FIC: "At the End of Each Day" (4a/?)
Title: At the End of Each Day (4/?)
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 2.12. 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".
Previously:
Chapter 1 - Of Parties and Betrayals
Chapter 2 - Of Ornaments and Adjustments
Chapter 3 - Of Décor and Miscommunication
At the End of Each Day
by Morgan D.
Chapter 4 - Of Signals and Infections
1.
"You go and fetch our milk tonight. I can't go into the kitchen."
"Why?"
"Dad and Carole are in another sickening 'I love you', 'I love you more', 'No, I love you more' session. I just can't stomach it."
"They've been like that since the wedding and you never seemed to mind," Finn pointed out, getting back to the task of unpacking his CDs and DVDs and placing them on his brand new shelves. "In fact, I remember you saying it was sweet and telling me to stop gagging."
"Yes, but that was when they were expressing their genuine newly-wed bliss. Now this... this is just giving into a tacky, idiotic, over-commercialized, wanna-be holiday."
"Uh?"
"Valentine's, Finn! They were discussing how they were going to celebrate Valentine's, where they're going to go to have a pretentious dinner served by bored waiters who weren't lucky enough to get the day off, and whether they're going to spend the night in some gaudy hotel where other old couples will go to pretend that they're still young, dating and childless."
"Could we please not talk about our parents and hotel rooms? Because, yuck."
"This whole holiday is a big yuck," Kurt muttered.
"Is this because it's a saint's day, and you're not into that?"
"Valentine's isn't even a saint's day! It might have been at some point, but now it's just Buy-Candies-and-Roses Day. And anyone who bothers to spend three minutes researching the issue online can learn that Saint Valentine, and by that I mean any of the Christian martyrs known by that name, has nothing to do with romantic love, some crazy legends about a rebellious priest performing illegal weddings notwithstanding. Chances are this madness is all Chaucer's fault. The man writes a poem about birds mating on the day of one Saint Valentine, and somehow everyone starts reading it as some other Saint Valentine being the patron of human love."
"Ooooookay," Finn murmured. "Sorry I asked."
Kurt halted his ranting and took a deep, calming breath. "I'm not saying there's anything wrong with romance. Far from it. I'm a firm believer in romance. But as a genuine, spontaneous expression of affection, not this... this contrived fever of hearts and chocolates and cupids and the indiscriminate abuse of red and pink.
"You know, Mom used to be really upset around Valentine's too. Like, really, really sad. And look at her now. Yeah, I don't want to know any details about what she and Burt are planning either, but... you can't deny that they're super happy. It's even kinda freaky to see old people that happy."
Kurt planted his fists on his hips. "Finn Hudson, are you saying all my very rational objections against Valentine's Day are simply a bitter backlash to my being single?"
"Uh... yes? No? I think so. Isn't it?"
Kurt glared daggers at him, and turned to leave. "When our parents clear the kitchen, I'm making myself green tea."
"Kurt, come on! Don't be like that!"
Kurt spun on his heels and pointed a finger at Finn. "Don't tell me what to be like! And may I remind you that you're single too?"
"Yeah, but... I'm like The Bachelor, now," said Finn with a lopsided smile.
"Excuse me?"
"The TV show? With all the gorgeous chicks fighting for one dude? After winning the first conference championship in the school's history, I'm every girl's dream date. The hardest part of the holiday will be figuring out which I one I should pick."
"Well, congratulations, then," said Kurt acidly. "Good luck choosing Puck's next fling."
This time, Finn didn't try to make him stay.
2.
"Your bird sounds happy today."
"I know. I think he was bitten by the Valentine's bug." There was a dreamy smile in Kurt's face as he watched Pavarotti sing.
"And you look a lot happier today too," Finn observed. He sat beside Kurt on the bed and handed him his mug of milk.
"Finn... do you know Rachel's usual coffee order?"
"Chai soy latte," Finn answered instantly. "She'd get really scary-angry if I got it wrong."
"Do you know Puck's?"
"Puck's?"
"Yes. What does he order at the Lima Bean?"
"Uh... coffee? And bagels?"
Kurt beamed. "He's your childhood friend, and you don't know his coffee order?"
"Should I?"
"No. Not at all." Kurt sounded very pleased. "What about cupid cookies? Would you share them with Puck... or with Rachel?"
Finn scowled. "Neither. Why would I want to share my cookies? They can get their own."
Kurt rolled his eyes. "Never mind. I already have all the answers I need."
"Good. What were the questions?"
Kurt sipped his milk, then joined Pavarotti in a whistling duet.
"Did Blaine ask you out?" asked Finn with a knowing grin.
"What?! No!"
"Come on... You were foaming at the mouth yesterday because of Valentine's, and now I can practically see the hearts in your eyes."
"I do not have hearts in my eyes!"
Finn stared right into Kurt's eyes, pointing a finger at them. "Hah! There they are. Like, cartoon hearts, about to jump out of your face."
Kurt slapped his finger away, but there was amusement in his face. "Shut up."
"I'm right, ain't I? Blaine totally asked you out."
"No." Kurt's body vibrated in barely contained excitement. "Not yet. But he's given me very obvious clues that he's about to. In a very romantic, inspired way."
"I knew it! I totally knew it."
"You didn't know anything!"
"No? Didn't I tell you before Christmas? Come on, you don't sing the frigging date rape song to a friend!"
This time Kurt didn't protest the song's epithet, focusing on the rest of Finn's statement. "You really think so?"
"Oh, yeah, definitely. And I hope he remembers you have a brother who's twice his size and who'll beat the crap out of him if he doesn't behave like a gentleman."
"Blaine is a gentleman. He's the epitome of a gentleman." Before Finn could ask, Kurt added, "That means he's very much a true, true gentleman."
"He'd better be," said Finn gravely. "You deserve someone who is totally awesome."
Kurt lowered his head, blushing. "Sorry about what I said yesterday. About Puck."
Finn nudged him gently, shoulder against shoulder. "It's okay. It wasn't cool that I was rubbing my dating in your face either."
"Speaking of," said Kurt more chirpily, "I received some very interesting calls today."
Finn growled. "And Mercedes Jones strikes again."
"She was the first, yes. Fastest texter in Ohio. But I also got calls and texts from Tina and Artie. And Rachel sent me five long emails expressing concern for your physical and emotional health." Kurt frowned. "I don't know about the latter, but I have to agree that a kissing booth will expose you to a frightening multitude of germs. What did Ms. Pillsbury have to say about that?"
"Nothing much, since she hasn't been around for about a week already. I've heard she's on medical leave... something about a student sneezing in her hair."
Kurt let out a frustrated sigh. "Just when her mysophobia could have actually been useful. Well, you'd better not bring any diseases home to infect this family. Especially Dad. I'm not sure if his immune system is back to full strength yet. Also, whenever he gets sick he keeps begging for high fat comfort food, and it pains me to say no to him when he's already feeling miserable."
Finn stood up, aggravated. "Why can't anyone see the good in what I'm doing? It's charity! Right now, I'm a very fortunate guy, popular and successful. The school loves me. Isn't this the time to give back? To do something for those in need? What's wrong with a little generosity?"
"Well, for starters, it is indeed little generosity," said Kurt patiently. "I know math is not your best subject, and neither is mine, but give it some thought at least. Even if every single girl at McKinley comes to your booth, and even if each and every one of them decides to have seconds and pays you twice, you'll still only make about a tenth of what the New Directions would need to pay for the trip to New York if you guys place at Regionals."
"But it is something!" Finn yelled. "Every dollar counts, right?"
"There's also the matter of motivation," Kurt continued. "You say you're just being charitable. But Mercedes thinks this is a ploy to get all the girls at McKinley to kiss you, while Rachel thinks this is a ploy to get back at her and make her jealous."
"It's not a ploy!"
"Good. Because I thought it might be a ploy to get Quinn to kiss you again."
Finn had his mouth open to argue, but closed it quickly, sending Kurt a scared look.
"No, Finn, I am not reading your mind."
