"That's just how Christmas smells, okay? The tree, the ginger cookies, the mulled cider, the burnt turkey..." At Kurt's arched eyebrow, Finn added, "Mom always burns the tips of the wings."
Kurt folded his arms, twitching his lips as he seemed to look for a solution. "Okay, what about a compromise? We get a real tree, but I make sure the turkey isn't burnt."
Finn considered the offer for a moment. "Deal. The wings might be better to eat that way anyway."
"I'm making tea. Want some?"
"Uh..."
"Never mind."
2.
"Jauchzet, frohlocket."
Finn stopped in the middle of the stairs to the basement, listening to his stepbrother's voice.
"Auf, preiset die Tage," Kurt murmured. Then, louder, "Jauchzet. Frohlocket."
Finn tiptoed the rest of the way into the room. Kurt sat cross-legged on his bed, surrounded by music papers. After a moment, he raised his voice to sing:
"Jauchzet, frohlocket, auf, preiset die Tage.
Rühmet, was heute der Höchste getan!"
"Are you conjuring a demon?" Finn whispered, looking around as if expecting something to attack him.
"Finn, have you been watching Supernatural again?" asked Kurt without looking up.
"No...?" Finn's tone was far from convincing. "You're chanting in tongues."
"I'm singing in German, that's all."
"I didn't know you spoke German."
"One does not need to speak a language to sing in it. You just need to memorize the phonemes." Kurt finally raised his eyes from the music sheet, and his expression turned to sour as he finally saw his stepbrother standing in the middle of the room. "What exactly are you wearing?"
"What exactly are you singing?"
"The Warblers will be performing Bach's Christmas Oratorio, along with the Crawford Country Day's glee club and the Westerville Youth Orchestra. Apparently they do this every year, and it's a total non-issue for them, to the point that none of the Warblers remembered to mention it to me until this morning, when Blaine casually asked me if my family would be coming to the concert. So now I have two weeks to learn all this," said Kurt, waving the papers in his hands in frustration.
"Bach, uh? That is really old music, right? Like, before the fifties."
"Yes, Finn, definitely before that. Now, what is that thing you're wearing?"
"Oh, it's New Direction's Christmas costume. We went caroling class by class today. Well, one class. We got booed, and the teacher tossed a shoe at us, so we decided to regroup and rethink our strategy."
"Of course you were booed, dressed like that! What was Mercedes thinking?"
"Actually, it was Rachel who found us the cardigans. Mercedes only suggested the scarves."
"Ah. Now that makes much more sense."
"Has anyone bought milk?"
"Did you check the fridge?"
"Yeah, nothing."
"Then no."
Finn slumped into the oval chair with a disappointed pout.
"There's green tea..." Kurt suggested.
"No, thanks."
3.
"Are you in trouble with your dad?"
Kurt found Finn sitting on the lowest steps of the basement stairs, waiting for him. "No."
"Dude, I could hear him yelling from here."
"Just a little parental overreacting. Don't worry." Kurt placed his messenger bag on his desk and took off his Dalton jacket.
"Am I in trouble with your dad, then?"
"You? Why?"
"For telling Mr. Schue where to find you."
"Oh, so that was you? I wondered. I mean, the only reason why I was still at Dalton was because of the snow."
"Yeah, Burt told me and Mom that you had called to say you'd wait it out. And then Mr. Schue called me and asked how he could find you, and he sounded kind of desperate."
"Desperate enough to brave the roads when I wouldn't, clearly."
"I don't get why he just didn't call you."
"He did," said Kurt, carefully putting the jacket on a hanger. "But I was studying, and when I saw it was him, I let it go to voicemail. It didn't occur to me that it could be an emergency, not now that I'm not in the New Directions anymore." He moved out of Finn's sight, into the walk-in closet.
"What kind of emergency?" Finn called after him. "Like a fire or a flood?"
"The kind of emergency I actually can help with, Finn. Think about it."
"Oh. Fashion?"
"Christmas shopping. He's got Coach Sylvester in a secret Santa draw, and the gift delivery is scheduled for tomorrow."
Finn winced. "Ouch."
"I know. So I took him to North Hills Mall, and we got her a winter tracksuit."
"A tracksuit. Wow. I'm surprised you didn't go for something more... uh... more."
"I learned the hard way last year that you can't change Coach Sylvester. But that doesn't mean there's no room for improvement. I picked this gorgeous taupe tracksuit with dark gold trimmings and fur-lined hood which I'm sure will become her favorite."
Finn smiled. "Well, seems like you totally saved Mr. Schue's ass."
"He seemed to think so. He insisted on buying me dinner as thanks."
"Cool."
"Exactly! You don't see a problem with that, do you?"
"Uh, no. Unless you ate at one of those vegan places, because those are gross, I don't care what Rachel says."
"Well, maybe you could try to explain that to my dad. Not the part about the vegan food. I don't want you giving him more excuses to cheat on his diet. I mean the part about Mr. Schuester."
"Burt doesn't like Mr. Schue?"
Kurt came back to the room wearing powder blue sweatpants and his deep pink 'Sing Your Life' tee shirt. "I fear Dad's had a poor opinion of him since the Defying Gravity debacle. And maybe he thinks Mr. Schue should have done more about the Karofsky situation. I sort of agree with him on both accounts. But this time he was going on and on about..." He drew air quotes with his fingers. "...'the impropriety of a teacher taking a teenage former student out'."
"Wait. Burt thinks Mr. Schue... wants to get into your pants?"
