You're the Only Thing I Know Like The Back of My Hand (1/2) [Kurt/Finn]
Title: You're the Only Thing I Know Like The Back of My Hand
Author:preferthemoss
Pairing: Kurt Hummel/Finn Hudson
Rating: PG13
Warnings: Background/past Quinn/Brittany, Tina/Mike, Rachel/Puck, Puck/Santana, and Will/Emma.
Spoilers: General series overall. Nothing major, and as long as you know who Blaine is, I'd call it good.
Words: 17,00
Summary: When Blaine starts seeing his friendship with Kurt as potential for more, Kurt fears ruining the solidity of their relationship by tainting it with the drama of a romance. Unable to reject him directly, he choses the "I'm already seeing someone" route, crowning Finn as the someone in question. Finn plays along with Kurt's lie for a while, willing to do anything for the boy who is not only his step-brother, but quickly becoming his best and most cherished friend. After a while, the lines between the lie and their reality blur, and Finn finds himself in the middle of a crisis.
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue. (Read full disclaimer here.)
Notes: Written for renrenren3 in the gleesecretsanta 2010 exchange. Thanks to corvx143 for all his help, and being my cheerleader at all hours of the night while I was ready to set this entire thing on fire. Title by Taylor Swift.
Mini-soundtrack here.
Prompts Used; Kurt-Centric, Kurt/Finn, Quinn/Brittany, Will/Emma, "Fooling around in the snow, making snowmen, having epic snowball battles and then drinking lots of hot chocolate to recover", Fake!Boyfriends, "or, you could have everyone in New Directions (having a sleepover) together, maybe during a school/field trip?", side-pairings, past relationships, "making out and cuddling that doesn't necessarily lead up to sex".
The blankets were warm over Finn's body, as the sounds of Burt clumsily getting ready for work broke the long-running silence of the night from upstairs. The basement was darkened, with Kurt's heavy blinds pulled down over the window, and Finn sunk lower into his bed as he realized he had less than twenty minutes of comfort before their alarm (also known as Carole) would pull them out of bed for school.
Turning the home on Elmwood into the Hummel-Hudson household had taken less work and drama than Finn had expected. Burt and Carole were, well, Burt and Carole, blissful newly-weds who seemed to be falling more in love each day. Finn and Kurt had worked out their differences, with Kurt giving up on actively trying to bend Finn to the gay side, and Finn surrendering into acceptance when it came to Kurt's now-innocent flirtations.
Lately though, things had been tense and awkward. Moreso thanks to Blaine than anything.
He'd been misreading Kurt's signals, putting more into it than was ever actually there. He'd stand a little too close, look a little too long, and refuse to hang up the phone without making some sort of gushy, romantic, or even sexual advancement first.
It'd been funny for a while, watching Kurt blush and stutter as he tried to handle it, but now... now it was just downright depressing.
Finn had talked to Kurt about it a few times, as they'd laid around the house, taking turns with the TV as they forced each other to sit through episodes of Gossip Girl and Disorderly Conduct. He'd explained the way he felt for Blaine, which was complicated and crazy, but the baseline Kurt had been running on was kind of quite simple, really.
He loved Blaine, truly and deeply, in a way that really would probably never change. But, it wasn't the type of love that, like, got his heart beating and his blood pumping, and... whatever else it was that Kurt had said. It was more of a brotherly bond, a dependency that Kurt was counting on. Blaine was smart and attractive and courageous and fun, and... the last thing Kurt needed was to let a half-assed romantic relationship get in the way of having a friend like that.
Finn had been confused for a while, not really understanding why Kurt wouldn't just date Blaine, already. Finn knew (hell, everyone knew) that Kurt was more than ready to start dating and doing more, and Finn couldn't exactly be sure, but he had a good feeling that from the perspective of a gay guy, Blaine was probably pretty damn hot.
But, it'd made sense to him finally, after spending countless hours listening to Kurt and Blaine ramble on and on and on about things that came in shiny boxes of varying shades of pink.
He'd never admitted out loud the method he'd used, because no one needed to know that the way Finn came to his conclusions about Kurt and Blaine was by thinking instead about him and Puck.
Puck was his best friend, had been since they were three. They used to think they could read each other's minds legitimately, and maybe, if Finn was still nine, he'd still believe it.
They had all the right things in common, and all the perfect types of differences. And if Finn were gay (yeah, living with Kurt had taken a lot of the uncomfortable sting off that word), he'd... no. No, he wouldn't.
He wouldn't date Puck, for reasons that spanned much farther than the fact that Finn would never be into dating anyone who'd fuck all of his friends. He wouldn't date Puck because he wouldn't be willing to risk what they had for what they'd never be able to count on to work. Puck was like a brother, a cousin, at least, and the more time Finn spent around Kurt and Blaine, the more he realized that... Kurt actually made sense.
"Finn?" Kurt's voice broke over Finn's rambling thoughts, startling him slightly, despite the soft tone of it.
"Yeah?" He answered back lamely, feeling more asleep than awake, even though the clock had rolled about seventeen minutes since he'd opened his eyes.
"I can't sleep," Kurt sighed deeply, voice louder now, as Finn looked questioningly up at their ceiling.
"Well, uh... that's... a good thing," he started awkwardly, "It's time to get up," he finished, in case somehow Kurt had managed to miss that fact. "Have you been up all night?"
"Ugh, most of it," Kurt moaned exaggeratedly, and Finn swore he could hear him roll his eyes. "I... Blaine wants to take me to the movies tonight," he explained softly, words almost lost under the shuffle of blankets. "And I mean, I... I kind of want to go but--"
"But last time you went to the movies with him, he kept running his hand up your thigh," Finn finished for him, sitting up straight in his bed as he felt a sick kind of kick to his stomach. He'd heard it before, in fact, many times, but who could keep count? It was always the same; Kurt would agree to do things with Blaine, and Blaine would push Kurt's boundaries in a way that kind of... made Finn get a little... angry.
Blaine was generally a good guy, Finn knew that, he did. He wasn't sleazy or slutty, or forceful at all. He didn't do things to make Kurt feel cheap or worthless, or pressure him into doing things he said he didn't want to.
Truth be told, Finn was almost entirely sure that if Kurt would say no, Blaine would drop it without ever looking back.
It was just... getting Kurt to say no that was the problem.
"Okay guys," Mister Schue's voice boomed confidently through the choir room, echoing almost uncomfortably off the mass of misfit students who'd clearly not had enough sleep. "Emma and I have been thinking," he started, and Finn wondered silently if he even noticed that ninety per cent of his sentences started with 'Emma and I have been thinking' lately. It'd gotten to the point where he didn't even try to be calling her Miss Pillsbury anymore, and truth be told, Finn kind of thought that by now... no one was really even noticing that.
"Since it's nearing Christmas, and a lot of the other teachers are starting to let their students slack before the holidays," he began, letting a sly grin slip over his face, as all of the students visibly perked up. "I'm going to make you guys work twice as hard," he finished, prompting an unwarranted string of obscenities from Santana, before Rachel leaned forward in her seat.
"But, Mister Sch--"
"You've already been working us to th--"
"Mercedes, please," Will raised a gentle hand to silence her, and Finn slumped in his chair uncomfortably as he shoved both hands into the pockets of his red hoodie. "Listen up, guys," Will prompted again, getting nothing but a chorus of sighs in response. "Emma's got a cabin," he started awkwardly, an unexpected turn of conversation that had everyone confused. "When she married Carl, he bought it for her," he explained. "For them," he corrected, before clearing his throat awkwardly. "But, as you know, she and Carl are no longer seeing each other, and he left the cabin to her," Will shrugged almost sheepishly, as if he was about to admit something bad. "And, you know, I was just thinking that... you know, there's been way too much drama and stress and... and animosity in this group lately. There's... there's no reason for that, guys," he insisted in a way that was almost preaching, as he leaned back against the piano behind him, arms folded over the dark green sweatervest he had stretched over his chest. "You all used to get along, despite your many differences. You guys used to just... get over it, you know? Life goes on, guys, no matter who hurts your feelings or breaks up with you, or asks you out, or... or sleeps with your girlfriend," he rambled awkwardly, and Finn was sure that in the peripherals of his vision, Puck tensed in his seat.
If only just a little.
"I want us to get that back," Will continued, pushing off from the piano to cross to his desk. "I want us to be strong, to be a unit, to be a club again," he explained, pulling a dry erase marker out of a drawer, before pressing it's tip against the whiteboard at the front of the room.
"School lets out this Friday, guys," he started, tone less wistful, and more business now. "Friday afternoon, I want you all here and packed, ready to go," he continued, writing the dates of the weekend down on the board. "Because Emma's cabin?" He asked almost smugly, turning to face the class, as the clock ticked loudly behind him. "It's big enough for all of us."
"So, let me... let me get this straight," Burt repeated slowly, words mumbled around a mouthful of steak, as Kurt tried and failed desperately to replace the beef with veal. "Your teacher... wants to take you out to his remote cabin in some... some backwoods dessert?" He asked incredulously, and Finn shook his head fondly at the easy-awkward banter that was taking place across the table.