At that, the quarterback's eyes widened in terror.
Kurt shook his head. "Just a lucky guess, okay? Or, okay, it's more than that. It's not like I don't understand the urge to give fate a better chance to get where we want it to get us. Been there, done that, got the stepbrother to prove it. I'm just wondering... why you'd want fate to get there in the first place."
Finn leaned back against the window, taking a sip of his milk. "It's just... I've been thinking a lot lately, you know? Since that day... and that kiss. And I've been wondering... if that's why Rachel and I couldn't make it work. Because I never really forgot Quinn."
"I thought it was because Rachel cheated on you with Puck."
"Well, yes. But..."
"So call me crazy, but maybe trying to get back to your other girlfriend who also cheated on you with Puck isn't exactly the best idea you've ever had?"
"The heart has reasons that... reason doesn't give a crap about, or whatever."
Kurt smiled behind his mug. "That's not quite how the saying goes, but..." He shrugged. "Eloquent enough, and so very true."
3.
"Finn! Your hands!"
"What?"
"You have red paint all over your hands! What do you think is going to happen if you open the fridge with your hands like that?"
"Oh. Sorry, Mom."
"It's fine, just go wash them. Outside, at the backyard faucet."
Finn rushed to obey, and returned after a couple of minutes, having managed to get water stains all over his clothes. But that was not what got Carole's attention. "Oh my God, you remembered to wipe your feet before coming back inside!"
"Uh... yeah?"
"How come in seventeen years I could never get you not to bring in a ton of dirt into the house every time you stepped outside?"
"No Kurt," said Finn easily.
"Kurt?"
"He's waaaaaaaay scarier than you are."
Carole laughed. "I knew having a brother would be good for you. See what a great influence he's been."
"He's threatened to starch my PJ's if he ever finds my footprints inside the house."
"Oh, is that all I had to do? If only I had known..."
"Mom!"
"Of course, you'd probably have a better chance safeguarding your clothes if you did your own laundry."
Finn narrowed his eyes. "I knew this was going to happen. Now you like Kurt better than me 'cause he's the neat one."
"Oh, none of that, honey. Kurt could never replace you in my heart. I still need someone I can beat at gin rummy. That was the whole reason why I wanted a child, after all." She got on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. "I'm a little late with dinner, so you might want to have your milk now instead of later."
"But... I need to wait for Kurt for that. Is he home yet?"
"He was, about an hour ago, but then he left again." She went back to dicing potatoes. "He's gone to a slumber party."
Finn gasped at the news. "He's spending the night at Blaine's?! They haven't even gone out on a date yet!"
"Blaine?" Carole frowned. "No, sweetheart, at Rachel's."
"Ah. Well. That's okay, then. Weird, but... okay."
"Weird how? Because he's a boy?"
"Because he's my brother and she's my ex-girlfriend, and because they used to be at each other's throats all the time not so long ago." Finn shrugged, taking the carton of milk out of the fridge. "In a way it makes total sense that they've become friends, but... it's a little eerie to think of the things they might plot together."
"Well, I don't know if that makes you feel any better, but I think Mercedes will be there too."
"Huh. I guess at least that way I'll find out what they'll be talking about, if I can get her to spill the beans tomorrow."
"Let Kurt have his privacy, Finn. Sharing a house with two new family members is as much an adjustment to him as it is to you."
"Is that why he decided to spend the night out? Why didn't he even bother to tell me about it?" He picked a mug from the cupboard and poured in the milk. "I was right there in the backyard. He could at least have stopped to say hi."
"He said he didn't want to disturb you while you were working on your project. And really, he didn't stay long. He packed his things while Burt cleared the matter with the Berries, and then he was off."
"Cleared what matter? The size of Kurt's bag? He probably had to take all his creams and stuff."
"Burt insisted on calling her fathers to make sure it was okay to have Kurt sharing a bedroom with their daughter. But they thought nothing of it." Carole giggled. "Actually, I think they were a little amused at Burt's concern."
Finn put the mug in the microwave and set the timer. "Kurt's not going to see my awesome booth now. I'm taking it to the school tomorrow morning."
"Take a picture," she suggested.
"It's not the same thing."
"I'm sorry, sweetie."
Finn muttered something under his breath, glaring at the lonely mug spinning in the microwave. He opened the door two seconds before the timer reached zero.
"Finn, how many times do I have to tell you to turn it off before you open the door if you're not going to wait for the beep?"
"Sorry. Forgot." He took the mug out, checked the temperature with a little sip, and nodded his approval. "I'll be in my room, okay?"
"Doing your homework, I hope."
He uttered another unintelligible grumble and escaped to the stairs and to the upper floor. He found Burt, fresh from his shower, leaving the master bedroom wearing sweatpants and a gray tee shirt, a towel around his shoulders.
"Finished with the painting already?"
"Yeah. It's looking good."
"How's your hand?"
"It's okay. I mean..." Finn raised his left hand to show it to his stepfather. "The tip of my thumb is a little purple, that's all."
Burt examined it, touching it carefully. "Still hurts?"
"Just a little."
"It's not swollen, so it should be okay in a couple of days. You gotta be more careful next time, though. You're gonna need those fingers when basketball season starts."
Finn smiled half-heartedly. "I already knew I had two left feet. I guess I have two left hands too."
Burt patted him on the arm. "Nah, don't give up, okay? Manual labor, just like everything else, just requires some practice. You'll get the hang of it."
"I don't know. I don't really see myself becoming a carpenter."
"And you don't have to. It's just useful having some basic skills, so you won't have to bring in some so-called 'professional' who'll rob you blind whenever you need a quick repair around the house."
"Yeah," said Finn with a nod. "Yeah, I totally get that. I don't wanna be that guy who calls the plumber every time there's a clog in the kitchen sink, you know?"
Burt nodded back, patted his arm once more, and started towards the stairs. As he went down the first step, though, he halted. "Finn?"
"Yeah?"
"Don't try to unclog any sinks on your own, okay? Call me... and I'll show you how. Baby steps. All right?"
"Right. No worries."
"Okay." Visibly relieved, Burt went down the stairs to join his wife.
Finn found himself at the door of Kurt's bedroom, which was open. He gazed down at the mug in his hand, a sad look taking over his face, and he entered the room, flicking the lights on.
The room wasn't as tidy as usual. There were clothes laid on the bed, still in their hangers, the closet doors were ajar, a drawer in the dresser was open. About half of the products that usually covered the vanity were gone.
And that wasn't the only thing missing.
Finn quickly took his phone out of his pocket and hit speed-dial.
"Hello, Finn Hud-"
"Kurt! Your bird flew away!"
"What?"
"Your bird is gone! I came to check your room, and he's not here! Did you leave the windows open? They're closed now. Maybe you left them open and Mom closed them after he escaped?"
"Finn..."
"Except that I can't find the cage either. He was so little, how did he manage to take the cage with him?"
"Finn, calm down. I took him back to Dalton this morning."
"What?" The quarterback sat down on Kurt's bed, still looking around in confusion. "Why?"
"He's well again, with a bright new coat of feathers, singing and hopping around in his cage... There was no reason to keep him at home anymore."
"What do you mean, no reason? I thought you liked him."
"He's not mine, Finn. He's the Warblers' mascot. His place is at Dalton."
"Yeah, but... he's like a Hudmel now."
"A what?"
"A Hudmel. A Hudson-Hummel clan member."
"Finn, you really need to stop making up those names. I can't say I like the way Santana loves calling us 'The Furt Brothers'. And as for... Seriously, do you even know the bird's name?" Kurt sighed.
"Of course I do!"
"Yeah? Then what is it?"
"It's... Pav... uh... Pav."
"Pav," Kurt echoed.
"Yep! That's what I call him."
"During the long afternoons you and... Pav... have spent together?" asked Kurt sarcastically.
Finn rolled his eyes. "Okay, fine, so I haven't spent that much time with him. But... he's a cute little bird, and you were taking good care of him... and you taught him new songs, and he was just starting to whistle duets with you... It was cool, all right? Like a Disney movie. And now..." He looked around at the room. "There's no one here."