Kurt grimaced. "Crudely put, but yes."
"Eww!!!" Finn exclaimed. Noticing Kurt's wary look, he amended, "Not because he's a guy and you're a guy... but because he's, you know, Mr. Schue!"
"I know. But Dad doesn't get that. And I might have made things worse by listing all the evidence I'm aware of that points to Mr. Schuester not being gay or into students. He feels I shouldn't know that many details about a teacher's love life." Kurt frowned. "He... might have a point there."
"It's just how it is," said Finn with a shrug. "Us in glee club, we live in each other's pockets. That includes Mr. Schue. Aren't the Warblers the same?"
Kurt considered the question for a moment. "I'm not sure. I mean, Blaine and I are, but... the others... they're friendly. A lot friendlier than New Directions, actually. But in a more dispassionate way? I don't know. Maybe I just haven't spent enough leisure time with them yet." He snorted. "And now, thanks to Dad, it'll be a while until I have the chance."
"What do you mean?"
"He's grounded me. Until the end of the year."
"Seriously?!"
"Yep. I'm supposed to come straight home every day after school. No coffees with Blaine, no trips to the mall with Mercedes, and definitely no meals with former teachers. All my Christmas shopping will have to be done online. I can rehearse and perform the Oratorio with the Warblers, but that's about it. Dad will be timing all my comings and goings."
"Man, that sucks."
"It does, doesn't it?" But Kurt said it with a little smile on his face as he fingered the cover of his European History book.
"You don't look very upset."
"Oh, I'll be upset tomorrow, when I'm forced to relinquish my social life to appease Dad's paranoia. But not tonight. Because I've had the most wonderful day, and I don't intend to let anything or anyone spoil it."
"Yeah? What happened?"
"Never you mind," said Kurt smugly.
"Oh, come on! My day kind of sucked, Rachel wanted to buy my forgiveness with a musical number and that really bugged me. Give me something good to think about."
"I don't know if you'll find it pleasing to hear."
"Try me."
Kurt twirled on the tips of his toes, then leaned back against his desk, smiling dreamily. "Blaine asked my help practicing a duet. He's got a gig singing in a theme park, and he asked me to rehearse with him. A classic duet, Baby, It's Cold Outside. So we did. Practice, I mean. Blaine and I."
Finn did not seem at all pleased by the news. In fact, he looked angry. "I see."
Seeing his reaction, Kurt folded his arms and his voice took on an icy tone. "Don't worry, it was just practice. We were alone in the common room, so there were no witnesses. I haven't, as you once put it, 'painted a bull's-eye on his back'. I haven't forever soiled Blaine's good name by singing a duet with him."
"Kurt..."
"Although, if the horrible thing you're so afraid of is that, oh my god, now everyone is going to think he's gay?" Kurt shrugged. "I'd say that ship has sailed long before I even transferred to Dalton."
"Listen, Kurt..."
"No, I'm done listening to that kind of crap, Finn. 'You can't have a guy as your study partner, Kurt, you'll ruin his reputation.' You don't know what a relief it is to know that that's something I'll never have to hear at Dalton."
Finn stood up, hands raised in surrender. "Kurt, please."
"No, forget it. It was a precious moment for me, and I won't let you ruin it."
"I'm not trying to... I'm just worried, okay?"
"About Blaine?!"
"About you!" Finn countered. "Baby, It's Cold Outside? The date rape song?"
"What?"
"Did he try something? Did he, like, grab you or give you something to drink? Are you feeling okay?"
Kurt stared at Finn in stupefaction. "Are you serious?"
"It's the date rape song!"
"You're decontextualizing the lyrics!"
"No, I'm not!" Finn's brow wrinkled in confusion. "Whatever that means."
"The composer wrote it for his wife. It's old-school romance, Finn, a game of flirting and playing hard-to-get. Whatever dirt you read into it, it's in your head!"
"It's in a lot of people's heads. Everybody knows it as the date rape song. So how can you tell what is in Blaine's head?"
"Well, for one thing, I know him, and you don't. Also, nothing happened! We just sang together. There was no drinking. He didn't actually try to keep me from leaving after we were done. There was no grabbing or any sort of unwanted advances. It was all very... charming and romantic in that sweet 1940's kind of way." Kurt's anger started to dissolve in smiles again.
Finn still looked wary. "You sure? What happened afterwards?"
Kurt beamed. "He said he liked singing with me better than with the girl he'll be singing with at the actual performance."
"And...?"
"And he left. And Mr. Schue came in. You know the rest of the story."
Finn shoved his hands in his pockets, a pensive look in his face. "So... I don't have to beat him up?"
"For singing a duet with me?!"
"For taking advantage of my little brother."
"I'm three months older than you, Finn."
"I didn't say 'my younger brother', I said 'my little brother'. I'm still bigger than you." Finn's gaze fell to the floor. "I know I was an ass before. But I promised to do better and have your back no matter what. That's... that's what I'm trying to do."
Kurt bit his lower lip and nodded, his eyes just a tiny bit glossy.
"So..." Finn gave him a mischievous half-smile. "Blaine, huh?"
Kurt wrung his hands, blushing. "We're just friends."
"But... he's gay."
"That doesn't mean..."
"No, it does, it totally does. Because you're super awesome, Kurt, and if he likes boys, he can't find any better."
"I... I'm..." Kurt's eyes were getting glossier by the second. "Tea. I'm going to... Do you...?"
"Warm milk?"
Kurt grinned. "Milk it is."
4.