"Dad, don't say it like it's the plot of To Catch a Predator," Kurt sighed almost arrogantly, stabbing his fork through the heart of his Caesar Salad. "You're looking at this all wrong," he continued, looking to Finn for support.
"Mmm," Finn hummed, attempted words lost entirely around the steak that no one was gonna prevent him from eating. "Yeah, it's cool, Mister Hummel," Finn promised, addressing his step-father by surname, despite knowing damn well he'd lost the need to do that about five months ago. What? Kurt had ridiculously effective puppy dog eyes. Finn had to have something, too, didn't he?
"Mister Schuester's definitely not like that," Finn continued, wondering why his mom seemed to have no say in the matter. "I've trusted him for a lot, and he's always come through. Plus, you know, it's not even like he'd have the chance to do anything shady even if he wanted to," Finn shrugged, eyes darting over to Kurt as he heard a choked off laugh. "Like, we all have cell phones, and Miss Pillsbury will be there, and like... there's twelve students, I'm pretty sure that--"
"You boys want to go?" Burt interjected suddenly, sparing Finn from having to continue on with his awkward and unplanned ramble.
"We do," Kurt answered immediately, and Finn nodded in reply.
Burt sighed deeply, taking a long, slow drink from his glass of Ginger Ale, before meeting Carole's eyes over the table.
"Well then... do we have to sign anything?"
Finn watched in awkward discomfort as Kurt's clothes flew by him at an alarmingly frantic pace. For someone who spent ninety-seven point three per cent of his allowance (yeah, they'd calculated once) on clothes each month, he sure did take a liking to tossing them around.
"So, I guess... you're going then?" Finn questioned needlessly, perching on the edge of Kurt's bed, as he raised an eyebrow at the framed picture of Blaine sitting on the night stand next to it. He wondered idly if Kurt believed there was a stage of relationship between 'just friends' and 'never-going-to-leave-you-ever'.
"Yes, I'm going," Kurt snapped back quickly, in a hybrid of tones that fell somewhere between annoyed and resigned. "I just... it's so confusing, you know?" He asked dejectedly, words almost a whine, as he pulled something yellow out of his closet. "It's like... I like spending time with him. I love it, actually, but he... he loves it a little too much, and I just--"
"I know, Kurt," Finn interrupted, saving his friend from having to repeat the same awkward and tormented speech he'd made at least two dozen times over the last couple of months.
"I just wish there was some way to turn him down without rejecting him, you know?" Kurt asked almost dreamily, as if finding the way to do that would end all war in the world.
Finn moved back on Kurt's bed, shifting to lean against the wall, as he stretched across the mattress to hit the play button on the CD player next to Blaine's perma-smile face. "Well," he started slowly, not having any real options planned as the sounds of Beyonce quietly filled the space between them. "You... you could ask Quinn?" He suggested finally, words surprising himself, as he tried to figure out why, exactly, they'd ever made sense to him.
Kurt straightened in front of the closet, turning to face Finn, with one hand on his hip, the other holding a pair of shiny pants that looked, like, really soft. "Ask Quinn what, exactly?" He questioned incredulously, before spinning around to train his focus back on the color-coded rack of clothes in front of him.
Finn shrugged in silence, shoulders rubbing against the wall beside Kurt's bed, as he finally realized why Quinn was the answer.
"Well, like..." He started awkwardly, because, hey... knowing what you want to say, and knowing how to say it were two different things. "Sam's been hitting on her for, like, four months now," he continued finally, eyes widely triumphant as he caught sight of the train of thought he wanted to be on. "I know he's been asking her out, and apparently he even tried to give her a ring, or something. I heard her talking to Mercedes about it," he continued, shifting over on the bed as Kurt abandoned his clothing crisis to join him on the mattress. "I don't know exactly what she did, or how she did it, but... they're not dating, and they are still friends," Finn insisted honestly, feeling more than a little proud as Kurt's face brightened slightly. "So, clearly..."
"She knows how to reject without rejecting," Kurt finished happily, smile wide and bright as he took in the facts. "Finn Hudson," he started slowly, and Finn winced playfully at the familiar tone. "You are a genius!" Kurt praised happily, as he tackled Finn to the Mattress in a hug that ended quickly.
Finn jumped slightly as the sound of heeled shoes broke his awkward focus, and he didn't give his brain enough time to think about how weird it was that the echoing click-clack of high heels that he'd long ago associated with mean substitute teachers was actually now the warning alarm that his step-brother was coming down the stairs.
They weren't girly heels or anything, just... well... Kurt had lectured Finn about fashion more than once, and apparently the wedge heels at the back of his black patent boots were 'fierce'.
Or something.
"Finn?" Kurt's voice called out across the basement, and Finn scrambled clumsily to put away all the jars of creams and lotions that he'd curiously pulled down from the shelves in the bathroom they shared.
Perhaps 'shared' was an overstatement, since Finn's 'half' of the shelves above the toilet held nothing but a razor, some shaving cream, and a bottle of aftershave he'd gotten from Puck's dad way back in seventh grade.
Kurt's half, however, was an array of colorful tubes and bottles, packages of weird scrubby things, and shiny boxes full of...
What the hell were those, anyway?
"Finn?" Kurt called out again, closer now, and Finn sighed deeply as he realized he was busted.
"Yeah, I'm in here," he called back in resignation, knowing there was no way he was going to hide the evidence of his invasion before Kurt found out what he'd done.
It wasn't like he'd used any of the stuff.
He just... wanted to see.
"What..." Kurt's eyes went wide as he rounded into the bathroom, finding Finn leaning against the sink, with both hands braced behind him on the small counter. "Are you doing?" He finished finally, face dark and playful at the same time, in a way that had Finn uncomfortable.
"I... I didn't use, steal, or break anything," Finn promised with wide eyes, because... calling Kurt 'Mister Hummel' just wouldn't work.
Kurt stood in silence for a moment, eyes taking in the clutter of nail clippers, facial masks, eyelash curlers and teeth whiteners that were currently littering the countertop behind Finn's hands.
"Oh, Finn," he sighed finally, smiling fondly in a way that let Finn know he was off the hook. "You don't need this stuff, you know," he teased too loudly, and Finn smiled crookedly as he stepped aside, watching in silence as Kurt began picking things up and putting them away.
"I... I didn't use anything, I swear I jus--"
"Good, this stuff is expensive, Finn. It's not to be wasted on boys who are already beautiful," Kurt chastised casually, before trailing off into a silence that was broken only by the sound of Finn's audible gulp.
It still happened sometimes, the flirtations that had once had Finn full of angst at the world.
They'd sit too close sometimes, reach for the remote at the same time, be the only ones laughing at each other's jokes, and... and then there were the more obvious things, like... like the times when Kurt's mouth seemed to run faster than his brain.
But, the difference between then and now was that now wasn't scary. Finn wasn't scared to walk around in his boxers, or share the couch with Kurt when there was nowhere else to sit. He didn't feel awkward about that time Kurt pulled on Finn's football jacket to check the mail the morning he was expecting his pre-ordered copy of Rihanna's new CD to be at the end of their driveway. And, fortunately, he'd learned to take Kurt's comments in stride.
He didn't mind it so much, not anymore, not really. He knew by now that they were both on the same page about what they were, weren't, and never would be. But, it was kind of like how he knew he'd never hook up with Brittany, and yet... he still kind of flirted with her sometimes anyway. It was fun and she was hot, and as long as no one was getting hurt, then... Kurt could flirt if he wanted to, and Finn was okay with that, now that he knew he wasn't expected to flirt back.
"Thanks," Finn mumbled sheepishly, face flushing softly as Kurt's did the same. "Uh, oh, how was... what did Quinn say?" He asked finally, remembering that Kurt had just come back from visiting her house.
"Oh ho," Kurt huffed exaggeratedly, as he shoved a shiny silver cardboard box into the medicine cabinet. "If you were about to ask me how Quinn was, I'd say she's doing quite well," he started, eyes wicked and excited as he turned to flick off the bathroom light, pushing Finn backwards out of the room. "Did you know she's seeing someone?" He asked smugly, and Finn smiled softly at his friend's almost alarming level of love for gossip and drama.
"No, Kurt, I did not know that Quinn is seeing someone," Finn bit the line, dropping into the armchair near the side of Kurt's bed.
"Oh, she is," Kurt insisted, jumping (jumping!) onto his bed as his voice hitched slightly. "She's dating Brittany," he dished, and Finn's eyebrows raised high on his forehead, as he shook his head slowly.
"No she is not," he denied incredulously, leaning forward in his chair, wondering only vaguely when exactly he'd turned into a gossip slut, too.
"Oh, she is too," Kurt carried on, sitting on the edge of his bed, with his legs crossed, hands folded over one knee. "Quinn's mom sent me up to her room, and when I got in there, Brittany was in bed, sick," Kurt started, words quick and fluid as he retold his story. "Quinn was nurse-maiding her, all bringing her water and brushing her hair, and when Brittany said she wanted to have a bath, Quinn went to her dresser, and got Brittany's clothes out of it," he finished frantically, and Finn cocked his head to the side, clearly missing how that was relevant.