"You don't think I'd love to keep him? I just... can't."
"It's not fair," Finn moaned.
"You should know better than anyone, Finn. You can't always get what you want."
Finn frowned. "Kurt, are you okay?"
"Sure. Why?"
"You sound kind of sad. And your room is a mess. Well, for your room, it's really messy. There's, like, clothes on the bed!"
Kurt seemed to hesitate before replying. "It's nothing. I was just in a hurry when I packed."
"You can talk to me, you know."
"You hate talking about feelings."
"We don't talk about feelings. We talk about things that happen that then cause feelings. Those don't make me sleepy."
"Well, I can't talk now, because I'm at Rachel's."
"So what? I have my warm milk here with me. You could get one too, and then we could talk. Do our thing, just over the phone."
"Finn, I'm a guest here. It'd be impolite."
"It's Rachel," said Finn with a shrug. "She wouldn't mind."
"Of course she would. And she would let me know very loudly how much she minds not being the center of attention at a slumber party at her own place, and she'd very likely get her dads to kick me out. Or worse, call Dad to come pick me up. So let's not, okay?"
"Fine," Finn grumbled. "It's just... it's our thing."
There was a pause on the other end of the line. Then Kurt spoke again, a little more cheerfully. "Listen, Rachel is at the door getting our pizzas, and Mercedes is in the bathroom changing into her pajamas. So we have a couple of minutes."
"You're eating pizza? You really are sad!"
"It's vegetarian pizza, light on the sauce, no cheese. Well, the one I'm sharing with Rachel is. Mercedes asked for a four meat, extra cheese, extra toppings."
"Did something happen today at your school?"
"...no. Nothing happened."
"Did Blaine...?"
"Blaine asked for an emergency meeting of the Warblers. They'll be performing off-campus the day after tomorrow."
"They? You won't be with them?"
"I... I don't know yet. I have to study. I don't know if they'd let me skip it, though. I... don't know."
"But..."
"What about you? How was your day?"
"Uh, well, Burt helped me build my kissing booth."
"He did?"
"Yeah, he did the hammering while I lifted up the boards and held them in place. We tried the other way around, but I kept hitting my fingers, and I'm younger and stronger anyway. And I did all the painting on my own."
"Did Dad know he was building a kissing booth?"
"Sure! Well, kind of. He might have thought that the booth is actually part of the set for a musical number for the glee club."
"Gee, I wonder what, or who, gave him that idea..."
"Is that Finn? Is he asking about me?" hissed another voice at the other end of the line.
"No."
"Of course he is! Why else would he call you?"
"If you must know, to ask about my bird."
"Your what? Kurt, clearly you don't know the first thing about boys! Can't you see that's just a poor excuse to casually query you about my sentiments and my state of mind, and to soothe his sorrowful heart by hopefully hearing my voice singing softly in the background..."
"Well, then I suspect his heart is amply soothed by now."
"Okay, so where's my pizza?" asked a third voice. "Kurt, tell me that is not Mr. Blaine Warbler on the phone."
"It's not, it's Finn! He's called Kurt just so he could listen to my voice."
"Then why didn't he call you? Doesn't he have your number?"
"Mercedes, don't you get it? He's being furtive!"
"I guess I am, right?" said Finn, thoughtful. "Talking to you. I'm being Furt-ive."
Finn heard an anguished moan.
"Kurt? Are you okay?"
"Kurt, what did he say? What did he say?" asked Rachel anxiously.
"Doesn't matter what he said," snapped Mercedes. "Kurt, say goodbye and turn it off. This is ladies' night. Straight boys not allowed."
"Finn, sorry, I need to hang up now."
Finn pouted. "Yeah. Okay. I get it."
"I'll see you tomorrow."
Finn hung up without saying anything else. He put Kurt's clothes back in the closet, closed its doors and the dresser drawer, turned out the lights and went to his own room. He sat on the recliner, drinking his milk and doing nothing else.
Twenty minutes later, Finn received a text from Kurt. Friendly advice: make sure you have change for $100 tomorrow. Just in case.
4.
"So here's my kissing booth. And here's the booth seen from the back, with the line that had already formed before I opened. And this is the line at the end of lunch hour. That's when most of the cheerleaders showed up."
"Did Quinn show up?"
"Uh... yes. Sort of."
Kurt leaned back against the headboard of his bed, smiling impishly. "And did you sort of kiss her?"
"No," Finn admitted, flipping through more photos in his cell phone. "She actually came to tell me that she wouldn't kiss me. Which kind of says a lot, right? I mean, if she didn't want to kiss me, she could have simply not come at all. I say she totally wants to, and is just trying to save face."
"Or maybe she can see through your whole scheme and is trying to get you to quit before you get hurt, or before she or Sam does."
"Kurt, you haven't seen how she's been looking at me lately. I'm telling you, she's giving me all the right signals."
"You can't be sure those signals mean what you want them to mean."
"Sure I can."
Kurt let out an exhausted sigh. "Are you serious about this? You're really going after Quinn?"
"Yep," said Finn defiantly.
"Fine. So please, do the decent thing and break up with Rachel once and for all."
"I already did that," said Finn with a frown. "Twice."
"Then do it again. In no uncertain ways. Leave no place for hope or delusions. No mixed signals of any kind. It may be brutal now, but believe me, it'll be the best thing for her in the long run."
Finn put his cell away, shifting on the bed to sit right beside Kurt, back pressing against the headboard. "Are we really talking about Rachel?"
"What do you mean?"
"You're still wearing your uniform. Blazer, tie and everything. It's getting all wrinkled. You only get careless with your clothes when you're upset."
"I'm just tired. Long rehearsal today."
"So you promise you're not talking about me."
Kurt blinked. "You?"
"Me. Giving you... mixed signals. Last year. Not that I knew that I was. Well. Sometimes... I..."
"Finn," Kurt interrupted him firmly. "I wasn't talking about you. I swear."
"Oh. Okay." However, the quarterback still looked suspicious.
Kurt closed his eyes and let his head fall back wearily. "It's Blaine. Okay? I was thinking about Blaine."
"Blaine? But Blaine didn't give you any mixed signals. He's asking you out for Valentine's."
"No, what he's asked me and the Warblers is that we back him up as he sings his undying love to the guy he really wants to ask out for Valentine's."
"Wait, what?!"
"Okay, so maybe Robin Thicke's When I Get You Alone isn't exactly about undying love. In a way, I almost wish it were."
Finn stared at Kurt, dumbfounded. "Are you serious? But... what about the date rape song? What was that?"
"A genuine request to help him rehearse and nothing more, I guess."
"Who does that?" Finn exclaimed. "What about the rest? You said he gave you obvious signs..."
"Well, obviously, I was wrong," Kurt quipped bitterly. "There were no signs. Just my overactive imagination. Wait, actually, you know what? There were some real signs, and those I totally missed. Like the fact that he went shopping at the Gap eight times in the past three weeks. What sane, tasteful person goes that often to the Gap unless they have a thing for the junior manager?"
"I'm sorry, man," said Finn softly. "That really, really sucks."
Kurt wrapped his arms around himself, his head lowered in defeat. "I should have known better. And I should've known better than letting myself be infected by this damn Valentine's Fever!"
"Are you sure he did not lead you on on purpose? Because, seriously, the date rape song..."
"Forget about the song, will you?" Kurt snapped. "No, I'm sure, it was all me. He probably doesn't even have a clue that I like... that I thought... you know."
Finn shifted even closer, letting their arms brush against each other. "He's an idiot, then."
"No, I have nothing but myself to blame. I'm the right gender, the right sexual orientation, his friends would not alienate him for being with me, and he's had plenty opportunity to know me and appreciate me. And he likes me even, as a friend. He just doesn't see me. And that's what's boggling my mind, because I'm used to being noticed and not liked. And he likes me but doesn't notice me."
