Fic: Milk, No Sugar 2/2
Title: Milk, No Sugar
Part: 2/2
Rating: PG (language, some mild dude-on-dude action)
Characters: Finn and Will, an assortment of Gleeks, and the odd OC to flesh things out.
Total word count: ~13,000
Summary: Finn gets out of Lima, he gets a job, fame and fortune. But can he get the one thing he’s always wanted?
Part One
“Finn, you’re a millionaire!”
It took a while, but shock set in. “What? I-? Really?” And he didn’t get much further, because Kurt had his arms wrapped around Finn in a hug that made his ribs creak. And once Kurt was wrestled free, Will wrapped an arm around him in a hug that was so happy and proud and possibly just as confused as Finn felt.
“Come on,” Kurt said, grabbing Finn’s wrist and dragging him towards the car. Years of being dragged around by Kurt meant that it didn’t even occur to Finn to resist until he was being crammed in the passenger seat, and Will was still standing on the side of the road.
“The bar,” Finn yelled over to him. “Tonight!”
Will nodded, and grinned. “You’re buying!”
In many ways, Finn didn’t get why Kurt had needed to go out and find him, and drag him back. It wasn’t like anything impressive happened. Burt made them pancakes, his mom hugged him and cried and hugged him again. Kurt spent a good three hours straight on the phone, telling everyone, and passing on well wishes, and occasionally mumbling about burning all of Finn’s wardrobe. It was nearly midday before Finn managed to sneak upstairs and call his accountant.
As it turned out, being a millionaire wasn’t exactly right. It was more like, if Finn sold off every single thing that he owned, and got a really good amount for all of them, he’d have a pile of coins that would be somewhere near a million. Some stuff he didn’t actually think he owned, but then he was reminded about the not exactly watertight contract he’d drawn up for Kurt’s design homework two years ago, and apparently he did own a chunk of CJC and more than half of Voyeur, and a chunk of anything that the two companies would ever produce together.
It was crazy.
“You need to get yourself a real lawyer,” Finn was told. “Before this gets ugly. And now would be a good time to pay off your loans.”
Right, loans. Finn really needed to get on top of his mail. So that was what he spent the day doing. Calling people of his own, setting up meetings for when he was back in NY, leaving messages for everyone involved in CJC (who were all on the phone with Kurt) about the contract and how they should be looking into their own affairs.
Since when had Finn become the responsible adult?
And then it was three pm, and Finn was starving and compiling a sandwich out of every single piece of left overs in the fridge, when he got the call from Burt telling him not to fill up because they were going out for steak to celebrate. “We’re going to be partying all night,” Burt said happily.
“Burt, I’ve been up since four thirty. We’re partying until seven, and then quietly going to bed.”
Finn finally stole out of the restaurant at seven-thirty, pulling out his phone, looking at it in fake-surprise and exclaiming “Hey, I need to go meet someone.” And then he ran. He ran all the way to the bar from the previous night, and couldn’t help the sigh of relief as he spotted a familiar face, saving a stool for him at the bar.
“Busy day?” Will asked, waving the barman over.
“Incredibly,” Finn replied. “But let’s talk about you.” And they did, oddly enough. Will talked about Glee, and how frustrating it was trying to motivate people who had the talent but not the drive.
“Yeah,” Finn agreed. “Rachel pushed us really hard a lot of the time, even when you were already pushing us pretty hard. Going to college and having to motivate myself, that sucked.” Finn paused, remembering. “Some days I’d tell myself that if I didn’t get an assignment done, Rachel would yell at me. Or that if I blew off rehearsal, you’d be really disappointed in me.”
“Really?”
Finn nodded, and smiled at his beer. “Yeah. It really helped sometimes.”
“How was college?” Will asked him.
Finn shrugged one shoulder. “It was alright. I think if I actually liked studying, it would have been better. I’m not good at sitting in classrooms, you know?”
Will smiled. “I had noticed that.”
“Yeah, exactly. And, I don’t know. I felt bad because I had that scholarship and all, but I still needed loans, and mom and Burt were helping out, and it was just all this money for something that I didn’t want. But they’re probably going to expect me to pay them back now.”
“Probably. Parents are annoying like that.”
Finn looked over at Will. “How come you didn’t warn me that economics and business would be so boring?”
“Hey, I enjoyed it. It was just being an accountant after college that I hated. Besides, I think you’ve proven that we’re two people with very different capabilities. And maybe you wouldn’t be where you are now if you’d done something else.”
“I guess that’s true.”
“And you’re happy now, right? The most incredibly successful under-twenty-five in America?”
“I don’t know if I’m the most successful. I mean, look at Justin Biber, or people who also have talent.”
“What about the happy part?”