"Finn, they're living together," Kurt explained slowly, as if speaking to a child.
"Well..." Finn started, dropping his eyebrows as he straightened in the chair, trying to put the facts together in his mind. "That doesn't mean much, I mean... we live together," Finn countered regretfully, biting his lip softly as he realized he'd brought them back to a potentially uncomfortable place.
"Yeah, well, we don't share a dresser," Kurt detoured thankfully, and Finn just shrugged as he refused to believe that his second girlfriend was dating his best friend, and his first true love was now... a lesbian?
"I wouldn't want your shiny shit in with my clothes anyway," Finn teased playfully, a reflex of sorts, as Kurt's jaw dropped open.
"I wouldn't want my Alexander McQueen mingling with your Wal-Mart, either!" Kurt countered, eyes wide as Finn rolled up his sleeves in mock menace, intending to tickle Kurt into submission, before remembering that the entire point of visiting Quinn still hadn't been made.
"So, what about Blaine?" Finn pressured loudly, almost shouting the words as Kurt cowered behind a pillow.
"Oh," Kurt sighed deeply, face falling from playful to utterly depressed in less than three seconds. "She said that she had some trouble with Sam in the beginning," Kurt began slowly, and Finn had a bad feeling that he'd be hearing all the gory details of Handsy-Blaine later tonight. "And that she just kind of lucked out, and... can't really tell me how to do the same, especially since she's never even met Blaine," Kurt lamented with a frown, and Finn slumped lower in his seat as he wished desperately the he knew how to get Kurt out of this.
"Well..." He started finally, studying Kurt's face, as Kurt stared him down. "Do you... do you think it had anything to do with Brittany? I mean... if Quinn's really dating her, I guess Sam would have no choice but to back off, right?" Finn asked questioningly, unsure if his train of thought was even a good one as of yet. "And... that's not really a rejection, it's just... choosing someone else," he shrugged easily, before moving to get up out of the chair, heading toward the staircase, because it was six o'clock.
Six o'clock was Pop Tart time.
"Finn," Kurt's voice was soft behind him, and Finn turned back to find his friend with a conflicted look on his face, a hybrid of worry and fear, as he straightened his posture on the bed.
"Yeah?" Finn answered back, standing still, with one foot on the stairs, as he looked back at Kurt.
"Never mind," Kurt shook his head slowly, slouching against the mattress, as he cleared his throat. "Go, get your Pop Tarts," he grinned without humor. "We'll... we can talk about this later."
Wildberry Pop Tarts had never tasted so bad.
"Kurt?" Finn called out softly, finding Kurt curled up on top of the white blankets on his bed, iPod playing in his ears through a pair of those Lady Gaga headphones he'd saved up for nine months to get. "Princess?" He tried again, knowing that name was one of the few that would inevitably get his attention.
Well... of the list of names that Finn was willing to call him, anyway.
Kurt stayed still on the bed, facing the wall, away from Finn, and Finn sighed softly as his eyes took in the mess of clothes and accessories around the room, a stark contrast against the clean, white frame that held the photo of the smiling Warbler; the tornado that'd caused this mess in the first place.
"Kurt," Finn called again, moving to crawl onto the bed beside him, laying down next to him, as Kurt finally pulled the Heartbeats out of his ears, turning to look at Finn, before moving to lay on his back.
"You scared me," Kurt mumbled quietly, words aimed at the ceiling, as Finn propped his elbow up on the pillow, leaning his head against his fisted hand.
"You had your earphones in," Finn countered, his mom's old-as-time version of 'I knocked, I swear!'.
"You're... in my bed," Kurt corrected after a moment, and Finn dropped his eyes as he inhaled deeply.
"I can... get out of it?" He offered awkwardly, words lifting into a question at the end, as Kurt shook his head.
The silence was awkward between them for the first time in months after that, with Finn suddenly feeling like laying there next to the boy who'd literally been writing Finn's name in hearts in his notebook one year ago was... kind of... wrong.
"What, uh... what did you want to talk about?" He questioned finally, remembering why he'd skipped out on Pop Tart time in the first place.
"Huh?" Kurt turned to look at him for a short lived moment, before tearing his focus away, letting it fall on the mirror on the dresser at the foot of his bed. "Oh, yeah, nothing, I--"
"Kurt," Finn warned, knowing what was about to happen.
Kurt had gone too long with his opinions and feelings being unheard or unaccounted for. Everyone always treated him as a write off, for reasons that Finn couldn't even begin to understand. But, he knew that it'd caused some deep-seeded issues in Kurt, causing him to feel like his thoughts weren't worth hearing, when really... Finn couldn't think of anyone else he'd rather talk to, most days.
Kurt bit his lip softly, knowing that tone in Finn's voice.
"I just..." He started on a whisper, words soft and almost shaken as he twirled the cord of his headphones around his fingers. "I was thinking, you know. About... about Quinn and Britt, and... me and Blaine, and... I was thinking that maybe you have a point. That maybe Quinn has a point. That maybe... being off the market really is the best way to let someone down easy," he explained softly, as if he was afraid to really vocalize the words.
Finn looked down at him expectantly, prompting for him to continue. "So, what are you gonna do about it?"
Kurt took a long, deep breath, reminding Finn of the time he was in third grade, and had done nothing but take breaths just like that for two minutes straight as he stood in front of the class, preparing to share his speech about Snowflakes.
"See, that's the thing," Kurt started awkwardly, rolling on the bed to lay face-to-face with Finn, who slumped down to rest his head on the pillow beside him at eye level. "I... I think I wanna tell Blaine that I'm seeing someone," he explained, hands abandoning their task of toying with the iPod. "But... he's gonna ask, you know. He's my best friend, and he's gonna want details, and I... I can't really make someone up all of a sudden, because Blaine will know I'm lying if I'm suddenly dating some random guy I've never once mentioned before. Not to mention how awkward it would get when he starts asking to meet him," Kurt rambled clumsily, words tumbling out quick and sharp.
"So what are you gonna do, then?" Finn asked softly, studying Kurt's face in an attempt to understand where he was going with this.
"Um, re... remember that time Rachel was over here, and... and she wanted to use our computer to research sheet music for love songs, and... and I ran down here first to delete all of your porn out of the history?" Kurt asked awkwardly, grinning softly as Finn flushed, squeezing his eyes shut as he laughed despite himself, before nodding.
"Well, uh..." Kurt continued finally, serious again as he cleared his throat. "I think maybe you owe me for that," he accused softly, looking like a deer in the headlights, until Finn nodded immediately.
"I do, you're right," he lied, knowing that he had, in fact, paid for twenty per cent of the music that was on the iPod in Kurt's hands. But, Kurt was his brother now, not to mention one of the best friends he'd ever had. He wasn't gonna draw the line anywhere, not if he could help it.
Kurt looked surprised for a moment, words cut off as he tried to gather them again. "Be my boyfriend," Kurt blurted finally, shaken and almost slurred, as Finn tensed on the bed beside him. "I mean, just... just as far as Blaine is concerned. I... I thought this through, Finn," he continued awkwardly, and Finn swallowed hard as he let Kurt carry on.
"I mean, you don't care what Blaine thinks of you, right? And Blaine doesn't really talk to anyone we know, and... and you and I don't hang out with Blaine together a lot, so it wouldn't even be like he'll have to see us together, just... just let me use your name when he asks why I'm bailing early tonight? And... and don't freak out if he ever questions you about it?" Kurt pleaded desperately, moving to kneel on the bed by Finn's waist, as Finn turned onto his back to face him again.
"Uh," Finn ran a hand through his hair, going over the details of Kurt's plan in his mind. It could be absolutely perfect, really, because Kurt had made a lot of good points. And as long as Finn didn't have to do much other than lie to a dude he didn't like much to begin with, he couldn't see how exactly that could be bad. But, he couldn't stop the feeling in the base of his chest, like maybe... maybe this could end in a way that would be entirely catastrophic.
In the end, the puppy eyes won.
"But... but what about mom and Burt, what if Blaine says anything when he comes over here?" Finn asked warily, feeling a bit of the weight lift off his chest as Kurt's face brightened slightly at what was obviously confirmation that Finn was at least considering it.
"I'll take care of everything, Finn, everything, I swear," Kurt promised. "No one will ever hear a word of this, other than Blaine," he insisted seriously, and Finn bit his lip softly as he closed his eyes, praying to god that Kurt was right. Because as much as he had gotten almost intimately comfortable with Kurt over the last half year, he still wasn't gay, still wasn't into drama, and would never be okay with their parents deciding to put up a wall in the basement for reasons they'd never admit to the builders.
"Promise?" He asked again anyhow, opening one eye to find Kurt looking pale and nervous.
"Swear my life on it," Kurt nodded, and Finn sighed in resignation.
"Dude, you're gonna owe me one hell of a Christmas present."
Kurt came home crying that night, face slightly splotchy as he wiped at his eyes. Finn had literally reached for his jacket immediately, more than ready to kick someone's ass for it, until Kurt pulled him into the basement, smiling softly as he stood in the middle of their room with a proud posture.