"I'm telling you, he's an idiot."
"And I'm telling you, it's not his fault."
"And you're not saying that just so I don't beat him to a pulp?"
"Finn, if I thought he had deliberately led me on, I'd beat him to a pulp myself," Kurt smirked. "I'm taller than him, and I pack one hell of a kick."
Finn smiled. "That you do."
"Could you please be the one to go and bring us our milk? I wasn't kidding about the rehearsal. Really long, really tiring. The council is really uneasy about doing an informal performance, and made up for that by demanding nothing short of perfection. I'm not entirely sure they get the meaning of the word 'informal', really."
"Wait, so you're really gonna help Blaine ask some other guy out?"
"Apparently, yes. Mercedes and Rachel think I should, to scope the competition." Kurt shrugged. "I don't know, I can't really see the point, to be honest. The thing is, Blaine is my friend, and he asked for my help. It's hard to come up with any defensible excuse not to help a friend to get with the person he likes."
"So you end up doing stuff like serenading this Gap guy for Blaine... and helping me dress up for dinner with the Fabrays."
Kurt glanced at Finn out of the corner of his eye. "Let's not talk about that, okay?"
Finn gazed at him for a moment, then pulled him into a quick half-embrace. "I don't care what you say, he's an idiot." He jumped out of bed the next second. "Two mugs of warm milk coming up!"
5.
"Finn! Finn! Come on, we've just got the house! Try not to knock it to the ground!"
The door to Finn's bedroom opened with a swish, and the tall boy beamed down at his brother. "Finally, you're home!" He grabbed Kurt's arm and pulled him unceremoniously inside. "I have so much to tell you."
"Is that why you're jumping up and down, 'cause I could hear the manic thumping... Wait, is that Katy Perry?"
"Yeah, I'm trying to find a song for this week's glee club assignment."
"The girls told me you're supposed to pair up and sing what you consider the most romantic song of all time."
"Yeah, and I'm doing the trick Mrs. Schuester taught me, typing keywords into the iTunes and seeing what fits."
"And somehow you ended up with I Kissed a Girl?!"
Finn opened his arms and shrugged, his smile broadening smugly.
"Quinn came to your booth," Kurt realized.
The song coming from the speakers reached the chorus once more, and Finn joined in, dancing ecstatically.
"I kissed a girl and liked it
The taste of her cherry chap stick
I kissed a girl just to try it..."
Kurt marched to the computer and turned off the sound. "Okay, first, no Katy Perry in this house. Ever."
"You listen to Teenage Dream all the time."
"Not anymore, I don't."
"It's your ringtone for Blai... Oh."
"Yeah, exactly. It was my ringtone for him. Now it's Sade's Smooth Operator. Second, you know the next line of the chorus is 'I hope my boyfriend don't mind it', right?"
"Yeah, well, I was thinking of making a few changes to the lyrics, like saying 'her boyfriend' instead of 'my boyfriend'... and probably getting rid of the whole second verse..."
"Finn, even if you change the entire thing, third, are you really going to sing this to Quinn at glee club? In front of her boyfriend? And just hope he doesn't mind?"
"But that's the beauty of my plan, Sam won't get it!" said Finn triumphantly. "He was right there when I kissed her, and he thought nothing of it."
"And fourth, maybe there was nothing to think of. You were selling kisses in a booth. What makes you think it meant anything more than a simple donation for charity?"
"Because there were fireworks, Kurt! Fireworks!"
"Fireworks," Kurt echoed.
"Yes! Fireworks! Booming, bright, exploding in colors of fire all over the place like the end of V for Vendetta!"
"Wow. A kiss with the power to blow up the Houses of the British Parliament," said Kurt cynically.
"You just don't know what it's like."
Kurt sent him a glare and turned away. "And what if the fireworks didn't go off for Quinn too?"
"Ah, but they did. I know they did, because she came back and asked me to meet her tomorrow in the auditorium. Like, she whispered it in my ear, you know? With her husky voice. Like a mermaid or something."
Kurt sat down on a corner of Finn's bed, arms folded over the chest. "What about Rachel? Did you talk to her?"
Finn's enthusiasm waned immediately. "Yeah, she came to the booth too, before Quinn. Told me kissing me wouldn't be weird for her because she didn't want any men in her life. But then I thought it'd be weird for me, so I kissed her on the cheek, and she got mad."
"Oh, dear."
"So I followed your advice. I... I don't want her to still be hung up on me, demanding me to forgive her, waiting for me to get back with her, because I really don't see that happening now. So I broke up with her again. I even gave her that star necklace I bought her for Christmas."
Kurt arched an eyebrow."A breakup present? Finn, my advice was about avoiding mixed signals, not giving her more of them."
Finn shook his head. "It wasn't like that. I told her it'll be good for her to be alone and focusing on her career now, like she was talking about. That I believe in her. I just don't want to be with her."
"Hmm. Brutal," said Kurt with a nod, "but hopefully effective. It's hard to say. Hope can be hard to kill."
"Oh, crap," said Finn suddenly.
"What?"
"I forgot. That serenade thing to Blaine's... whatever. It was today, wasn't it? That's why you got home so late."
"Yes. Yes, it was."
"So? How was it?"
"We were great. We truly were. Impressive performance. The shoppers loved us, danced along, applauded effusively. So much energy. I think the Warblers will really surprise you at Regionals."
"Kurt..."
"Other than that, it was an unmitigated disaster. As it turned out, Mr. Junior Manager of the Gap was neither out nor that much into Blaine. Or maybe at all. And he was certainly even less so when his ignorant boss fired him over our performance."
"Seriously?!"
"Blaine told me his tragic love story afterwards. He met Jeremiah... that's the guy's name... when he went to the store to return a shirt whose buttons weren't aligned properly. Blaine was very taken by the swiftness with which the problem was solved, and I imagine also by the guy's salesman skills, since he left with not only a new perfect shirt, but also a blazer, a vest and two neckties." Kurt snorted. "Most conveniently, Blaine has several friends and relatives with birthdays in January, and he decided to gift them all with items from the Gap. In one of those shopping excursions, he arrived at the store just when Jeremiah was leaving for his coffee break, and Blaine basically invited himself to go along with him. A few more trips to the mall later, and Blaine managed to score a second coffee date. And that was last week."
"So... there was, like, nothing going on between them?"
"Apparently Blaine read way too much into the guy's determination to sell him socks, and into some perfunctory bonding over gay celebrities. It was really sad, actually."
"I don't mean to be insensitive, but... isn't that sort of good news? Means you still have a chance."
"Do I? I don't know. I'm just really confused right now."
Finn sat down beside him. "Can I help? I'm confused most of the time."
A little smile escaped Kurt for a second. "Meaning that you know the terrain and can guide me out of here?"
"Meaning that I know how it feels."
Kurt sighed. "I just... I don't get it. He thought he saw something in this guy. Something that wasn't there. And I thought I saw the same thing in Blaine, and that wasn't there either. So he was blind, and I was blind. But... how could he see the signs Jeremiah was giving him and read something into them... and at the same time give me the same signs... or even better signs... and not expect me to read them the same way he did?"
Finn's face contorted in several different ways before he admitted, "Dude, you lost me."
"They went out for coffee twice, they split the bill, and they talked about Perez Hilton. Meanwhile, Blaine and I would meet for coffee three times a week even before I transferred to Dalton. Now it's almost a daily thing. And he's paid for me a few times, and we share cookies and muffins, and we talk about everything, and we have so much in common. And he's always smiling at me and touching my arms, my shoulders, my knees, and he sang the frigging date rape song with me! And somehow Mr. Blond Hair in Dire Need of a Better Conditioner is his epic romance, and I'm nothing?"
"So... now you're thinking maybe Blaine did mean to lead you on?"
"No." Kurt shook his head vehemently. "No, he wouldn't. Absolutely not. That'd be... evil. Blaine isn't like that."
"Then, he's an idiot?"
Kurt sighed again. "Yes. Blaine Anderson is a complete and utter idiot."