Finn looked confused. “How would I know if Justin Biber is happy? It’s not like we’re BFF.”
Will have Finn a long, patient look.
“I don’t know,” Finn said at last. “It’s fun, but it’s stressful. I mean, people want me to make decisions all the time, but they only want me to make the ones they agree with, you know? And, it’s just... everyone seems to be waiting to see what I do next. Looking for me to screw up or help them out or whatever, and no one’s looking out for just me anymore, you know?”
Finn looked down at his hands. “Wow,” he said at last. “We really failed at talking about you, didn’t we?”
“Do you feel better now?”
“I don’t know. A little bit.” Finn bit his lip, and kept staring at his hands. “I think the best part about being home as been catching up with you,” he said at last. “I mean, out of everyone who knows me and loves me, you’re the one who’s always told me to just do what makes me happy.”
“It’s my one bit of good advice,” Will replied. “I like to peddle it out as much as I can.”
“I don’t know, your advice about always wearing underpants if you dance in tight pants was also pretty solid,” Finn replied, making Will snuffle a laugh into his beer.
“These days the advice is more ‘wear a belt on stage so your stupid homeboy pants don’t fall down’.”
“Like you never wore homeboy pants.”
“They weren’t stupid when I wore them,” Will replied, and Finn had to choke on a laugh of his own. “You know,” Will said, talking to his beer, “when things get a bit crazy you can always talk to me. If you want.”
And Finn just about had the breath knocked out of him. The idea that conversations like this, that talking to Will and hearing his voice could happen all the time was just... it was like a Christmas present. “Really?”
Will looked up then, and gave Finn a small smile. “Yeah.” He wrote his e-mail address and mobile number on a napkin for Finn, and Finn carefully folded it and put it in the breast pocket of his jacket, so he wouldn’t lose it. They talked for another twenty minutes before Finn was ordered home to get a good night’s sleep - he and Kurt were leaving in the morning.
Despite the big news of the day, Will still picked up the tab. Will gave him a warm hug goodbye, and when Finn got home he totally didn’t sleep with the napkin under his pillow. But he thought about it.
The few weeks back in New York were crazy - Finn had meetings with lawyers and insurance people, and somehow he just couldn’t explain that “No, you guys can’t just agree with what I say, you need to be negotiating this for yourselves” to the CJC collective. And Mercedes kept asking him whether they should sign a contract to pledge distribution of their next act of genius with one chain, and Finn had no idea because it wasn’t like he was in charge of the ideas department, he didn’t care who distributed anything so long as no one got screwed over.
And then there was the issue of a few independents getting on bikes and cashing in on his portable coffee idea, which he wouldn’t care about except they were passing themselves off as his employees, and there may have been a fight in the middle of the street about it, and Finn just had no idea how to deal with that.
So he sent off an e-mail to Will. Just one line: I hate everything.
And then Will sent one back, containing a picture of a cranky looking cat with the exact same caption. And, okay, that did make Finn smile after a good twenty minutes of staring at it. Points to Will.
And that was how it went. Finn would get stressed out and pissed off, and he’d type something angry and incoherent at Will, and then later in the day he’d get a random picture in his inbox, or a link to a youtube video, or sometimes Will would just write back with a stupid, rambling anecdote or a fact that he’d clearly made up. Finn’s favourite was “Coconut milk can be used as a substitute for plasma in times when a blood transfusion is desperately needed. Doctors measure how urgent the need for a blood transfusion may be by rating how desperately the patient is craving a Bounty.”
Will got Finn through most of the month of December, right up until that week in Florida where everyone was going crazy, and Artie was saying “Hmm, maybe we should be hiring more staff,” and Finn’s only reply was “Shut the hell up and bag this shit up faster.”
And then they found out that a heap of their orders were international, and the website hadn’t noticed that somehow, and as it turns out posting things to places outside of America cost a hell of a lot more than posting the same things within America.
“Just... just leave it,” Finn said. “We’ll pay for it out of our pockets, and pretend that subsidising postage was our Christmas gift. We still won’t be making a loss, given the mark up on the sunglasses.”
And Mercedes had replied with, “You’re the millionaire, you pay for it.” And Finn hadn’t even needed to argue in his defence, because Kurt jumped in and did it for him. Finn could only rationalise that it was because they were all freaking out, but that led to quite the bust up a few days before Christmas, and Finn just couldn’t deal with that. He grabbed his laptop, and locked himself in the bathroom, and tapped out an e-mail composed entirely of: This fucking sucks. I want out.
Will replied within minutes with two words: Call me? and his number typed after, as if Finn had somehow lost it.