"Come on, Kurt, you can't be upset about this."
But Kurt looked very much upset, glaring into the mirror as he went through his nightly skin care routine.
"All those presents are now going to homeless kids!" Finn insisted. "It's a good deed."
"While I'm very pleased to know that some poor child will not only be warm this winter but also in style, that tracksuit was the perfect gift for Ms. Sylvester." Kurt put down the small toner bottle with more force than necessary. "I guess, in a way, I thought of it as my Christmas gift to her as well. So, sorry if I don't like that Mr. Schuester decided to repossess it."
"If you ask me, I don't think Ms. Sylvester made it to Santa's nice list this year."
"No one's asked you," Kurt snapped.
Finn cringed and lay on his bed, propped up on one elbow, flipping the pages of a videogame magazine.
Eventually, Kurt was the one who broke the uneasy silent. "She did a lot for me when I was a Cheerio. I know she got me in the squad mostly to infuriate Mr. Schuester... but no matter what, she's all about winning, and she wouldn't have given me that big solo at Nationals last year if she didn't have the utmost confidence that I could bring her victory. That's something I know Mr. Schue has simply never felt about me. Then she expelled Karofsky when he threatened to kill me. She asked for nothing more than my word that it had actually happened. And when the school board reversed her decision, she resigned as principal because she thought she could protect me better that way. And when Dad... when he was in the hospital..." Kurt's voice faltered for a moment. "She was the only one, Finn. The only one who seemed to... to understand how I felt, and what I needed, and what I couldn't deal with." He took a deep breath and recomposed himself, adjusting the headband he used to keep his hair from falling on his face. "I know she messed up with the glee club countless times. She's not, strictly speaking, a nice person. That doesn't mean she doesn't deserve my gratitude and appreciation."
"I guess she does have a soft spot for you," Finn murmured. "Hey, maybe you could give her a Christmas present. One that's just from you."
"I'd like that. But that tracksuit really was the perfect present."
"Then give her one just like it. She'd probably love to rub Mr. Schue's nose in it too."
"I'm grounded, remember? And the store where I got it doesn't deliver outside Westerville. Maybe I can convince them to deliver it to Dalton..."
"Well, how about this? You call the store, ask about the tracksuit, tell them exactly which one it is, size, color, everything, and ask them to hold it for you. Then I'll go there, pick it up and bring it home. You make sure it's the right one, wrap it up in a super cool package, write a card, 'To Ms. Sylvester From Porcelain Santa'... then I'll deliver it the next day."
Kurt gazed at Finn through the mirror. "You'd really do that?"
Finn shrugged. "Sure."
"You just said you don't think she deserves any presents."
"I wouldn't be doing it for her. I'll do it for you." Finn winked. "Besides, that way I can check the North Hills Mall for new additions to the Christmas Village."
"To what?"
"Mom and I build this miniature village under the tree every year, and each year we make it bigger and bigger. It started when I was, like, five, with only an electric train and a Lego farm... then we just went on adding stuff. A Playmobil saloon and a barn, a little car wash full of crazy ramps, a couple of tepees, an igloo, this mushroom-shaped doll house Mom found in a yard sale, a music box that looks like a cottage that's a heirloom from my grandmother, a little house I had to build in 8th grade out of popsicle sticks... And of course, action figures, Hot Wheels cars, a gazillion Happy Meal toys and bobbleheads, a hula girl doll, a bunch of wooden animals... oh, and four dinosaurs. I usually have them attacking the train, you know?"
"Raging dinosaurs," said Kurt dryly. "How very... Christmassy."
"Dude, you totally get it!" Finn smiled happily, clearly missing his stepbrother's sarcasm. "Mom makes tiny trees with holly and pine twigs. So we have new trees every year. The rest we keep in five huge boxes in the basement, until it's time to start assembling the village." Finn frowned. "They're still there, actually, in my old house. I should bring them over."
"F-f-five boxes? Of miscellaneous toys and random junk?" Kurt turned on the bench to stare at Finn, horrified. "And you're planning to scatter it all in here. In my living room."
"There's more than enough space. We just need to move the furniture a little."
Kurt looked like he was about to faint.
"Hey, come on, it's fun! We'll find a way to add your Barbie dolls to it. They're big, so they could be amazons trying to fight the dinosaurs..."
"Who said I have Barbie dolls?"
Finn shrugged. "I just assumed. Because Barbies are all about clothes and shoes and stuff, and you like those things."
Kurt seemed unsure of whether he should be offended or not. "Well, I don't have any Barbies."
"Oh."
"I have two Kens. And Allan, from the 1991 Wedding Day collection."
"Ah."
"The female dolls in the Barbie line freaked me out with their horribly distorted bodies."
Finn laughed. "It's just boobs, man."
"Those aren't breasts, those are monstrosities! Fifty years worth of designers trying to make those forms appealing, and... yuck!"
"Man, I bet you have like a million Ken outfits..."
"Not really. I preferred to make them myself, but I was still learning the fine techniques of sewing, so it'd take me a long time to get the pieces just right. And then every year I'd donate the ones that had gone out of season to a pediatric hospital."
"Hey, do you have little jeans and little boots for them? And little hats? They could be like giant cowboys protecting the village from the dinosaurs."
"No. Absolutely not."
"You don't? Well, what about little sequin jackets? We could pretend they're aliens..."
"No, Finn."
Finn looked confused. "No jeans, no hats, no sequins... what kind of clothes did you make them?"
"I meant, no, you will not touch my Kens and Allan, Finn."