(Chapter 4 continues HERE.)
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 2.12. 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".
Previously:
Chapter 1 - Of Parties and Betrayals
Chapter 2 - Of Ornaments and Adjustments
Chapter 3 - Of Décor and Miscommunication
At the End of Each Day
by Morgan D.
Chapter 4 - Of Signals and Infections
1.
"You go and fetch our milk tonight. I can't go into the kitchen."
"Why?"
"Dad and Carole are in another sickening 'I love you', 'I love you more', 'No, I love you more' session. I just can't stomach it."
"They've been like that since the wedding and you never seemed to mind," Finn pointed out, getting back to the task of unpacking his CDs and DVDs and placing them on his brand new shelves. "In fact, I remember you saying it was sweet and telling me to stop gagging."
"Yes, but that was when they were expressing their genuine newly-wed bliss. Now this... this is just giving into a tacky, idiotic, over-commercialized, wanna-be holiday."
"Uh?"
"Valentine's, Finn! They were discussing how they were going to celebrate Valentine's, where they're going to go to have a pretentious dinner served by bored waiters who weren't lucky enough to get the day off, and whether they're going to spend the night in some gaudy hotel where other old couples will go to pretend that they're still young, dating and childless."
"Could we please not talk about our parents and hotel rooms? Because, yuck."
"This whole holiday is a big yuck," Kurt muttered.
"Is this because it's a saint's day, and you're not into that?"
"Valentine's isn't even a saint's day! It might have been at some point, but now it's just Buy-Candies-and-Roses Day. And anyone who bothers to spend three minutes researching the issue online can learn that Saint Valentine, and by that I mean any of the Christian martyrs known by that name, has nothing to do with romantic love, some crazy legends about a rebellious priest performing illegal weddings notwithstanding. Chances are this madness is all Chaucer's fault. The man writes a poem about birds mating on the day of one Saint Valentine, and somehow everyone starts reading it as some other Saint Valentine being the patron of human love."
"Ooooookay," Finn murmured. "Sorry I asked."
Kurt halted his ranting and took a deep, calming breath. "I'm not saying there's anything wrong with romance. Far from it. I'm a firm believer in romance. But as a genuine, spontaneous expression of affection, not this... this contrived fever of hearts and chocolates and cupids and the indiscriminate abuse of red and pink.
"You know, Mom used to be really upset around Valentine's too. Like, really, really sad. And look at her now. Yeah, I don't want to know any details about what she and Burt are planning either, but... you can't deny that they're super happy. It's even kinda freaky to see old people that happy."
Kurt planted his fists on his hips. "Finn Hudson, are you saying all my very rational objections against Valentine's Day are simply a bitter backlash to my being single?"
"Uh... yes? No? I think so. Isn't it?"
Kurt glared daggers at him, and turned to leave. "When our parents clear the kitchen, I'm making myself green tea."
"Kurt, come on! Don't be like that!"
Kurt spun on his heels and pointed a finger at Finn. "Don't tell me what to be like! And may I remind you that you're single too?"
"Yeah, but... I'm like The Bachelor, now," said Finn with a lopsided smile.
"Excuse me?"
"The TV show? With all the gorgeous chicks fighting for one dude? After winning the first conference championship in the school's history, I'm every girl's dream date. The hardest part of the holiday will be figuring out which I one I should pick."
"Well, congratulations, then," said Kurt acidly. "Good luck choosing Puck's next fling."
This time, Finn didn't try to make him stay.
2.
"Your bird sounds happy today."
"I know. I think he was bitten by the Valentine's bug." There was a dreamy smile in Kurt's face as he watched Pavarotti sing.
"And you look a lot happier today too," Finn observed. He sat beside Kurt on the bed and handed him his mug of milk.
"Finn... do you know Rachel's usual coffee order?"
"Chai soy latte," Finn answered instantly. "She'd get really scary-angry if I got it wrong."
"Do you know Puck's?"
"Puck's?"
"Yes. What does he order at the Lima Bean?"
"Uh... coffee? And bagels?"
Kurt beamed. "He's your childhood friend, and you don't know his coffee order?"
"Should I?"
"No. Not at all." Kurt sounded very pleased. "What about cupid cookies? Would you share them with Puck... or with Rachel?"
Finn scowled. "Neither. Why would I want to share my cookies? They can get their own."
Kurt rolled his eyes. "Never mind. I already have all the answers I need."
"Good. What were the questions?"
Kurt sipped his milk, then joined Pavarotti in a whistling duet.
"Did Blaine ask you out?" asked Finn with a knowing grin.
"What?! No!"
"Come on... You were foaming at the mouth yesterday because of Valentine's, and now I can practically see the hearts in your eyes."
"I do not have hearts in my eyes!"
Finn stared right into Kurt's eyes, pointing a finger at them. "Hah! There they are. Like, cartoon hearts, about to jump out of your face."
Kurt slapped his finger away, but there was amusement in his face. "Shut up."
"I'm right, ain't I? Blaine totally asked you out."
"No." Kurt's body vibrated in barely contained excitement. "Not yet. But he's given me very obvious clues that he's about to. In a very romantic, inspired way."
"I knew it! I totally knew it."
"You didn't know anything!"
"No? Didn't I tell you before Christmas? Come on, you don't sing the frigging date rape song to a friend!"
This time Kurt didn't protest the song's epithet, focusing on the rest of Finn's statement. "You really think so?"
"Oh, yeah, definitely. And I hope he remembers you have a brother who's twice his size and who'll beat the crap out of him if he doesn't behave like a gentleman."
"Blaine is a gentleman. He's the epitome of a gentleman." Before Finn could ask, Kurt added, "That means he's very much a true, true gentleman."
"He'd better be," said Finn gravely. "You deserve someone who is totally awesome."
Kurt lowered his head, blushing. "Sorry about what I said yesterday. About Puck."
Finn nudged him gently, shoulder against shoulder. "It's okay. It wasn't cool that I was rubbing my dating in your face either."
"Speaking of," said Kurt more chirpily, "I received some very interesting calls today."
Finn growled. "And Mercedes Jones strikes again."
"She was the first, yes. Fastest texter in Ohio. But I also got calls and texts from Tina and Artie. And Rachel sent me five long emails expressing concern for your physical and emotional health." Kurt frowned. "I don't know about the latter, but I have to agree that a kissing booth will expose you to a frightening multitude of germs. What did Ms. Pillsbury have to say about that?"
"Nothing much, since she hasn't been around for about a week already. I've heard she's on medical leave... something about a student sneezing in her hair."
Kurt let out a frustrated sigh. "Just when her mysophobia could have actually been useful. Well, you'd better not bring any diseases home to infect this family. Especially Dad. I'm not sure if his immune system is back to full strength yet. Also, whenever he gets sick he keeps begging for high fat comfort food, and it pains me to say no to him when he's already feeling miserable."
Finn stood up, aggravated. "Why can't anyone see the good in what I'm doing? It's charity! Right now, I'm a very fortunate guy, popular and successful. The school loves me. Isn't this the time to give back? To do something for those in need? What's wrong with a little generosity?"
"Well, for starters, it is indeed little generosity," said Kurt patiently. "I know math is not your best subject, and neither is mine, but give it some thought at least. Even if every single girl at McKinley comes to your booth, and even if each and every one of them decides to have seconds and pays you twice, you'll still only make about a tenth of what the New Directions would need to pay for the trip to New York if you guys place at Regionals."
"But it is something!" Finn yelled. "Every dollar counts, right?"
"There's also the matter of motivation," Kurt continued. "You say you're just being charitable. But Mercedes thinks this is a ploy to get all the girls at McKinley to kiss you, while Rachel thinks this is a ploy to get back at her and make her jealous."
"It's not a ploy!"
"Good. Because I thought it might be a ploy to get Quinn to kiss you again."
Finn had his mouth open to argue, but closed it quickly, sending Kurt a scared look.
"No, Finn, I am not reading your mind."
At that, the quarterback's eyes widened in terror.