So Finn called him on Skype, and spent an incoherent ten minutes rambling and ranting, and then another ten saying “I just don’t know,” over and over. And Will just talked to him. Just asked him questions that started out as “What happened?” and slowly turned into “What’s your favourite movie?” which was a hard question to answer.
“’Planet Terror’, maybe,” Finn replied. “A prostitute with a gun for a leg fighting military zombies? How can you go wrong? But I really love crappy Christmas movies. I’m really jonesing to see ‘Love Actually’ right now, but don’t tell anyone.”
“I prefer ‘Happy Endings’,” Will replied, and then they were off for an hour, talking about movies and television and music. Finn eventually dragged the conversation back to Christmas, because despite the stress he was a sucker for the holiday season.
“I’m not really doing anything,” Will had replied. “My parents are out of town this year, so...”
“Not anything? Really?”
“Well, I was planning on going to the shops after Christmas and buying one of those gingerbread houses. And then I’m going to eat it. That’s about it.”
“What, sit under your tree and gorge? That sounds good.”
“I don’t have a tree this year.”
And that kind of killed Finn a little, because he was pretty sure that Will was the kind of guy who would fucking love to have a tree, and presents, and watch ‘It’s A Wonderful Life’ with friends piled on the couch.
“What about New Year’s?” Finn asked. “Any big plans?”
“Marking, probably. You?”
“I don’t know yet,” Finn replied. “I usually let Kurt sort it out, go to one of his friend’s parties. But... listen, keep New Year’s free, okay?”
“Why, are you going to be back in Lima?”
Finn could feel the wheels turning in his head. “Just keep it free,” he said, and tried not to feel thrilled when Will promised he would.
Artie started thumping on the door then, letting Finn know that he was in a one bathroom flat with four other people who apparently all needed to pee. He was surprised to find that he’d been talking to Will for two hours. He thanked him, and said a quick goodbye.
“You alright?” Artie asked when Finn emerged.
“Yeah.”
“Great, now get out of my way.”
They were shoving things into envelopes through the night, but there were no more arguments. Finn worked on autopilot, pulling ideas together in his brain.
Christmas in Florida was a lot warmer than Christmas in Lima, or New York, and they exchanged gifts that were ten dollars or less because that was the way it had always been. Finn booked some stuff online, and waited until he and Kurt were climbing on the plane to take them back to NYC before asking if he could invite a friend over for the last leg of the holiday season.
“You want to bring someone over? Of course! Finn, you know I worry about you. Is it Kermit? I think she likes you.”
No, it wasn’t. And Kurt took the news of Finn’s mystery guest fairly well, with just a sad look and an “Oh, Finn.”
Will didn’t take it anywhere near as well.
“I can’t accept this,” he said, he and Finn both standing in their kitchens, both holding their phones to their ear with their shoulders. “It’s too much, I can’t pay you back.”
“It’s a present,” Finn replied. “You’re not meant to pay me back. And it’s not like I broke the bank buying you a plane ticket. It’s three days, and you’ll be staying here, and it’s a crime that you’ve been to New York three times and never actually seen any of it.”
“Finn-”
“I’ve even booked everything to get you from Lima to the airport. You can’t not come now, not after all this.”
“But-“
“I wouldn’t be where I am today if it weren’t for you,” Finn said, sounding honest and a little shy. “Just... just let me say thank you.”
Will sighed, and Finn knew that he’d be coming.
The next week was spent texting. Will would be flying in on the evening of the 29th, and back out again on the first. It was only two full days, but they both had commitments, and Finn was pretty sure they could cram a lot in.
**What do I need to bring?** Will asked him, at 8am on the 26th.
**Clothes. Bathroom stuff. We don’t have a sink, so one of those would be good**
Will e-mailed him a few hours later, asking what the weather would be like.
Bright and sunny, Finn replied. Winter only happens in NY on tv.
They chatted over Skype on the 27th, while Finn was on a call with Kurt, who was two rooms over and too cold and lazy to get out of bed.
Will. Schue: What are we going to do while I’m there?
FinnyD: I don’t know. What do you want to do?
Will.Schue: I don’t know. What do you want to do?
FinnyD: Kurt said to tell you that we’re twelve years old.
Will.Schue: That’s good, it means he has friends his own age.
FinnyD: ROFL
FinnyD: Kurt says that he hates you.
FinnyD: But I don’t think he means it.
FinnyD: But you might want to make your own drinks while your here :P
Will.Schue: Can we go to the MoMA?
FinnyD: If thats a ‘yo mom’ joke you are so uninvited.
FinnyD: Wait, Kurt explained.
FinnyD: Sure
FinnyD: we can do cenral park too.