"Oh, come on..."
"I said no."
"Fine!" Finn huffed.
"We'll use my Power Rangers instead. Dinosaurs are their spirit animals after all."
Finn grinned.
5.
"Kurt?"
"Hmm?"
"Do you think Christmas is a special time?"
"As in a time of miracles, the day the savior of humankind was born, that kind of thing? You know I don't believe in any of that."
"So Christmas is just like any other day."
Kurt sipped his tea, keeping his gaze on a tired-looking Pavarotti. "I wouldn't go that far. It's still a holiday. People tend to behave differently during the holidays."
"How so?"
"Depends on the person, I guess. Mercedes, for example, feels this is the time to do some extra charity with her church, so God or not God, she's probably doing some good. Our neighbor, Mrs. Novick, on the other hand, just seems to believe that people should naturally become good-mannered and extra-nice between Thanksgiving and Christmas, and then if she witnesses any sort of minor disagreement, she starts crying and yelling loud enough that the whole block can hear her. My uncle Andy is very tight-fisted the whole year, and then on Christmas he gets everyone he knows expensive gifts. And any holiday is an excuse for Aunt Mildred to get drunker than usual." Kurt put his mug down on the desk. "So I guess it's not a good or bad day by itself, it's just what people make of them. And if you make a good day out of it, the people around you are more likely to be happy too."
"And for you? What is Christmas?"
"An excuse to redecorate the house and try new dishes," Kurt grinned. "And to spend time with Dad."
"Do you need excuses for any of that?"
"Not really. So maybe Christmas is like any other day. A little sadder though."
"Because your mom isn't here?" Finn murmured.
Kurt nodded, the lines of his jaw hardened in grief. After a moment, though, he took a long breath and made himself relax. "But now you and Carole are here. And this little guy," he cooed at Pavarotti. "So... ask me again on the 26th. Better yet, ask me after we've put your Christmas Village back in the boxes and cleaned up after the tree is gone."
"Shouldn't I ask you on Christmas day? When you're actually feeling it?"
"You could. But it's safer if you wait, just in case my response isn't as positive as you'd like."
"Oh."
"Well, cutie, it's time to go nighty-night," Kurt baby-talked to the little canary, closing the beige cover. "Sleep well, Pavarotti. Sweet dreams."
Finn leaned back against his bed's headboard, moving carefully not to spill his milk. "I'm just really, really confused right now."
"About the meaning of Christmas?"
"I don't know if I still believe in God or not. And I definitely don't believe in Santa. But I've always felt like this was a magical time. Just... because, you know? I could feel it in the air, from the moment we put the tree up and decorated it."
"And now it's different?"
"No, not really. I still feel that way. Even when I saw the mess in the choir room today, the tree destroyed, the ornaments broken, the presents gone, I still told myself, and the others, 'No, nothing should be able to ruin our Christmas spirit.'"
"A commendable effort," said Kurt.
"But then Rachel..."
"Uh-oh..."
"She said she doesn't care much about Christmas because she's Jewish... but since I care about Christmas, and since Christmas is the time of forgiveness, that I simply have to forgive her, and that it's just not fair if I don't."
"That's ingenious."
"So you think she's right?"
"Oh no, that's total bull. You can't demand forgiveness, it just doesn't work that way. But I suppose Rachel just isn't used to asking for things and waiting for them to happen organically."
"So you think I shouldn't forgive her."
"I can't tell you that. In fact, I'm not the one to ask about this. Forgiveness is not one of my strong topics."
"Now that's bull!" Finn protested. "You forgave me, you forgave Puck."
"But that's the thing, Puck never apologized to me for anything, and I never made a conscious decision to forgive him. One day I just realized that I thought of him as an ally, as a friend-despite-it-all, which meant that I must have forgiven him at some point. And it wasn't that much different with you, even if you did apologize. I was still angry for the longest time... and then I realized I wasn't anymore." Kurt shrugged, picking up his mug for another sip. "So I guess for me... forgiveness isn't something you do, it's something you feel."
"Well, I'm not feeling it," said Finn bitterly. "I'm not feeling it at all."
"She probably is genuinely sorry, though."
"Would you forgive her?"
"Me?!"
"Yeah. If it was Blaine.
"Blaine?!!!"
"If he was your boyfriend."
"He's not my boyfriend!"
"If he was. If Blaine cheated on you with... with me."
"With you." Kurt stared at Finn incredulously.
"Yes, me, because Blaine knew it'd hurt you more that way."
"Finn..."
"If Blaine was your boyfriend and cheated on you with me because he was angry for something you did while you weren't dating. Would you forgive him?"
"There are just too many 'if's there, Finn. I don't know what I'd do. I don't know how I'd feel."
Finn nodded and drank his milk, keeping the mug close to his chest.
"But if I were to make a wild guess," said Kurt tentatively, "it'd all depend on how much I... on the depth of my feelings for him."
"I love her," said Finn in a small voice.
"And also on my confidence that he would never purposely hurt me again."
Finn didn't reply to that.
6.
"Finn!"
"What?"
"Is it safe for me to come down?"
Finn frowned. "I'm dressed, if that's what you're asking."
"No, I mean, is there any mistletoe hanging from anywhere in the room?"
"Ah," Finn giggled. "No, all clear."
Still, Kurt made his way downstairs as cautiously as one would cross a minefield. But Finn had been right. There wasn't one single sprig of mistletoe in sight.
"So... Mom caught you, huh?" Finn pointed at the lipstick smears on Kurt's cheeks.