"He didn't hurt me, Finn, I'm okay," he started thankfully, and Finn felt himself physically relax under that revelation. "I'm just... I'm really relieved, and... extremely emotional because... everything's gonna be okay for me now," he explained happily, smile warm and bright as he continued on about his night, and how Blaine had been a little crushed at first, before Kurt put his acting skills to good use, and made him believe he was really and truly happy with Finn, which Blaine wasn't able to hold a grudge against for long.
And after that... it was time for Wildberry Pop Tarts.
Finn eyed Quinn up silently from across the choir room, unable to take his eyes off of the soft but unmissable purple mark across her throat. Never once had he seen her with a hickey, and it was almost lewdly inappropriate to see her that way, like the debauchery of the virgin Mary, despite the fact that Quinn had once been, you know, pregnant.
Brittany was close by her side, and Finn's mind spun with questions, until Mister Schue's voice broke his thoughts.
"Does anyone have their permission forms filled in and ready to go?" He asked excitedly, and Finn remembered belatedly that he had the form that Burt and Carole had filled out for both him and Kurt in the back pocket of his jeans. Kurt would have been a more reliable carrier, but... Finn had smudged some peanut butter on it, and Kurt had refused to touch it after that.
"Kurt and I are good to go," Finn confirmed after a moment, standing to hand the folded, crumpled and sweetened sheet of paper to the Spanish teacher.
"Uh," Will's confusion was apparent, until Mike and Mercedes both stepped forward to add their own signed sheets to the pile.
"Good job, guys, I'm happy to know that at least some of you plan to be joining us this weekend," he grinned genuinely, and it broke Finn's heart just a little to think about what Will would be doing over his Christmas break if he hadn't planned this.
"Mister Schue?" Artie asked softly from the side of the risers, a tone lacking confidence, which didn't sound right.
"Yes, Artie?"
"I, uh... I know that we can't rent a bus for this trip, since it's not actually a school function," he started almost regretfully, posture slumped in his wheelchair as everyone silenced around him. "And, well... I know that you, Miss Pillsbury and Sam intend to just pile everyone into your cars, but... but this thing doesn't fit in cars, Mister Schue," he reminded sadly, slapping at the wheels of his chair. "And so I... I don't think I can go."
Will bit his lip softly for a moment, the painfully familiar physical proof that he had no idea what he was doing. "Well, uh..." he started awkwardly, eyes running over the faces of his students, as he shoved both hands into his pockets.
Finn looked over at Artie across the room, sad and rejected, with his hands in his lap.
"Mister Schue?" Finn pitched in suddenly, raising his hand despite being the only one who was attempting to talk. "I... I have my license, and... and my mom's got a minivan," he started, looking over at Artie as he said the words. "I don't really know how exactly you're supposed to strap in a wheelchair, but... but there's tons of empty space and straps and buckles in the back of it, for my sports equipment," he explained desperately, feeling terrible about potentially having to leave Artie behind again.
Will's eyes brightened slightly as he shifted his focus from Finn to Artie, and back again. "Well, uh... I suppose we can take a look and see if Artie would be comfortable there, and... and you'll have to make sure that your mom is okay with you taking her van for the weekend," he started professionally, words slow and lethargic, as if the human in him just wanted to approve the offer on the spot.
"No problem," Finn nodded, grinning now as Artie smiled back. "My mom won't have any issues."
"Finn, I have some serious issues with this!" Carole yelled again, turning her back on him as she made her way into the kitchen.
"But mom, why?" Finn countered back, hands spread out at his sides as he watched his mom reach for the bottle of Root Beer in the fridge, a habit she had when she was stressed out or nervous.
"Why?" She echoed incredulously, "Why? Finn! You hit our mailman!" She reminded needlessly, because really? As if Finn had forgotten.
"Mom, that was years ago, you have no clue how much I've grown up since then!" He pleaded wildly, knowing he sounded like the whiny teenager he really was by trying to force his mom into seeing that he was 'grown up'.
"Finn!" Carole started again, eyes wide and wicked now, as her face flushed a deep red, as if she was about to explode. "I don't care how well you can drive around the block, that doesn't matter now. What you're asking is to drive in the snow, down some dirt road, when the sun is down, with a bunch of other kids in your care, in my van, Finn!"
"Kurt will be in the passenger seat, mom!" Finn threw out suddenly, a last ditch attempt at getting her to cave. "You know he's the most careful and mature person we even know, he'll be right there with me," he promised, because if there was anything more effective than puppy eyes, it was Finn and Kurt voluntarily getting along.
Both of their parents were suckers for that one.
Carole sighed deeply as she closed her eyes for a minute, hand around the bottle of Root Beer as she exhaled finally, breaking the silence just long enough to speak; "Get me Mister Schuester's phone number."
Will had held up on his threat of making them work hard all week, rehearsing for Sectionals until Mike's pop started locking for real. Santana had complained time and time again about the fact that she didn't even know a 'Valerie', and Sam and Quinn had proven to be wonderful actors.
"I'm so nervous," Brittany mumbled softly down the line, watching as the club full of seventy-year-olds didn't break their hips at all.
Finn straightened his wardrobe as the Warblers were welcomed on stage, and his silent ridicule of their uniforms was broken by a sharp jab to his side.
"Ow! What?" He turned to face Kurt, who's eyes were wide in that way that mean something serious was about to happen.
"He's looking at us," Kurt explained vaguely, gesturing toward Blaine, as he danced across the stage.
"Yeah, So? He's in love with you, remember?" Finn shrugged, turning back to the stage as Kurt whined beside him.
"And so are you, remember?" Kurt threw back quietly, and Finn's chest tightened almost uncomfortably as he remembered their deal.
"Oh," he answered dumbly, unsure of what exactly to say or do.
"Put your arm around me," Kurt supplied for him, and Finn tensed slightly as he let his eyes shift back and forth between Kurt and Blaine.
"Uh."
"Finn, please," Kurt begged softly, and Finn turned to look down the line of his fellow students, finding them all either transfixed entirely on the performance, or lost to their cellphones as they undoubtedly texted whoever was sitting right beside them.
He sighed heavily, taking a deep breath inward before letting it out slowly, as he did as Kurt asked, lifting one arm to wrap around the back of Kurt's chair, hand on his shoulder as Kurt leaned into him slightly.
It didn't feel outwardly wrong, really. Finn had long ago gotten past the point where any innocent level of physical contact with Kurt would feel awkward. But, the fear of someone, anyone looking over was almost crippling, and Finn almost physically flinched as Blaine's eyes landed on them.
"Oh god," he cursed shakily, closing his eyes as Kurt leaned into him further, body pressed along his side as the weight of Blaine's focus became an almost painful thing.
"Finn?" Kurt questioned softly, moving away from him slightly as the crowd broke into applause.
Finn opened his eyes to find Kurt smiling peacefully, looking comfortable and relaxed, before he finally spoke. "Thanks," he offered kindly, and Finn suddenly knew that the moment had been worth it.
The green room was alive with energy half an hour later, as Will congratulated them all on the win, despite the fact that it'd actually been a tie. He'd gone on and on about how winning wasn't always about beating everyone else out, and that he'd have been proud of them no matter what the outcome.
It'd hadn't taken long for the moment to be broken by the sound of the door creaking open behind their teacher, filling the room with a sea of red and black as the Warblers filed in one by one.
"We wanted to stop by to let you all know that we're pleased to share this win with you all," Blaine smiled warmly, extending a hand to Mister Schue, who took it tentatively. "You put on a great show, and to be classed in your ranks is a blessing to us," he praised cheesily, and Finn shook his head slightly as he grinned at Blaine's almost obnoxious professionalism.
"Well thank you, uh--"
"Blaine."
"Blaine, it's great to have had the chance to share the stage with you and your team," Will offered back honestly, before prompting a round of applause from his students.
"It's rare to see a club who's members all interact so well with one another," Blaine continued, clasping his hands together in front of him as he spoke. "You can really see the chemistry here," he praised kindly, gesturing between Sam and Quinn, before turning his focus elsewhere. "Especially between Finn and Kurt," he grinned, and Finn felt his stomach flip sickeningly as he realized what was about to happen.
"Oh, Blai--" Kurt started, eyes wide as Santana cut him off.
"What do you mean, Finn and Kurt?" She asked loudly, hands on her hips as tossed a look over toward the Warblers.
"Well, their relationship, of course," Blaine answered easily, and Finn swallowed deeply as he suddenly wished that he hadn't chosen to sit on the small, overstuffed loveseat beside Kurt. Fuck! Why hadn't he sat with Rachel? "I know that their romance is still new, what was it... just three nights ago that you told me about it, Kurt?" Blaine asked simply, as if he wasn't crumbling Finn's world with every word he spoke. "But, you can really see their dynamic, and I think that's wonderful," he nodded briskly, before rambling on about how nice is was to meet them all, and blah, blah, blah, yeah.... goodbye now, Blaine.
"The fuck?" Puck's voice broke the tense and awkward silence that had fallen after Blaine had shut the door, and Mister Schue didn't even bother to scold him for it.