Kurt shook his head. "Just a lucky guess, okay? Or, okay, it's more than that. It's not like I don't understand the urge to give fate a better chance to get where we want it to get us. Been there, done that, got the stepbrother to prove it. I'm just wondering... why you'd want fate to get there in the first place."
Finn leaned back against the window, taking a sip of his milk. "It's just... I've been thinking a lot lately, you know? Since that day... and that kiss. And I've been wondering... if that's why Rachel and I couldn't make it work. Because I never really forgot Quinn."
"I thought it was because Rachel cheated on you with Puck."
"Well, yes. But..."
"So call me crazy, but maybe trying to get back to your other girlfriend who also cheated on you with Puck isn't exactly the best idea you've ever had?"
"The heart has reasons that... reason doesn't give a crap about, or whatever."
Kurt smiled behind his mug. "That's not quite how the saying goes, but..." He shrugged. "Eloquent enough, and so very true."
3.
"Finn! Your hands!"
"What?"
"You have red paint all over your hands! What do you think is going to happen if you open the fridge with your hands like that?"
"Oh. Sorry, Mom."
"It's fine, just go wash them. Outside, at the backyard faucet."
Finn rushed to obey, and returned after a couple of minutes, having managed to get water stains all over his clothes. But that was not what got Carole's attention. "Oh my God, you remembered to wipe your feet before coming back inside!"
"Uh... yeah?"
"How come in seventeen years I could never get you not to bring in a ton of dirt into the house every time you stepped outside?"
"No Kurt," said Finn easily.
"Kurt?"
"He's waaaaaaaay scarier than you are."
Carole laughed. "I knew having a brother would be good for you. See what a great influence he's been."
"He's threatened to starch my PJ's if he ever finds my footprints inside the house."
"Oh, is that all I had to do? If only I had known..."
"Mom!"
"Of course, you'd probably have a better chance safeguarding your clothes if you did your own laundry."
Finn narrowed his eyes. "I knew this was going to happen. Now you like Kurt better than me 'cause he's the neat one."
"Oh, none of that, honey. Kurt could never replace you in my heart. I still need someone I can beat at gin rummy. That was the whole reason why I wanted a child, after all." She got on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. "I'm a little late with dinner, so you might want to have your milk now instead of later."
"But... I need to wait for Kurt for that. Is he home yet?"
"He was, about an hour ago, but then he left again." She went back to dicing potatoes. "He's gone to a slumber party."
Finn gasped at the news. "He's spending the night at Blaine's?! They haven't even gone out on a date yet!"
"Blaine?" Carole frowned. "No, sweetheart, at Rachel's."
"Ah. Well. That's okay, then. Weird, but... okay."
"Weird how? Because he's a boy?"
"Because he's my brother and she's my ex-girlfriend, and because they used to be at each other's throats all the time not so long ago." Finn shrugged, taking the carton of milk out of the fridge. "In a way it makes total sense that they've become friends, but... it's a little eerie to think of the things they might plot together."
"Well, I don't know if that makes you feel any better, but I think Mercedes will be there too."
"Huh. I guess at least that way I'll find out what they'll be talking about, if I can get her to spill the beans tomorrow."
"Let Kurt have his privacy, Finn. Sharing a house with two new family members is as much an adjustment to him as it is to you."
"Is that why he decided to spend the night out? Why didn't he even bother to tell me about it?" He picked a mug from the cupboard and poured in the milk. "I was right there in the backyard. He could at least have stopped to say hi."
"He said he didn't want to disturb you while you were working on your project. And really, he didn't stay long. He packed his things while Burt cleared the matter with the Berries, and then he was off."
"Cleared what matter? The size of Kurt's bag? He probably had to take all his creams and stuff."
"Burt insisted on calling her fathers to make sure it was okay to have Kurt sharing a bedroom with their daughter. But they thought nothing of it." Carole giggled. "Actually, I think they were a little amused at Burt's concern."
Finn put the mug in the microwave and set the timer. "Kurt's not going to see my awesome booth now. I'm taking it to the school tomorrow morning."
"Take a picture," she suggested.
"It's not the same thing."
"I'm sorry, sweetie."
Finn muttered something under his breath, glaring at the lonely mug spinning in the microwave. He opened the door two seconds before the timer reached zero.
"Finn, how many times do I have to tell you to turn it off before you open the door if you're not going to wait for the beep?"
"Sorry. Forgot." He took the mug out, checked the temperature with a little sip, and nodded his approval. "I'll be in my room, okay?"
"Doing your homework, I hope."
He uttered another unintelligible grumble and escaped to the stairs and to the upper floor. He found Burt, fresh from his shower, leaving the master bedroom wearing sweatpants and a gray tee shirt, a towel around his shoulders.
"Finished with the painting already?"
"Yeah. It's looking good."
"How's your hand?"
"It's okay. I mean..." Finn raised his left hand to show it to his stepfather. "The tip of my thumb is a little purple, that's all."
Burt examined it, touching it carefully. "Still hurts?"
"Just a little."
"It's not swollen, so it should be okay in a couple of days. You gotta be more careful next time, though. You're gonna need those fingers when basketball season starts."
Finn smiled half-heartedly. "I already knew I had two left feet. I guess I have two left hands too."
Burt patted him on the arm. "Nah, don't give up, okay? Manual labor, just like everything else, just requires some practice. You'll get the hang of it."
"I don't know. I don't really see myself becoming a carpenter."
"And you don't have to. It's just useful having some basic skills, so you won't have to bring in some so-called 'professional' who'll rob you blind whenever you need a quick repair around the house."
"Yeah," said Finn with a nod. "Yeah, I totally get that. I don't wanna be that guy who calls the plumber every time there's a clog in the kitchen sink, you know?"
Burt nodded back, patted his arm once more, and started towards the stairs. As he went down the first step, though, he halted. "Finn?"
"Yeah?"
"Don't try to unclog any sinks on your own, okay? Call me... and I'll show you how. Baby steps. All right?"
"Right. No worries."
"Okay." Visibly relieved, Burt went down the stairs to join his wife.
Finn found himself at the door of Kurt's bedroom, which was open. He gazed down at the mug in his hand, a sad look taking over his face, and he entered the room, flicking the lights on.
The room wasn't as tidy as usual. There were clothes laid on the bed, still in their hangers, the closet doors were ajar, a drawer in the dresser was open. About half of the products that usually covered the vanity were gone.
And that wasn't the only thing missing.
Finn quickly took his phone out of his pocket and hit speed-dial.
"Hello, Finn Hud-"
"Kurt! Your bird flew away!"
"What?"
"Your bird is gone! I came to check your room, and he's not here! Did you leave the windows open? They're closed now. Maybe you left them open and Mom closed them after he escaped?"
"Finn..."
"Except that I can't find the cage either. He was so little, how did he manage to take the cage with him?"
"Finn, calm down. I took him back to Dalton this morning."
"What?" The quarterback sat down on Kurt's bed, still looking around in confusion. "Why?"
"He's well again, with a bright new coat of feathers, singing and hopping around in his cage... There was no reason to keep him at home anymore."
"What do you mean, no reason? I thought you liked him."
"He's not mine, Finn. He's the Warblers' mascot. His place is at Dalton."
"Yeah, but... he's like a Hudmel now."
"A what?"
"A Hudmel. A Hudson-Hummel clan member."
"Finn, you really need to stop making up those names. I can't say I like the way Santana loves calling us 'The Furt Brothers'. And as for... Seriously, do you even know the bird's name?" Kurt sighed.
"Of course I do!"
"Yeah? Then what is it?"
"It's... Pav... uh... Pav."
"Pav," Kurt echoed.
"Yep! That's what I call him."
"During the long afternoons you and... Pav... have spent together?" asked Kurt sarcastically.
Finn rolled his eyes. "Okay, fine, so I haven't spent that much time with him. But... he's a cute little bird, and you were taking good care of him... and you taught him new songs, and he was just starting to whistle duets with you... It was cool, all right? Like a Disney movie. And now..." He looked around at the room. "There's no one here."