"Three times!" Kurt exclaimed, exasperated. "One kiss in the doorway just as I got in, another in the living room, the third in the kitchen. And Dad caught me once too, in the laundry room. I can't even remember the last time Dad's kissed me!"
"Yeah, Mom always has some mistletoe around in the house at Christmas time. Although I think she might have gone a little overboard this year."
"Okay, she and Dad are newly-weds, of course she wants as many excuses for sappy smooching with the new husband as possible."
"Gross," Finn growled.
"Maybe, but I get it. I just wasn't expecting to be part of the kissing fest."
"Why not? Didn't your mom..." Finn trailed off.
Kurt put his messenger bag on his bed and sat down beside it. "No. I remember her saying that mistletoe was for grown-up kisses. After she died, Dad never put it up again, so when I took over decorating the house, I never even considered using it either."
"Nah, for Mom, the mistletoe was always for me. I mean, she had a few boyfriends over the years, but none was ever around during holiday season." Finn grinned. "When I was little, we kind of turned it into a game, and I'd walk under the mistletoe on purpose, and she'd have to run after me to kiss me. And when I became too fast for her, she started hiding the mistletoe in places I'd never expect to catch me by surprise. It was a lot of fun, actually. But I had to make her promise not to do it when I had my friends over. Because, you know, not cool. Don't want them to think I'm a momma's boy."
Kurt smiled. "Of course not."
"And this year there's mistletoe everywhere. Maybe we can turn this into an obstacle race, you know? We see who manages to walk the longest in the house without being caught."
"And here I thought home was the place for rest, peace and quiet," Kurt sighed. "Speaking of peace and quiet, or the lack thereof, how are things going with the New Directions? Still no idea on who vandalized the choir room and stole the presents?"
"No. We were going to do the Gift of the Magi thing to buy school supplies for the McKinney-Vento kids..."
"Say that again?"
"You know," Finn shrugged. "The boys would sell their watches, the girls would sell their hair."
Kurt shuddered. "Well, that is one occasion Mr. Schue would have no trouble getting me to stay in the boys' group."
"Actually, Mr. Schue was the one who told us not to. Thank god. Because I really did not want to give away my watch."
"Finn, your watch looks like it's spent the last two decades spinning inside the tumble dryer. The seconds hand is stuck on six o'clock, it's a miracle the thing even works."
"It belonged to my dad."
Kurt squeezed his eyes shut and hid his face with his hands. "I'm an idiot."
"It's okay. You didn't know." Finn gave him one of his half-smiles. "Besides, I know you get it. With your mom's broken dresser and all."
"Yeah," Kurt mumbled. "I asked Dad to let me put it in my room when we move into the new house. He wants Carole to have her own things... and I guess so do I."
Finn nodded. "Yeah... I was planning to ask them to let me keep my dad's old recliner in my new room too. You probably think it's junk too..."
"Actually, it's in pretty good shape, given its age. There's some cracking and scratches, but nothing that can't be repaired."
"Really? Could you... would you help me with that?"
"Absolutely," said Kurt with a grin.
Finn raised his arm, his open palm turned towards Kurt. After a moment of perplexity, Kurt recognized the offer of a high-five, and slapped his stepbrother's hand with his own.
"Cool," said Finn.
"So... if Mr. Schue was against the selling of hair and watches... does he have any other ideas on how to raise the money you need?"
"We're going caroling again."
"Because that worked so well last time?" Kurt's voice dripped with sarcasm.
"No, this time we'll be singing for the teachers only."
"Wasn't a teacher who threw a shoe at you guys?"
"Well, yes. But she was surrounded by students who were yelling at us to drop dead, so... maybe it was just peer pressure, you know. And it won't happen in a room with teachers only."
Kurt opened his mouth to say something, then shook his head. "I was about to say that the notion of teachers succumbing to peer pressure from students is not only absurd but also not 'peer pressure' by its very definition... but it's McKinley. Stranger things happen there."
"Not at all like Dalton, huh?" said Finn a little bitterly.
"Dalton has its own flavor of weirdness, but yes, it is very different. I mean, the other students aren't nearly as excited about a Bach concert as they usually are about the Warblers performing Top 40, but Blaine says we'll have a full house for sure, even though tickets aren't exactly cheap. And the teachers are very supportive."
"It's like you go to school in a parallel universe or something," said Finn, shaking his head. "How come are things so different there? Is it just the non-bullying policy?"
"I don't know, really. I was talking with Blaine about that the other day... I said I wondered why Dalton even has a zero-tolerance harassment policy when there doesn't seem to be any hint of harassment in the school. Blaine said August and September are called the Sifting Months. That's when the freshmen and the students coming from other schools either learn Dalton's ways or are sent packing, right at their first offence. The upperclassmen won't befriend any bullies, for fear of being associated with them when they're caught. So... I guess with time it becomes ingrained, you see."
"Yeah," said Finn. Then, he frowned. "No, I don't. Ingrained how?"
"Well... take you, for example."
"Me?"
"Yes. Would you have started tossing other kids in the dumpster if instead of being impressed at your leadership skills all the other jocks pitied and avoided you? Would you have ever thrown eggs or pee balloons at anyone if that meant your upperclassmen labeling you the ultimate loser? If being mean to others actually meant that you'd have zero friends and zero followers?"
Finn looked away, seeming deep in thought. The room fell in a somewhat uncomfortable silence.