Finn cleared his throat awkwardly, grinning sheepishly as he slumped lower on the couch, feeling Kurt's body too warm, too close against his, and he wished suddenly that Rachel had just found that damn porn in the first place.
|| PART TWO ||
Author:preferthemoss
Pairing: Kurt Hummel/Finn Hudson
Rating: PG13
Warnings: Background/past Quinn/Brittany, Tina/Mike, Rachel/Puck, Puck/Santana, and Will/Emma.
Spoilers: General series overall. Nothing major, and as long as you know who Blaine is, I'd call it good.
Words: 17,00
Summary: When Blaine starts seeing his friendship with Kurt as potential for more, Kurt fears ruining the solidity of their relationship by tainting it with the drama of a romance. Unable to reject him directly, he choses the "I'm already seeing someone" route, crowning Finn as the someone in question. Finn plays along with Kurt's lie for a while, willing to do anything for the boy who is not only his step-brother, but quickly becoming his best and most cherished friend. After a while, the lines between the lie and their reality blur, and Finn finds himself in the middle of a crisis.
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue. (Read full disclaimer here.)
Notes: Written for renrenren3 in the gleesecretsanta 2010 exchange. Thanks to corvx143 for all his help, and being my cheerleader at all hours of the night while I was ready to set this entire thing on fire. Title by Taylor Swift.
Mini-soundtrack here.
Prompts Used; Kurt-Centric, Kurt/Finn, Quinn/Brittany, Will/Emma, "Fooling around in the snow, making snowmen, having epic snowball battles and then drinking lots of hot chocolate to recover", Fake!Boyfriends, "or, you could have everyone in New Directions (having a sleepover) together, maybe during a school/field trip?", side-pairings, past relationships, "making out and cuddling that doesn't necessarily lead up to sex".
The blankets were warm over Finn's body, as the sounds of Burt clumsily getting ready for work broke the long-running silence of the night from upstairs. The basement was darkened, with Kurt's heavy blinds pulled down over the window, and Finn sunk lower into his bed as he realized he had less than twenty minutes of comfort before their alarm (also known as Carole) would pull them out of bed for school.
Turning the home on Elmwood into the Hummel-Hudson household had taken less work and drama than Finn had expected. Burt and Carole were, well, Burt and Carole, blissful newly-weds who seemed to be falling more in love each day. Finn and Kurt had worked out their differences, with Kurt giving up on actively trying to bend Finn to the gay side, and Finn surrendering into acceptance when it came to Kurt's now-innocent flirtations.
Lately though, things had been tense and awkward. Moreso thanks to Blaine than anything.
He'd been misreading Kurt's signals, putting more into it than was ever actually there. He'd stand a little too close, look a little too long, and refuse to hang up the phone without making some sort of gushy, romantic, or even sexual advancement first.
It'd been funny for a while, watching Kurt blush and stutter as he tried to handle it, but now... now it was just downright depressing.
Finn had talked to Kurt about it a few times, as they'd laid around the house, taking turns with the TV as they forced each other to sit through episodes of Gossip Girl and Disorderly Conduct. He'd explained the way he felt for Blaine, which was complicated and crazy, but the baseline Kurt had been running on was kind of quite simple, really.
He loved Blaine, truly and deeply, in a way that really would probably never change. But, it wasn't the type of love that, like, got his heart beating and his blood pumping, and... whatever else it was that Kurt had said. It was more of a brotherly bond, a dependency that Kurt was counting on. Blaine was smart and attractive and courageous and fun, and... the last thing Kurt needed was to let a half-assed romantic relationship get in the way of having a friend like that.
Finn had been confused for a while, not really understanding why Kurt wouldn't just date Blaine, already. Finn knew (hell, everyone knew) that Kurt was more than ready to start dating and doing more, and Finn couldn't exactly be sure, but he had a good feeling that from the perspective of a gay guy, Blaine was probably pretty damn hot.
But, it'd made sense to him finally, after spending countless hours listening to Kurt and Blaine ramble on and on and on about things that came in shiny boxes of varying shades of pink.
He'd never admitted out loud the method he'd used, because no one needed to know that the way Finn came to his conclusions about Kurt and Blaine was by thinking instead about him and Puck.
Puck was his best friend, had been since they were three. They used to think they could read each other's minds legitimately, and maybe, if Finn was still nine, he'd still believe it.
They had all the right things in common, and all the perfect types of differences. And if Finn were gay (yeah, living with Kurt had taken a lot of the uncomfortable sting off that word), he'd... no. No, he wouldn't.
He wouldn't date Puck, for reasons that spanned much farther than the fact that Finn would never be into dating anyone who'd fuck all of his friends. He wouldn't date Puck because he wouldn't be willing to risk what they had for what they'd never be able to count on to work. Puck was like a brother, a cousin, at least, and the more time Finn spent around Kurt and Blaine, the more he realized that... Kurt actually made sense.
"Finn?" Kurt's voice broke over Finn's rambling thoughts, startling him slightly, despite the soft tone of it.
"Yeah?" He answered back lamely, feeling more asleep than awake, even though the clock had rolled about seventeen minutes since he'd opened his eyes.
"I can't sleep," Kurt sighed deeply, voice louder now, as Finn looked questioningly up at their ceiling.
"Well, uh... that's... a good thing," he started awkwardly, "It's time to get up," he finished, in case somehow Kurt had managed to miss that fact. "Have you been up all night?"
"Ugh, most of it," Kurt moaned exaggeratedly, and Finn swore he could hear him roll his eyes. "I... Blaine wants to take me to the movies tonight," he explained softly, words almost lost under the shuffle of blankets. "And I mean, I... I kind of want to go but--"
"But last time you went to the movies with him, he kept running his hand up your thigh," Finn finished for him, sitting up straight in his bed as he felt a sick kind of kick to his stomach. He'd heard it before, in fact, many times, but who could keep count? It was always the same; Kurt would agree to do things with Blaine, and Blaine would push Kurt's boundaries in a way that kind of... made Finn get a little... angry.
Blaine was generally a good guy, Finn knew that, he did. He wasn't sleazy or slutty, or forceful at all. He didn't do things to make Kurt feel cheap or worthless, or pressure him into doing things he said he didn't want to.
Truth be told, Finn was almost entirely sure that if Kurt would say no, Blaine would drop it without ever looking back.
It was just... getting Kurt to say no that was the problem.
"Okay guys," Mister Schue's voice boomed confidently through the choir room, echoing almost uncomfortably off the mass of misfit students who'd clearly not had enough sleep. "Emma and I have been thinking," he started, and Finn wondered silently if he even noticed that ninety per cent of his sentences started with 'Emma and I have been thinking' lately. It'd gotten to the point where he didn't even try to be calling her Miss Pillsbury anymore, and truth be told, Finn kind of thought that by now... no one was really even noticing that.
"Since it's nearing Christmas, and a lot of the other teachers are starting to let their students slack before the holidays," he began, letting a sly grin slip over his face, as all of the students visibly perked up. "I'm going to make you guys work twice as hard," he finished, prompting an unwarranted string of obscenities from Santana, before Rachel leaned forward in her seat.
"But, Mister Sch--"
"You've already been working us to th--"
"Mercedes, please," Will raised a gentle hand to silence her, and Finn slumped in his chair uncomfortably as he shoved both hands into the pockets of his red hoodie. "Listen up, guys," Will prompted again, getting nothing but a chorus of sighs in response. "Emma's got a cabin," he started awkwardly, an unexpected turn of conversation that had everyone confused. "When she married Carl, he bought it for her," he explained. "For them," he corrected, before clearing his throat awkwardly. "But, as you know, she and Carl are no longer seeing each other, and he left the cabin to her," Will shrugged almost sheepishly, as if he was about to admit something bad. "And, you know, I was just thinking that... you know, there's been way too much drama and stress and... and animosity in this group lately. There's... there's no reason for that, guys," he insisted in a way that was almost preaching, as he leaned back against the piano behind him, arms folded over the dark green sweatervest he had stretched over his chest. "You all used to get along, despite your many differences. You guys used to just... get over it, you know? Life goes on, guys, no matter who hurts your feelings or breaks up with you, or asks you out, or... or sleeps with your girlfriend," he rambled awkwardly, and Finn was sure that in the peripherals of his vision, Puck tensed in his seat.
If only just a little.
"I want us to get that back," Will continued, pushing off from the piano to cross to his desk. "I want us to be strong, to be a unit, to be a club again," he explained, pulling a dry erase marker out of a drawer, before pressing it's tip against the whiteboard at the front of the room.
"School lets out this Friday, guys," he started, tone less wistful, and more business now. "Friday afternoon, I want you all here and packed, ready to go," he continued, writing the dates of the weekend down on the board. "Because Emma's cabin?" He asked almost smugly, turning to face the class, as the clock ticked loudly behind him. "It's big enough for all of us."
"So, let me... let me get this straight," Burt repeated slowly, words mumbled around a mouthful of steak, as Kurt tried and failed desperately to replace the beef with veal. "Your teacher... wants to take you out to his remote cabin in some... some backwoods dessert?" He asked incredulously, and Finn shook his head fondly at the easy-awkward banter that was taking place across the table.