"You don't think I'd love to keep him? I just... can't."
"It's not fair," Finn moaned.
"You should know better than anyone, Finn. You can't always get what you want."
Finn frowned. "Kurt, are you okay?"
"Sure. Why?"
"You sound kind of sad. And your room is a mess. Well, for your room, it's really messy. There's, like, clothes on the bed!"
Kurt seemed to hesitate before replying. "It's nothing. I was just in a hurry when I packed."
"You can talk to me, you know."
"You hate talking about feelings."
"We don't talk about feelings. We talk about things that happen that then cause feelings. Those don't make me sleepy."
"Well, I can't talk now, because I'm at Rachel's."
"So what? I have my warm milk here with me. You could get one too, and then we could talk. Do our thing, just over the phone."
"Finn, I'm a guest here. It'd be impolite."
"It's Rachel," said Finn with a shrug. "She wouldn't mind."
"Of course she would. And she would let me know very loudly how much she minds not being the center of attention at a slumber party at her own place, and she'd very likely get her dads to kick me out. Or worse, call Dad to come pick me up. So let's not, okay?"
"Fine," Finn grumbled. "It's just... it's our thing."
There was a pause on the other end of the line. Then Kurt spoke again, a little more cheerfully. "Listen, Rachel is at the door getting our pizzas, and Mercedes is in the bathroom changing into her pajamas. So we have a couple of minutes."
"You're eating pizza? You really are sad!"
"It's vegetarian pizza, light on the sauce, no cheese. Well, the one I'm sharing with Rachel is. Mercedes asked for a four meat, extra cheese, extra toppings."
"Did something happen today at your school?"
"...no. Nothing happened."
"Did Blaine...?"
"Blaine asked for an emergency meeting of the Warblers. They'll be performing off-campus the day after tomorrow."
"They? You won't be with them?"
"I... I don't know yet. I have to study. I don't know if they'd let me skip it, though. I... don't know."
"But..."
"What about you? How was your day?"
"Uh, well, Burt helped me build my kissing booth."
"He did?"
"Yeah, he did the hammering while I lifted up the boards and held them in place. We tried the other way around, but I kept hitting my fingers, and I'm younger and stronger anyway. And I did all the painting on my own."
"Did Dad know he was building a kissing booth?"
"Sure! Well, kind of. He might have thought that the booth is actually part of the set for a musical number for the glee club."
"Gee, I wonder what, or who, gave him that idea..."
"Is that Finn? Is he asking about me?" hissed another voice at the other end of the line.
"No."
"Of course he is! Why else would he call you?"
"If you must know, to ask about my bird."
"Your what? Kurt, clearly you don't know the first thing about boys! Can't you see that's just a poor excuse to casually query you about my sentiments and my state of mind, and to soothe his sorrowful heart by hopefully hearing my voice singing softly in the background..."
"Well, then I suspect his heart is amply soothed by now."
"Okay, so where's my pizza?" asked a third voice. "Kurt, tell me that is not Mr. Blaine Warbler on the phone."
"It's not, it's Finn! He's called Kurt just so he could listen to my voice."
"Then why didn't he call you? Doesn't he have your number?"
"Mercedes, don't you get it? He's being furtive!"
"I guess I am, right?" said Finn, thoughtful. "Talking to you. I'm being Furt-ive."
Finn heard an anguished moan.
"Kurt? Are you okay?"
"Kurt, what did he say? What did he say?" asked Rachel anxiously.
"Doesn't matter what he said," snapped Mercedes. "Kurt, say goodbye and turn it off. This is ladies' night. Straight boys not allowed."
"Finn, sorry, I need to hang up now."
Finn pouted. "Yeah. Okay. I get it."
"I'll see you tomorrow."
Finn hung up without saying anything else. He put Kurt's clothes back in the closet, closed its doors and the dresser drawer, turned out the lights and went to his own room. He sat on the recliner, drinking his milk and doing nothing else.
Twenty minutes later, Finn received a text from Kurt. Friendly advice: make sure you have change for $100 tomorrow. Just in case.
4.
"So here's my kissing booth. And here's the booth seen from the back, with the line that had already formed before I opened. And this is the line at the end of lunch hour. That's when most of the cheerleaders showed up."
"Did Quinn show up?"
"Uh... yes. Sort of."
Kurt leaned back against the headboard of his bed, smiling impishly. "And did you sort of kiss her?"
"No," Finn admitted, flipping through more photos in his cell phone. "She actually came to tell me that she wouldn't kiss me. Which kind of says a lot, right? I mean, if she didn't want to kiss me, she could have simply not come at all. I say she totally wants to, and is just trying to save face."
"Or maybe she can see through your whole scheme and is trying to get you to quit before you get hurt, or before she or Sam does."
"Kurt, you haven't seen how she's been looking at me lately. I'm telling you, she's giving me all the right signals."
"You can't be sure those signals mean what you want them to mean."
"Sure I can."
Kurt let out an exhausted sigh. "Are you serious about this? You're really going after Quinn?"
"Yep," said Finn defiantly.
"Fine. So please, do the decent thing and break up with Rachel once and for all."
"I already did that," said Finn with a frown. "Twice."
"Then do it again. In no uncertain ways. Leave no place for hope or delusions. No mixed signals of any kind. It may be brutal now, but believe me, it'll be the best thing for her in the long run."
Finn put his cell away, shifting on the bed to sit right beside Kurt, back pressing against the headboard. "Are we really talking about Rachel?"
"What do you mean?"
"You're still wearing your uniform. Blazer, tie and everything. It's getting all wrinkled. You only get careless with your clothes when you're upset."
"I'm just tired. Long rehearsal today."
"So you promise you're not talking about me."
Kurt blinked. "You?"
"Me. Giving you... mixed signals. Last year. Not that I knew that I was. Well. Sometimes... I..."
"Finn," Kurt interrupted him firmly. "I wasn't talking about you. I swear."
"Oh. Okay." However, the quarterback still looked suspicious.
Kurt closed his eyes and let his head fall back wearily. "It's Blaine. Okay? I was thinking about Blaine."
"Blaine? But Blaine didn't give you any mixed signals. He's asking you out for Valentine's."
"No, what he's asked me and the Warblers is that we back him up as he sings his undying love to the guy he really wants to ask out for Valentine's."
"Wait, what?!"
"Okay, so maybe Robin Thicke's When I Get You Alone isn't exactly about undying love. In a way, I almost wish it were."
Finn stared at Kurt, dumbfounded. "Are you serious? But... what about the date rape song? What was that?"
"A genuine request to help him rehearse and nothing more, I guess."
"Who does that?" Finn exclaimed. "What about the rest? You said he gave you obvious signs..."
"Well, obviously, I was wrong," Kurt quipped bitterly. "There were no signs. Just my overactive imagination. Wait, actually, you know what? There were some real signs, and those I totally missed. Like the fact that he went shopping at the Gap eight times in the past three weeks. What sane, tasteful person goes that often to the Gap unless they have a thing for the junior manager?"
"I'm sorry, man," said Finn softly. "That really, really sucks."
Kurt wrapped his arms around himself, his head lowered in defeat. "I should have known better. And I should've known better than letting myself be infected by this damn Valentine's Fever!"
"Are you sure he did not lead you on on purpose? Because, seriously, the date rape song..."
"Forget about the song, will you?" Kurt snapped. "No, I'm sure, it was all me. He probably doesn't even have a clue that I like... that I thought... you know."
Finn shifted even closer, letting their arms brush against each other. "He's an idiot, then."
"No, I have nothing but myself to blame. I'm the right gender, the right sexual orientation, his friends would not alienate him for being with me, and he's had plenty opportunity to know me and appreciate me. And he likes me even, as a friend. He just doesn't see me. And that's what's boggling my mind, because I'm used to being noticed and not liked. And he likes me but doesn't notice me."
"I'm telling you, he's an idiot."