"I don't know if it's the non-bullying policy that makes the difference when it comes to the teachers, though," said Kurt eventually. "Maybe having students who feel secure at school makes them less afraid they'll riot or go on killing rampages, therefore less bitter about their jobs, maybe even content. Or maybe they just make more money than the average public school teacher," said Kurt with a shrug. "They sure have much better cars than Mr. Schuester."
"It's like you said last night. It's easier to be happy when the people around you are happy."
"Perhaps the teachers at McKinley only need to be reminded that life doesn't have to suck so badly. Yeah, some of their students do nothing but chip away at their hopes and dreams until all that's left is a never-ending nightmare of pain... but glee club is not about that. You're the good guys in a mission to do good to people who suffer more than they do."
Finn stared at Kurt with awe. "Whoa! That's really deep! I think I'm gonna use that in my speech."
"Your speech?"
"To introduce our performance. Rachel wanted to do it, but the others voted for me instead."
Kurt seemed a little wary. "While I'd probably have voted the same way... Finn, maybe you should let me write the speech for you."
"You? Why?"
"It'll still be your speech," Kurt assured him. "Your thoughts, my words. Your message, my syntax."
"You don't like my speeches?"
At Finn's hurt look, Kurt backpedaled quickly. "No, I love your speeches, I do! You always get your point across beautifully. Impressively." Then, after a beat, "Eventually."
Finn arched an eyebrow.
"It's just that... you tend to take some odd turns before getting there."
"Listen, I appreciate your concern, but... I can do it, okay? I'm the glee club's co-captain, so... that's my job."
"Fine. Just remember, you want those teachers to like you when you're done." Kurt sighed in resignation. "May I at least read it before you go to school tomorrow?"
"Oh, I'm not writing it. I'll just wing it."
"Oh dear..."
"I gotta, Kurt. That way people will know it comes from the heart." Finn stood up and stretched his long limbs. "Man, I hope dinner won't take long to be ready, I'm kinda hungry already."
Kurt's gaze turned to the top of the stairs for a moment, and he looked concerned. "Speaking of odd turns... we should discuss some sort of strategy."
"What for?"
"Escape routes and evasion maneuvers."
"What?"
"Well, say one of us inadvertently walks under a mistletoe, and the other one is the closest by," said Kurt really fast. "If it's just the two of us in the room, there's no problem, we can just ignore it. But say one of our parents is there to witness the fact. They might expect us to do something about it, and encourage us to do something, and that could get all kinds of awkward. But if we just ignore it, they might think we have a problem, and they might want to intervene, and that would only make things even more awkward. So we need to think of a way to..."
Finn interrupted the word flood by leaning down and kissing Kurt's forehead.
Kurt blinked, gaping at his brother.
"How's that for strategy?" asked Finn.
"Uh... yeah... I guess... I guess that works too."
"Cool!" Finn patted Kurt's shoulder and moved towards the stairs. "Listen, I'm gonna get my milk. Want me to bring you your green tea? I think I can make tea. Just boil the water with the teabags inside... Uh, where do you keep them?"
Kurt still stared at Finn with awe, and took a moment to recover. "I think I'd rather give your warm milk a try tonight."
Finn beamed. "Really?"
"I've been told it is delicious."
"Awesome!" Finn exclaimed, climbing the stairs two steps at a time.
7.
"Kurt! Kurt! You won't believe it!"
"SSSHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" Kurt ran to the bottom of the stairs, waving frantically at his brother. "Quiet!"
Chastised, Finn climbed down the rest of the steps on the tips of his toes. "Sorry. The bird is asleep already?"
"No, he's studying."
Finn blinked. "Studying? The bird needs to study too? Kurt, what kind of school are you going to?"
"Singing, Finn. He's studying singing." Kurt pointed at the cage. "And this is my own initiative."
Finn turned in the indicated direction and saw Kurt's boom box placed near Pavarotti's cage, softly playing birdsongs. "You are actually teaching your bird how to sing," Finn drawled in wonder.
"Yes! I read online that the molting period is an excellent time to play canary song recordings, because that's when they find it easier to learn new songs."
"You're kidding."
"I'm not." Kurt gazed at Pavarotti with excitement. "I wonder if he'll respond to whistling as well. I could teach him some songs from Wicked. Or maybe he and I could sing Two of Us by the Beatles as a duet. I'd sing all the lyrics, and he'd come in at the end to do John Lennon's whistling part."
"Or he could do the intro for Guns N' Roses' Patience," Finn suggested, clearly warming up to the idea. "Wait. A bird can't be an actual member of a glee club, right? I mean, you can't, like, use them at Regionals to compete. Because that'd be totally unfair."
"No, Finn, you can rest assured, that's not going to happen," said Kurt with a long-suffering sigh. "I checked. Show Choir Rule Book, page twenty-four, provision fourteen, third addendum. 'All members of the competing teams must be human, no exceptions.' Pity."
Still, Finn stared at Pavarotti with apprehension, as if measuring up the competition.
"Now come over here," said Kurt, pulling Finn to the opposite side of the bedroom, "and tell me what's got you so excited. Did the caroling go well?"
"Yes, it was a great, we raised over two hundred dollars."
"Impressive."
"Mr. Schue cut my speech before I could get to the good part, though."
"Oh, well." Kurt bit his lower lip to suppress a smile. "I'm sure you'll have other opportunities to dazzle people with your unique knack for words."
"Yeah, well, but that's not the really, really, really cool thing I was going to tell you about."
"Okay, so what is it?"
"I totally witnessed a Christmas miracle today."