"Dad, don't say it like it's the plot of To Catch a Predator," Kurt sighed almost arrogantly, stabbing his fork through the heart of his Caesar Salad. "You're looking at this all wrong," he continued, looking to Finn for support.
"Mmm," Finn hummed, attempted words lost entirely around the steak that no one was gonna prevent him from eating. "Yeah, it's cool, Mister Hummel," Finn promised, addressing his step-father by surname, despite knowing damn well he'd lost the need to do that about five months ago. What? Kurt had ridiculously effective puppy dog eyes. Finn had to have something, too, didn't he?
"Mister Schuester's definitely not like that," Finn continued, wondering why his mom seemed to have no say in the matter. "I've trusted him for a lot, and he's always come through. Plus, you know, it's not even like he'd have the chance to do anything shady even if he wanted to," Finn shrugged, eyes darting over to Kurt as he heard a choked off laugh. "Like, we all have cell phones, and Miss Pillsbury will be there, and like... there's twelve students, I'm pretty sure that--"
"You boys want to go?" Burt interjected suddenly, sparing Finn from having to continue on with his awkward and unplanned ramble.
"We do," Kurt answered immediately, and Finn nodded in reply.
Burt sighed deeply, taking a long, slow drink from his glass of Ginger Ale, before meeting Carole's eyes over the table.
"Well then... do we have to sign anything?"
Finn watched in awkward discomfort as Kurt's clothes flew by him at an alarmingly frantic pace. For someone who spent ninety-seven point three per cent of his allowance (yeah, they'd calculated once) on clothes each month, he sure did take a liking to tossing them around.
"So, I guess... you're going then?" Finn questioned needlessly, perching on the edge of Kurt's bed, as he raised an eyebrow at the framed picture of Blaine sitting on the night stand next to it. He wondered idly if Kurt believed there was a stage of relationship between 'just friends' and 'never-going-to-leave-you-ever'.
"Yes, I'm going," Kurt snapped back quickly, in a hybrid of tones that fell somewhere between annoyed and resigned. "I just... it's so confusing, you know?" He asked dejectedly, words almost a whine, as he pulled something yellow out of his closet. "It's like... I like spending time with him. I love it, actually, but he... he loves it a little too much, and I just--"
"I know, Kurt," Finn interrupted, saving his friend from having to repeat the same awkward and tormented speech he'd made at least two dozen times over the last couple of months.
"I just wish there was some way to turn him down without rejecting him, you know?" Kurt asked almost dreamily, as if finding the way to do that would end all war in the world.
Finn moved back on Kurt's bed, shifting to lean against the wall, as he stretched across the mattress to hit the play button on the CD player next to Blaine's perma-smile face. "Well," he started slowly, not having any real options planned as the sounds of Beyonce quietly filled the space between them. "You... you could ask Quinn?" He suggested finally, words surprising himself, as he tried to figure out why, exactly, they'd ever made sense to him.
Kurt straightened in front of the closet, turning to face Finn, with one hand on his hip, the other holding a pair of shiny pants that looked, like, really soft. "Ask Quinn what, exactly?" He questioned incredulously, before spinning around to train his focus back on the color-coded rack of clothes in front of him.
Finn shrugged in silence, shoulders rubbing against the wall beside Kurt's bed, as he finally realized why Quinn was the answer.
"Well, like..." He started awkwardly, because, hey... knowing what you want to say, and knowing how to say it were two different things. "Sam's been hitting on her for, like, four months now," he continued finally, eyes widely triumphant as he caught sight of the train of thought he wanted to be on. "I know he's been asking her out, and apparently he even tried to give her a ring, or something. I heard her talking to Mercedes about it," he continued, shifting over on the bed as Kurt abandoned his clothing crisis to join him on the mattress. "I don't know exactly what she did, or how she did it, but... they're not dating, and they are still friends," Finn insisted honestly, feeling more than a little proud as Kurt's face brightened slightly. "So, clearly..."
"She knows how to reject without rejecting," Kurt finished happily, smile wide and bright as he took in the facts. "Finn Hudson," he started slowly, and Finn winced playfully at the familiar tone. "You are a genius!" Kurt praised happily, as he tackled Finn to the Mattress in a hug that ended quickly.
Finn jumped slightly as the sound of heeled shoes broke his awkward focus, and he didn't give his brain enough time to think about how weird it was that the echoing click-clack of high heels that he'd long ago associated with mean substitute teachers was actually now the warning alarm that his step-brother was coming down the stairs.
They weren't girly heels or anything, just... well... Kurt had lectured Finn about fashion more than once, and apparently the wedge heels at the back of his black patent boots were 'fierce'.
Or something.
"Finn?" Kurt's voice called out across the basement, and Finn scrambled clumsily to put away all the jars of creams and lotions that he'd curiously pulled down from the shelves in the bathroom they shared.
Perhaps 'shared' was an overstatement, since Finn's 'half' of the shelves above the toilet held nothing but a razor, some shaving cream, and a bottle of aftershave he'd gotten from Puck's dad way back in seventh grade.
Kurt's half, however, was an array of colorful tubes and bottles, packages of weird scrubby things, and shiny boxes full of...
What the hell were those, anyway?
"Finn?" Kurt called out again, closer now, and Finn sighed deeply as he realized he was busted.
"Yeah, I'm in here," he called back in resignation, knowing there was no way he was going to hide the evidence of his invasion before Kurt found out what he'd done.
It wasn't like he'd used any of the stuff.
He just... wanted to see.
"What..." Kurt's eyes went wide as he rounded into the bathroom, finding Finn leaning against the sink, with both hands braced behind him on the small counter. "Are you doing?" He finished finally, face dark and playful at the same time, in a way that had Finn uncomfortable.
"I... I didn't use, steal, or break anything," Finn promised with wide eyes, because... calling Kurt 'Mister Hummel' just wouldn't work.
Kurt stood in silence for a moment, eyes taking in the clutter of nail clippers, facial masks, eyelash curlers and teeth whiteners that were currently littering the countertop behind Finn's hands.
"Oh, Finn," he sighed finally, smiling fondly in a way that let Finn know he was off the hook. "You don't need this stuff, you know," he teased too loudly, and Finn smiled crookedly as he stepped aside, watching in silence as Kurt began picking things up and putting them away.
"I... I didn't use anything, I swear I jus--"
"Good, this stuff is expensive, Finn. It's not to be wasted on boys who are already beautiful," Kurt chastised casually, before trailing off into a silence that was broken only by the sound of Finn's audible gulp.
It still happened sometimes, the flirtations that had once had Finn full of angst at the world.
They'd sit too close sometimes, reach for the remote at the same time, be the only ones laughing at each other's jokes, and... and then there were the more obvious things, like... like the times when Kurt's mouth seemed to run faster than his brain.
But, the difference between then and now was that now wasn't scary. Finn wasn't scared to walk around in his boxers, or share the couch with Kurt when there was nowhere else to sit. He didn't feel awkward about that time Kurt pulled on Finn's football jacket to check the mail the morning he was expecting his pre-ordered copy of Rihanna's new CD to be at the end of their driveway. And, fortunately, he'd learned to take Kurt's comments in stride.
He didn't mind it so much, not anymore, not really. He knew by now that they were both on the same page about what they were, weren't, and never would be. But, it was kind of like how he knew he'd never hook up with Brittany, and yet... he still kind of flirted with her sometimes anyway. It was fun and she was hot, and as long as no one was getting hurt, then... Kurt could flirt if he wanted to, and Finn was okay with that, now that he knew he wasn't expected to flirt back.
"Thanks," Finn mumbled sheepishly, face flushing softly as Kurt's did the same. "Uh, oh, how was... what did Quinn say?" He asked finally, remembering that Kurt had just come back from visiting her house.
"Oh ho," Kurt huffed exaggeratedly, as he shoved a shiny silver cardboard box into the medicine cabinet. "If you were about to ask me how Quinn was, I'd say she's doing quite well," he started, eyes wicked and excited as he turned to flick off the bathroom light, pushing Finn backwards out of the room. "Did you know she's seeing someone?" He asked smugly, and Finn smiled softly at his friend's almost alarming level of love for gossip and drama.
"No, Kurt, I did not know that Quinn is seeing someone," Finn bit the line, dropping into the armchair near the side of Kurt's bed.
"Oh, she is," Kurt insisted, jumping (jumping!) onto his bed as his voice hitched slightly. "She's dating Brittany," he dished, and Finn's eyebrows raised high on his forehead, as he shook his head slowly.
"No she is not," he denied incredulously, leaning forward in his chair, wondering only vaguely when exactly he'd turned into a gossip slut, too.
"Oh, she is too," Kurt carried on, sitting on the edge of his bed, with his legs crossed, hands folded over one knee. "Quinn's mom sent me up to her room, and when I got in there, Brittany was in bed, sick," Kurt started, words quick and fluid as he retold his story. "Quinn was nurse-maiding her, all bringing her water and brushing her hair, and when Brittany said she wanted to have a bath, Quinn went to her dresser, and got Brittany's clothes out of it," he finished frantically, and Finn cocked his head to the side, clearly missing how that was relevant.
"Finn, they're living together," Kurt explained slowly, as if speaking to a child.