"And I'm telling you, it's not his fault."
"And you're not saying that just so I don't beat him to a pulp?"
"Finn, if I thought he had deliberately led me on, I'd beat him to a pulp myself," Kurt smirked. "I'm taller than him, and I pack one hell of a kick."
Finn smiled. "That you do."
"Could you please be the one to go and bring us our milk? I wasn't kidding about the rehearsal. Really long, really tiring. The council is really uneasy about doing an informal performance, and made up for that by demanding nothing short of perfection. I'm not entirely sure they get the meaning of the word 'informal', really."
"Wait, so you're really gonna help Blaine ask some other guy out?"
"Apparently, yes. Mercedes and Rachel think I should, to scope the competition." Kurt shrugged. "I don't know, I can't really see the point, to be honest. The thing is, Blaine is my friend, and he asked for my help. It's hard to come up with any defensible excuse not to help a friend to get with the person he likes."
"So you end up doing stuff like serenading this Gap guy for Blaine... and helping me dress up for dinner with the Fabrays."
Kurt glanced at Finn out of the corner of his eye. "Let's not talk about that, okay?"
Finn gazed at him for a moment, then pulled him into a quick half-embrace. "I don't care what you say, he's an idiot." He jumped out of bed the next second. "Two mugs of warm milk coming up!"
5.
"Finn! Finn! Come on, we've just got the house! Try not to knock it to the ground!"
The door to Finn's bedroom opened with a swish, and the tall boy beamed down at his brother. "Finally, you're home!" He grabbed Kurt's arm and pulled him unceremoniously inside. "I have so much to tell you."
"Is that why you're jumping up and down, 'cause I could hear the manic thumping... Wait, is that Katy Perry?"
"Yeah, I'm trying to find a song for this week's glee club assignment."
"The girls told me you're supposed to pair up and sing what you consider the most romantic song of all time."
"Yeah, and I'm doing the trick Mrs. Schuester taught me, typing keywords into the iTunes and seeing what fits."
"And somehow you ended up with I Kissed a Girl?!"
Finn opened his arms and shrugged, his smile broadening smugly.
"Quinn came to your booth," Kurt realized.
The song coming from the speakers reached the chorus once more, and Finn joined in, dancing ecstatically.
"I kissed a girl and liked it
The taste of her cherry chap stick
I kissed a girl just to try it..."
Kurt marched to the computer and turned off the sound. "Okay, first, no Katy Perry in this house. Ever."
"You listen to Teenage Dream all the time."
"Not anymore, I don't."
"It's your ringtone for Blai... Oh."
"Yeah, exactly. It was my ringtone for him. Now it's Sade's Smooth Operator. Second, you know the next line of the chorus is 'I hope my boyfriend don't mind it', right?"
"Yeah, well, I was thinking of making a few changes to the lyrics, like saying 'her boyfriend' instead of 'my boyfriend'... and probably getting rid of the whole second verse..."
"Finn, even if you change the entire thing, third, are you really going to sing this to Quinn at glee club? In front of her boyfriend? And just hope he doesn't mind?"
"But that's the beauty of my plan, Sam won't get it!" said Finn triumphantly. "He was right there when I kissed her, and he thought nothing of it."
"And fourth, maybe there was nothing to think of. You were selling kisses in a booth. What makes you think it meant anything more than a simple donation for charity?"
"Because there were fireworks, Kurt! Fireworks!"
"Fireworks," Kurt echoed.
"Yes! Fireworks! Booming, bright, exploding in colors of fire all over the place like the end of V for Vendetta!"
"Wow. A kiss with the power to blow up the Houses of the British Parliament," said Kurt cynically.
"You just don't know what it's like."
Kurt sent him a glare and turned away. "And what if the fireworks didn't go off for Quinn too?"
"Ah, but they did. I know they did, because she came back and asked me to meet her tomorrow in the auditorium. Like, she whispered it in my ear, you know? With her husky voice. Like a mermaid or something."
Kurt sat down on a corner of Finn's bed, arms folded over the chest. "What about Rachel? Did you talk to her?"
Finn's enthusiasm waned immediately. "Yeah, she came to the booth too, before Quinn. Told me kissing me wouldn't be weird for her because she didn't want any men in her life. But then I thought it'd be weird for me, so I kissed her on the cheek, and she got mad."
"Oh, dear."
"So I followed your advice. I... I don't want her to still be hung up on me, demanding me to forgive her, waiting for me to get back with her, because I really don't see that happening now. So I broke up with her again. I even gave her that star necklace I bought her for Christmas."
Kurt arched an eyebrow."A breakup present? Finn, my advice was about avoiding mixed signals, not giving her more of them."
Finn shook his head. "It wasn't like that. I told her it'll be good for her to be alone and focusing on her career now, like she was talking about. That I believe in her. I just don't want to be with her."
"Hmm. Brutal," said Kurt with a nod, "but hopefully effective. It's hard to say. Hope can be hard to kill."
"Oh, crap," said Finn suddenly.
"What?"
"I forgot. That serenade thing to Blaine's... whatever. It was today, wasn't it? That's why you got home so late."
"Yes. Yes, it was."
"So? How was it?"
"We were great. We truly were. Impressive performance. The shoppers loved us, danced along, applauded effusively. So much energy. I think the Warblers will really surprise you at Regionals."
"Kurt..."
"Other than that, it was an unmitigated disaster. As it turned out, Mr. Junior Manager of the Gap was neither out nor that much into Blaine. Or maybe at all. And he was certainly even less so when his ignorant boss fired him over our performance."
"Seriously?!"
"Blaine told me his tragic love story afterwards. He met Jeremiah... that's the guy's name... when he went to the store to return a shirt whose buttons weren't aligned properly. Blaine was very taken by the swiftness with which the problem was solved, and I imagine also by the guy's salesman skills, since he left with not only a new perfect shirt, but also a blazer, a vest and two neckties." Kurt snorted. "Most conveniently, Blaine has several friends and relatives with birthdays in January, and he decided to gift them all with items from the Gap. In one of those shopping excursions, he arrived at the store just when Jeremiah was leaving for his coffee break, and Blaine basically invited himself to go along with him. A few more trips to the mall later, and Blaine managed to score a second coffee date. And that was last week."
"So... there was, like, nothing going on between them?"
"Apparently Blaine read way too much into the guy's determination to sell him socks, and into some perfunctory bonding over gay celebrities. It was really sad, actually."
"I don't mean to be insensitive, but... isn't that sort of good news? Means you still have a chance."
"Do I? I don't know. I'm just really confused right now."
Finn sat down beside him. "Can I help? I'm confused most of the time."
A little smile escaped Kurt for a second. "Meaning that you know the terrain and can guide me out of here?"
"Meaning that I know how it feels."
Kurt sighed. "I just... I don't get it. He thought he saw something in this guy. Something that wasn't there. And I thought I saw the same thing in Blaine, and that wasn't there either. So he was blind, and I was blind. But... how could he see the signs Jeremiah was giving him and read something into them... and at the same time give me the same signs... or even better signs... and not expect me to read them the same way he did?"
Finn's face contorted in several different ways before he admitted, "Dude, you lost me."
"They went out for coffee twice, they split the bill, and they talked about Perez Hilton. Meanwhile, Blaine and I would meet for coffee three times a week even before I transferred to Dalton. Now it's almost a daily thing. And he's paid for me a few times, and we share cookies and muffins, and we talk about everything, and we have so much in common. And he's always smiling at me and touching my arms, my shoulders, my knees, and he sang the frigging date rape song with me! And somehow Mr. Blond Hair in Dire Need of a Better Conditioner is his epic romance, and I'm nothing?"
"So... now you're thinking maybe Blaine did mean to lead you on?"
"No." Kurt shook his head vehemently. "No, he wouldn't. Absolutely not. That'd be... evil. Blaine isn't like that."
"Then, he's an idiot?"
Kurt sighed again. "Yes. Blaine Anderson is a complete and utter idiot."
(Chapter 4 continues HERE.)