"Ah, let me guess. No one in the glee club was slushied."
"Uh, no, I think Tina was."
"Rachel managed to say a full sentence without the words 'I', 'me', 'my', 'mine' or 'myself'?"
"No."
"It can't have been that miraculous, then."
"Artie walked."
Kurt stared at Finn as if he had suddenly grown three or four new heads. "I'm sorry, what?"
"He. Walked. Artie walked. For real."
"And... then he said, 'God bless us, every one'?"
"What? No, I'm serious."
"Artie walked. On his own." Kurt was obviously skeptical.
"Almost. He's got this awesome thing... Transformer legs!"
Kurt sat down on his bed, rubbing his temples. "Please tell me you're going to start making sense at some point."
"I'm making total sense!" Finn sat right beside his brother, with one leg folded on the bed so he could face him. "It's a machine from Israel, like a robot, but just the legs. Artie strapped himself to it, then he walked around in the choir room. Twice!"
"That's... that's amazing!"
"It so was, you have no idea! Artie said he can't use it all the time, but still... It was just so freaking awesome. Man, I wish you were there to see it."
Kurt gulped. "Yeah. Me too."
"And the weirdest part? No one knows where it came from."
"What do you mean?"
"It was left for him under the Christmas tree at Brittany's, but her dad swears he didn't do it, and Artie's parents said they didn't do it either. So..." Finn raised his hands, palms upward. "Nobody knows!"
"Well, it can't have just materialized out of thin air!"
"No, of course not. That's why the general sensus in the glee club is that it was Santa."
"Consensus, but never mind that. Santa, Finn? Seriously?"
"Hey, I may not believe in Santa, but Brittany does, and she asked Santa to make Artie walk."
"Right, I know, Mercedes told me about Mall Santa who spent way too long in a tanning salon and smelled like French fries."
"And it was her tree."
"So... what? Santa is real for those who believe in him?" Kurt shook his head in annoyance. "Okay, I think I just quoted the last sentence of some lame Christmas movie."
"No, dude, the point is, it doesn't matter. I mean, sure, there probably is some logical explanation for it. But why look for one? It's Christmas! Why ruin the magic by asking questions?"
"And since Brit wants to believe, she won't ask questions, therefore it's a Christmas miracle?"
"Yeah, why not?"
"And no one else's going to try to find out who it was? Not even Artie?"
"Why would he?"
"To thank them, obviously. It must have been a ridiculously expensive gift."
"If the person wanted Artie to know who they are, they'd have offered the gift in person, or at least left a card. They probably don't want Artie to feel elongated or something." Finn knitted his brows. "Although that machine kind of does elongate him. He was almost as tall as Brittany."
"I think the word you're looking for is 'obligated'. And I can't believe I'm saying this, but... you may have a point there."
"Yeah?" Finn seemed surprised at Kurt's concurrence.
"I told you, people act differently during the holidays. So maybe someone went crazy overboard with the do-a-good-deed thing. It happens. So... I'll do something unusual myself, and embrace the... miracle."
"Seriously?!" Finn couldn't contain his joy at that statement. "You really mean it?"
"Hell, why not? But let me be clear about this: I intend to go back to my good old skeptical atheist self by the morning of December 26th."
"I'm cool with that."
Kurt eyed Finn with amused fondness. "I'm almost afraid to ask. Are you planning on leaving milk and cookies for Santa on Christmas Eve?"
"Well, think of it this way. Chances are he'll walk away without leaving us any presents if we give him that awful green tea of yours."
Kurt decided this was as a good moment as ever to smother Finn's smirk with a pillow.
8.
"Well, hello, Finn Hudson."
"Hey, Kurt, where are you?"
"I just got home, checked on Pavarotti, and now I'm going to start on dinner."
"Forget dinner. Have our parents ask for takeout."
"Do you know how much sodium comes in takeout meals? Dad can't have that."
"Well, then tell him to wait until Mom gets home. There's a party tonight at Mr. Schue's."
"Wait, a party?"
"Yeah, I checked with Mom, she said it's okay."
"Carole said I could go?"
"Yeah!" There was a brief pause on the other end of the line. "Well, no. She said I could go. But you're my brother, right? So if I can go, you can go. It's only fair."
"Except that you're not grounded."
"...oh. Oh. I had forgotten about that."
"Yeah..."
"Well, can't you ask Burt? Is he home now?"
"Yeah, but I don't think that'd do me any good. He doesn't ground me often, but when he does, he's very stern about it."
"Hey, worst thing that can happen is he says no, right?"
Kurt sighed. "Fine, I'll ask him. I'll let you know how it goes."
"Good luck, bro!"
Kurt ended the call, took a deep breath, and made his way to the living room. He found Burt sitting on the couch, grumbling at something he was reading in the newspaper.
"Dad?" he said timidly.
"Hmmm."
"There's a party tonight..."
"No."
"But, Dad..."
"Sorry, kid. The answer is no."
"But Finn is going!"
"I know. Carole called me to say he'd be home late."
"And you think that's fair?"
"Finn is not grounded. You are."
"So I can't have dinner with Mr. Schuester in public, but Finn can go to a party at his house?!"
"With a bunch of other kids, plus Ms. Sylvester to chaperone, yes."
"Dad, you can't seriously think Mr. Schuester is a pedophile."
Burt dropped the newspaper on his lap and faced his son. "Even if there isn't anything... perverted going on with him... Kurt, the way he acts towards his students can be really... worrying."
"Why, because he acts like a friend?"