"Well..." Finn started, dropping his eyebrows as he straightened in the chair, trying to put the facts together in his mind. "That doesn't mean much, I mean... we live together," Finn countered regretfully, biting his lip softly as he realized he'd brought them back to a potentially uncomfortable place.
"Yeah, well, we don't share a dresser," Kurt detoured thankfully, and Finn just shrugged as he refused to believe that his second girlfriend was dating his best friend, and his first true love was now... a lesbian?
"I wouldn't want your shiny shit in with my clothes anyway," Finn teased playfully, a reflex of sorts, as Kurt's jaw dropped open.
"I wouldn't want my Alexander McQueen mingling with your Wal-Mart, either!" Kurt countered, eyes wide as Finn rolled up his sleeves in mock menace, intending to tickle Kurt into submission, before remembering that the entire point of visiting Quinn still hadn't been made.
"So, what about Blaine?" Finn pressured loudly, almost shouting the words as Kurt cowered behind a pillow.
"Oh," Kurt sighed deeply, face falling from playful to utterly depressed in less than three seconds. "She said that she had some trouble with Sam in the beginning," Kurt began slowly, and Finn had a bad feeling that he'd be hearing all the gory details of Handsy-Blaine later tonight. "And that she just kind of lucked out, and... can't really tell me how to do the same, especially since she's never even met Blaine," Kurt lamented with a frown, and Finn slumped lower in his seat as he wished desperately the he knew how to get Kurt out of this.
"Well..." He started finally, studying Kurt's face, as Kurt stared him down. "Do you... do you think it had anything to do with Brittany? I mean... if Quinn's really dating her, I guess Sam would have no choice but to back off, right?" Finn asked questioningly, unsure if his train of thought was even a good one as of yet. "And... that's not really a rejection, it's just... choosing someone else," he shrugged easily, before moving to get up out of the chair, heading toward the staircase, because it was six o'clock.
Six o'clock was Pop Tart time.
"Finn," Kurt's voice was soft behind him, and Finn turned back to find his friend with a conflicted look on his face, a hybrid of worry and fear, as he straightened his posture on the bed.
"Yeah?" Finn answered back, standing still, with one foot on the stairs, as he looked back at Kurt.
"Never mind," Kurt shook his head slowly, slouching against the mattress, as he cleared his throat. "Go, get your Pop Tarts," he grinned without humor. "We'll... we can talk about this later."
Wildberry Pop Tarts had never tasted so bad.
"Kurt?" Finn called out softly, finding Kurt curled up on top of the white blankets on his bed, iPod playing in his ears through a pair of those Lady Gaga headphones he'd saved up for nine months to get. "Princess?" He tried again, knowing that name was one of the few that would inevitably get his attention.
Well... of the list of names that Finn was willing to call him, anyway.
Kurt stayed still on the bed, facing the wall, away from Finn, and Finn sighed softly as his eyes took in the mess of clothes and accessories around the room, a stark contrast against the clean, white frame that held the photo of the smiling Warbler; the tornado that'd caused this mess in the first place.
"Kurt," Finn called again, moving to crawl onto the bed beside him, laying down next to him, as Kurt finally pulled the Heartbeats out of his ears, turning to look at Finn, before moving to lay on his back.
"You scared me," Kurt mumbled quietly, words aimed at the ceiling, as Finn propped his elbow up on the pillow, leaning his head against his fisted hand.
"You had your earphones in," Finn countered, his mom's old-as-time version of 'I knocked, I swear!'.
"You're... in my bed," Kurt corrected after a moment, and Finn dropped his eyes as he inhaled deeply.
"I can... get out of it?" He offered awkwardly, words lifting into a question at the end, as Kurt shook his head.
The silence was awkward between them for the first time in months after that, with Finn suddenly feeling like laying there next to the boy who'd literally been writing Finn's name in hearts in his notebook one year ago was... kind of... wrong.
"What, uh... what did you want to talk about?" He questioned finally, remembering why he'd skipped out on Pop Tart time in the first place.
"Huh?" Kurt turned to look at him for a short lived moment, before tearing his focus away, letting it fall on the mirror on the dresser at the foot of his bed. "Oh, yeah, nothing, I--"
"Kurt," Finn warned, knowing what was about to happen.
Kurt had gone too long with his opinions and feelings being unheard or unaccounted for. Everyone always treated him as a write off, for reasons that Finn couldn't even begin to understand. But, he knew that it'd caused some deep-seeded issues in Kurt, causing him to feel like his thoughts weren't worth hearing, when really... Finn couldn't think of anyone else he'd rather talk to, most days.
Kurt bit his lip softly, knowing that tone in Finn's voice.
"I just..." He started on a whisper, words soft and almost shaken as he twirled the cord of his headphones around his fingers. "I was thinking, you know. About... about Quinn and Britt, and... me and Blaine, and... I was thinking that maybe you have a point. That maybe Quinn has a point. That maybe... being off the market really is the best way to let someone down easy," he explained softly, as if he was afraid to really vocalize the words.
Finn looked down at him expectantly, prompting for him to continue. "So, what are you gonna do about it?"
Kurt took a long, deep breath, reminding Finn of the time he was in third grade, and had done nothing but take breaths just like that for two minutes straight as he stood in front of the class, preparing to share his speech about Snowflakes.
"See, that's the thing," Kurt started awkwardly, rolling on the bed to lay face-to-face with Finn, who slumped down to rest his head on the pillow beside him at eye level. "I... I think I wanna tell Blaine that I'm seeing someone," he explained, hands abandoning their task of toying with the iPod. "But... he's gonna ask, you know. He's my best friend, and he's gonna want details, and I... I can't really make someone up all of a sudden, because Blaine will know I'm lying if I'm suddenly dating some random guy I've never once mentioned before. Not to mention how awkward it would get when he starts asking to meet him," Kurt rambled clumsily, words tumbling out quick and sharp.
"So what are you gonna do, then?" Finn asked softly, studying Kurt's face in an attempt to understand where he was going with this.
"Um, re... remember that time Rachel was over here, and... and she wanted to use our computer to research sheet music for love songs, and... and I ran down here first to delete all of your porn out of the history?" Kurt asked awkwardly, grinning softly as Finn flushed, squeezing his eyes shut as he laughed despite himself, before nodding.
"Well, uh..." Kurt continued finally, serious again as he cleared his throat. "I think maybe you owe me for that," he accused softly, looking like a deer in the headlights, until Finn nodded immediately.
"I do, you're right," he lied, knowing that he had, in fact, paid for twenty per cent of the music that was on the iPod in Kurt's hands. But, Kurt was his brother now, not to mention one of the best friends he'd ever had. He wasn't gonna draw the line anywhere, not if he could help it.
Kurt looked surprised for a moment, words cut off as he tried to gather them again. "Be my boyfriend," Kurt blurted finally, shaken and almost slurred, as Finn tensed on the bed beside him. "I mean, just... just as far as Blaine is concerned. I... I thought this through, Finn," he continued awkwardly, and Finn swallowed hard as he let Kurt carry on.
"I mean, you don't care what Blaine thinks of you, right? And Blaine doesn't really talk to anyone we know, and... and you and I don't hang out with Blaine together a lot, so it wouldn't even be like he'll have to see us together, just... just let me use your name when he asks why I'm bailing early tonight? And... and don't freak out if he ever questions you about it?" Kurt pleaded desperately, moving to kneel on the bed by Finn's waist, as Finn turned onto his back to face him again.
"Uh," Finn ran a hand through his hair, going over the details of Kurt's plan in his mind. It could be absolutely perfect, really, because Kurt had made a lot of good points. And as long as Finn didn't have to do much other than lie to a dude he didn't like much to begin with, he couldn't see how exactly that could be bad. But, he couldn't stop the feeling in the base of his chest, like maybe... maybe this could end in a way that would be entirely catastrophic.
In the end, the puppy eyes won.
"But... but what about mom and Burt, what if Blaine says anything when he comes over here?" Finn asked warily, feeling a bit of the weight lift off his chest as Kurt's face brightened slightly at what was obviously confirmation that Finn was at least considering it.
"I'll take care of everything, Finn, everything, I swear," Kurt promised. "No one will ever hear a word of this, other than Blaine," he insisted seriously, and Finn bit his lip softly as he closed his eyes, praying to god that Kurt was right. Because as much as he had gotten almost intimately comfortable with Kurt over the last half year, he still wasn't gay, still wasn't into drama, and would never be okay with their parents deciding to put up a wall in the basement for reasons they'd never admit to the builders.
"Promise?" He asked again anyhow, opening one eye to find Kurt looking pale and nervous.
"Swear my life on it," Kurt nodded, and Finn sighed in resignation.
"Dude, you're gonna owe me one hell of a Christmas present."
Kurt came home crying that night, face slightly splotchy as he wiped at his eyes. Finn had literally reached for his jacket immediately, more than ready to kick someone's ass for it, until Kurt pulled him into the basement, smiling softly as he stood in the middle of their room with a proud posture.
"He didn't hurt me, Finn, I'm okay," he started thankfully, and Finn felt himself physically relax under that revelation. "I'm just... I'm really relieved, and... extremely emotional because... everything's gonna be okay for me now," he explained happily, smile warm and bright as he continued on about his night, and how Blaine had been a little crushed at first, before Kurt put his acting skills to good use, and made him believe he was really and truly happy with Finn, which Blaine wasn't able to hold a grudge against for long.
And after that... it was time for Wildberry Pop Tarts.
Finn eyed Quinn up silently from across the choir room, unable to take his eyes off of the soft but unmissable purple mark across her throat. Never once had he seen her with a hickey, and it was almost lewdly inappropriate to see her that way, like the debauchery of the virgin Mary, despite the fact that Quinn had once been, you know, pregnant.
Brittany was close by her side, and Finn's mind spun with questions, until Mister Schue's voice broke his thoughts.
"Does anyone have their permission forms filled in and ready to go?" He asked excitedly, and Finn remembered belatedly that he had the form that Burt and Carole had filled out for both him and Kurt in the back pocket of his jeans. Kurt would have been a more reliable carrier, but... Finn had smudged some peanut butter on it, and Kurt had refused to touch it after that.
"Kurt and I are good to go," Finn confirmed after a moment, standing to hand the folded, crumpled and sweetened sheet of paper to the Spanish teacher.
"Uh," Will's confusion was apparent, until Mike and Mercedes both stepped forward to add their own signed sheets to the pile.
"Good job, guys, I'm happy to know that at least some of you plan to be joining us this weekend," he grinned genuinely, and it broke Finn's heart just a little to think about what Will would be doing over his Christmas break if he hadn't planned this.
"Mister Schue?" Artie asked softly from the side of the risers, a tone lacking confidence, which didn't sound right.
"Yes, Artie?"
"I, uh... I know that we can't rent a bus for this trip, since it's not actually a school function," he started almost regretfully, posture slumped in his wheelchair as everyone silenced around him. "And, well... I know that you, Miss Pillsbury and Sam intend to just pile everyone into your cars, but... but this thing doesn't fit in cars, Mister Schue," he reminded sadly, slapping at the wheels of his chair. "And so I... I don't think I can go."
Will bit his lip softly for a moment, the painfully familiar physical proof that he had no idea what he was doing. "Well, uh..." he started awkwardly, eyes running over the faces of his students, as he shoved both hands into his pockets.
Finn looked over at Artie across the room, sad and rejected, with his hands in his lap.
"Mister Schue?" Finn pitched in suddenly, raising his hand despite being the only one who was attempting to talk. "I... I have my license, and... and my mom's got a minivan," he started, looking over at Artie as he said the words. "I don't really know how exactly you're supposed to strap in a wheelchair, but... but there's tons of empty space and straps and buckles in the back of it, for my sports equipment," he explained desperately, feeling terrible about potentially having to leave Artie behind again.
Will's eyes brightened slightly as he shifted his focus from Finn to Artie, and back again. "Well, uh... I suppose we can take a look and see if Artie would be comfortable there, and... and you'll have to make sure that your mom is okay with you taking her van for the weekend," he started professionally, words slow and lethargic, as if the human in him just wanted to approve the offer on the spot.
"No problem," Finn nodded, grinning now as Artie smiled back. "My mom won't have any issues."
"Finn, I have some serious issues with this!" Carole yelled again, turning her back on him as she made her way into the kitchen.
"But mom, why?" Finn countered back, hands spread out at his sides as he watched his mom reach for the bottle of Root Beer in the fridge, a habit she had when she was stressed out or nervous.
"Why?" She echoed incredulously, "Why? Finn! You hit our mailman!" She reminded needlessly, because really? As if Finn had forgotten.
"Mom, that was years ago, you have no clue how much I've grown up since then!" He pleaded wildly, knowing he sounded like the whiny teenager he really was by trying to force his mom into seeing that he was 'grown up'.
"Finn!" Carole started again, eyes wide and wicked now, as her face flushed a deep red, as if she was about to explode. "I don't care how well you can drive around the block, that doesn't matter now. What you're asking is to drive in the snow, down some dirt road, when the sun is down, with a bunch of other kids in your care, in my van, Finn!"
"Kurt will be in the passenger seat, mom!" Finn threw out suddenly, a last ditch attempt at getting her to cave. "You know he's the most careful and mature person we even know, he'll be right there with me," he promised, because if there was anything more effective than puppy eyes, it was Finn and Kurt voluntarily getting along.
Both of their parents were suckers for that one.
Carole sighed deeply as she closed her eyes for a minute, hand around the bottle of Root Beer as she exhaled finally, breaking the silence just long enough to speak; "Get me Mister Schuester's phone number."
Will had held up on his threat of making them work hard all week, rehearsing for Sectionals until Mike's pop started locking for real. Santana had complained time and time again about the fact that she didn't even know a 'Valerie', and Sam and Quinn had proven to be wonderful actors.
"I'm so nervous," Brittany mumbled softly down the line, watching as the club full of seventy-year-olds didn't break their hips at all.
Finn straightened his wardrobe as the Warblers were welcomed on stage, and his silent ridicule of their uniforms was broken by a sharp jab to his side.
"Ow! What?" He turned to face Kurt, who's eyes were wide in that way that mean something serious was about to happen.
"He's looking at us," Kurt explained vaguely, gesturing toward Blaine, as he danced across the stage.
"Yeah, So? He's in love with you, remember?" Finn shrugged, turning back to the stage as Kurt whined beside him.
"And so are you, remember?" Kurt threw back quietly, and Finn's chest tightened almost uncomfortably as he remembered their deal.
"Oh," he answered dumbly, unsure of what exactly to say or do.
"Put your arm around me," Kurt supplied for him, and Finn tensed slightly as he let his eyes shift back and forth between Kurt and Blaine.
"Uh."
"Finn, please," Kurt begged softly, and Finn turned to look down the line of his fellow students, finding them all either transfixed entirely on the performance, or lost to their cellphones as they undoubtedly texted whoever was sitting right beside them.
He sighed heavily, taking a deep breath inward before letting it out slowly, as he did as Kurt asked, lifting one arm to wrap around the back of Kurt's chair, hand on his shoulder as Kurt leaned into him slightly.
It didn't feel outwardly wrong, really. Finn had long ago gotten past the point where any innocent level of physical contact with Kurt would feel awkward. But, the fear of someone, anyone looking over was almost crippling, and Finn almost physically flinched as Blaine's eyes landed on them.
"Oh god," he cursed shakily, closing his eyes as Kurt leaned into him further, body pressed along his side as the weight of Blaine's focus became an almost painful thing.
"Finn?" Kurt questioned softly, moving away from him slightly as the crowd broke into applause.
Finn opened his eyes to find Kurt smiling peacefully, looking comfortable and relaxed, before he finally spoke. "Thanks," he offered kindly, and Finn suddenly knew that the moment had been worth it.
The green room was alive with energy half an hour later, as Will congratulated them all on the win, despite the fact that it'd actually been a tie. He'd gone on and on about how winning wasn't always about beating everyone else out, and that he'd have been proud of them no matter what the outcome.
It'd hadn't taken long for the moment to be broken by the sound of the door creaking open behind their teacher, filling the room with a sea of red and black as the Warblers filed in one by one.
"We wanted to stop by to let you all know that we're pleased to share this win with you all," Blaine smiled warmly, extending a hand to Mister Schue, who took it tentatively. "You put on a great show, and to be classed in your ranks is a blessing to us," he praised cheesily, and Finn shook his head slightly as he grinned at Blaine's almost obnoxious professionalism.
"Well thank you, uh--"
"Blaine."
"Blaine, it's great to have had the chance to share the stage with you and your team," Will offered back honestly, before prompting a round of applause from his students.
"It's rare to see a club who's members all interact so well with one another," Blaine continued, clasping his hands together in front of him as he spoke. "You can really see the chemistry here," he praised kindly, gesturing between Sam and Quinn, before turning his focus elsewhere. "Especially between Finn and Kurt," he grinned, and Finn felt his stomach flip sickeningly as he realized what was about to happen.
"Oh, Blai--" Kurt started, eyes wide as Santana cut him off.
"What do you mean, Finn and Kurt?" She asked loudly, hands on her hips as tossed a look over toward the Warblers.
"Well, their relationship, of course," Blaine answered easily, and Finn swallowed deeply as he suddenly wished that he hadn't chosen to sit on the small, overstuffed loveseat beside Kurt. Fuck! Why hadn't he sat with Rachel? "I know that their romance is still new, what was it... just three nights ago that you told me about it, Kurt?" Blaine asked simply, as if he wasn't crumbling Finn's world with every word he spoke. "But, you can really see their dynamic, and I think that's wonderful," he nodded briskly, before rambling on about how nice is was to meet them all, and blah, blah, blah, yeah.... goodbye now, Blaine.
"The fuck?" Puck's voice broke the tense and awkward silence that had fallen after Blaine had shut the door, and Mister Schue didn't even bother to scold him for it.
Finn cleared his throat awkwardly, grinning sheepishly as he slumped lower on the couch, feeling Kurt's body too warm, too close against his, and he wished suddenly that Rachel had just found that damn porn in the first place.
|| PART TWO ||