"Frankly, yes. He's a teacher, Kurt. He's not one of the gang. He can't be one of the gang and still retain a parent's trust. I need to be sure he'll be the responsible adult and pull the reins whenever you kids decide on doing something crazy."
"Who says one can't be friendly and be an adult at the same time?" Kurt argued.
"Thing is, Schuester's just proved he can't."
"Because he paid for my dinner as thanks for a favor?"
"Because he picked you up from school without consulting me, drove you for eight miles in a snowy night in that thing he calls a car... Come on, Kurt, every day for two years now I've seen him pass in front of the garage with that damn exhaust pipe dragging on the pavement shooting sparks everywhere."
"I told him we should have gone on the Navigator, but he thought it'd be safer if he was the one driving, and he didn't want to drive a car he was unfamiliar with."
"I don't know what kind of driver he is, but I know you. You're a safe driver, you drive a good car, and if you tell me it wasn't safe to drive, then I know it wasn't safe to drive. And there's no way you're going to convince me that Schuester, with that piece of junk of his, knows about cars and safety better than you do."
"The snow was starting to let up by then," Kurt mumbled.
Burt went on as if he hadn't been interrupted. "And did he even have a good reason to do it? Not in the slightest!"
"It was a shopping emergency, Dad!"
"Son, no shopping trip is worth putting your life at risk. You hear me?"
Kurt bit down his lower lip. "But, Dad..."
"No 'but's about this, Kurt. You're my kid, you mean the world to me. I don't want to lose you because some teacher, some former teacher of yours thinks it's okay to drag you out under bad weather to solve his personal problems, taking advantage of the fact that you can't say no to a trip to the mall."
"Still, you're mad at Mr. Schuester and taking it out me! I'm the one being punished here!"
"You are being punished because of your poor decisions. For agreeing to go with him. For not taking the Navigator. For not calling me to warn me of your plans. For not telling me where you were or who you were with even when I called you and asked if it was still snowing, if you wanted me to go and pick you up."
"I did tell you!"
"Right. You did. After I asked why I could hear female voices and the clink of china in the background."
"I wasn't going to lie to you about it."
"No, you were just going to keep me in the dark because, you know, what I don't know doesn't hurt me, right?" Burt said mockingly. "You think it wouldn't have hurt me if something had happened and I didn't even know where you were?"
"I'm seventeen, Dad!"
"And you usually behave like a mature boy who can be trusted to make wise decisions. Unfortunately, this was not one of those times, Kurt. And that's why you're grounded."
Kurt opened his mouth to argue, but nothing came out. With downcast eyes, he sat on the wooden arm of the couch, entwining his hands on his lap. "I never meant for you to worry about me."
Burt leaned back on the couch, mirroring his son's body language. "That can't be helped, you know. Comes with the territory. But I am asking you not to make it worse than it needs to be. No lies, no convenient omissions. And most important of all, no taking stupid risks. A true friend wouldn't ask that of you anyway."
Reluctantly, Kurt nodded.
"There'll be other parties, Kurt."
"I know. It's just... I miss my friends. And they are all there. And... I'm not."
Burt watched sadly as his son finally stopped twiddling his fingers and let his hands fall on his knees in sign of resignation. After a moment, he tapped Kurt's back gently with the folded newspaper. "Listen, your classes end next week, right? So why don't we have our own little party here? You and Finn can invite your friends from McKinley? If it's not too cold, we can even have a winter barbecue."
"Dad..." said Kurt warningly.
"Where I'll only eat brisket and grilled vegetables!" Burt rushed to add. "So what do you say? You're still grounded... but you can have your friends come over, if you promise to put some serious thought about what I've just told you. Deal?"
A tiny smile cut through Kurt's dejected expression, and the boy nodded. "Thanks, Dad."
Burt answered with a nod and a tight smile of his own. But as Kurt made to go back to the kitchen, he stopped him. "Son, you don't need to make dinner tonight."
"We are not ordering takeout," said Kurt adamantly.
"Well, what about one of those healthy dishes you keep making and freezing so I never have an excuse to order takeout when I'm all alone in the house?" asked Burt, amused. "We'll microwave some of those when Carole gets home."
"Why?"
"Well, Finn isn't here. You have your room all for yourself for a few hours, and that hasn't happened very often since the wedding, has it? And I love that kid, but I imagine he takes a lot of space..."
Kurt suppressed a grin. "That he does."
"So... go have some... 'me' time! Have your tea in peace, listen to your music, do all the crazy dancing you want. Or, I don't know, reorganize your closet, or whatever makes you relax."
Kurt arched an eyebrow. "You know, for most parents, punishment includes forced labor, in the form of house chores..."
Burt snorted and reopened the newspaper. "You're not being punished for being lazy, are you? In fact, me punishing you is usually a result of you going overboard with something. There's no point in lecturing you in doing more. What I want is for you to think before you act."
Kurt twitched his lips, chastened. "Fine. Guess I'll do a pumpkin-cranberry facial mask, and start thinking of palettes for the new house... and I should probably take the time to work on the Oratorio as well. It's really hard to do it when Finn is around laughing at my German."
He took his cell out as he went back to the kitchen, and texted his brother: No luck. Tell everyone I said hi.
Next, he fished his usual mug from the dishwasher, and from one of the cupboards he picked the little box of teabags. He juggled the box as he stared sadly at the mug...
...then put the box back, and took the milk carton out of the fridge instead.
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Chapter 3 - Of Décor and Miscommunication