(While this exchange was going on, Kurt was making kissy noises over Skype and saying “I wub you Mr Schue!” “I wub you too, Finnegan, even though it is wrong and kind of hot!” “Oh Mr Schue!” “Smooooooch!”
Finn responded to the little audio play with “I hate you, so much. I’m serious. I’m going to pee in your shoes.”)
Late on the 27th Will asked Finn where, exactly, he lived in New York.
**Clinton not 2 far from the airport**
Given that Finn was not assaulted by flailing, all-caps texts in response, he assumed that Will didn’t actually know much about the layout of New York. To be fair, Finn had been living there for three years and he still didn’t know that much about it, excluding the traffic jam hot spots. Kurt had taken him to the Statue of Liberty for his twenty-second birthday, and then for designer cocktails at a hotel that Finn couldn’t even pronounce. Kurt wouldn’t let him buy any souvenirs, out of fear that they’d look like tourists.
Before going to work on the 28th, Finn sent Will a text asking him if he had any allergies or anything gross. Will replied that he had an extreme allergy to people waking him up at four in the morning, and the main symptoms were a desire to punch things in the face.
Finn sent him a text every half hour after that, laughing at the rambling threats and curses that Will replied with.
They sent a lot of messages back and forth on the 29th.
**The weather in Lima is miserable. Looking forward to breaking out the Hawaiian-print shirts in NY**
**Some douche tried to cut me off at work. No marshmallows in HIS cocoa**
** Marking marking marking. Ayudame**
** Do kids doing media answer questions with drawings of cactuses like we did in Spanish?**
**Oddly enough, yes. Some moron ordered a TAXI to take me to the LIA**
**Taxis are the NY way. I wanted to ease you into the culture slowly.**
**On the runway, turning my phone off. See you in a few hours**
**Safe flight**
**Flight’s been delayed. They had to jump-start the plane. Next time I’ll just take a taxi**
**Next time I’ll just send the company jet to pick you up.**
**The company shark will no doubt be busy with filing**
Finn grinned at that, and then shoved his phone deep in his pocket. There’d be a transfer at Cleveland, and then only a ninety minute flight to LaGuardia Airport, plus processing time which meant... which meant that Finn was really behind schedule. He still had underpants on his bedroom floor.
LGA was busy, people flying out after Christmas and flying back after the break, and the scramble to get somewhere for New Year’s. Finn stood in clean jeans, his motorcycle jacket, and a white shirt with the Foxy logo printed on the front in red. He held a sign with a cactus wearing a sombrero drawn on it, because he hadn’t been able to decide between writing ‘Will’ or ‘Mr Schue’. Squeaky clean, well groomed (without Kurt’s help, for once), and just a little pathetic.
And then he saw that head of curly hair and the bright grin from across the room. Will had packed light, a backpack and his old leather satchel slung over his shoulders. When he was close enough, Finn grabbed a strap and hauled Will in for a hug. It was eight o’clock, and Finn wished he’d found an earlier flight, managed to wedge just a few hours more into the trip.
Because Will was funny and dorky and clamed Finn down no matter what was going wrong.
And he smelled really fucking good.
“How was the trip?” Finn asked, after a small scuffle regarding who would be carrying Will’s backpack.
“Good,” Will replied, and left it at that.
“Come on,” Finn said, grabbing Will’s jacket and tugging him towards the short term car parking. “Our ride’s this way.”
Finn would admit that Will took the news that he’d be escorted to the Hudson-Hummel Headquarters on the back of a scooter fairly well.
“Now I’m glad I only packed the camping sink instead of the five star kitchen model.”
“You say that now,” Finn replied, jamming a helmet on Will’s head, “but wait until you see the pile of dishes I’ve saved for you to do.”
Will smacked Finn on the arm and climbed on behind him, wrapping his arms around Finn’s waist and sitting close like a good little pillion passenger.
“We’re not actually too far,” Finn called over his shoulder as they waited to pay for parking. “But traffic here is an utter bitch. Like, a twenty minute drive can take over an hour, thanks to traffic.”
“Is that why we’re on the bike?” Will called back.
“Yeah. That, and I like hugs borne from terror.”
“Why terror?” Will asked. But by then the ticket machine had eaten their slip, and Finn was pulling away from the car park and out on to Grand Central Parkway. He gunned the scooter as they merged with traffic, and felt Will reflexively tighten his grip around Finn’s waist. Finn grinned, and wove them steadily through traffic. Every now and then he’d tap Will’s hands where they gripped each other at Finn’s front, and point to some item of interest - a statue, a museum, something still wrapped with lights and fake pine. It wasn’t snowing, but there was still some white sloped against buildings. Their breath misted in the air, and it occurred to Finn a little late that Will wasn’t wearing gloves, but by then Will was unclasping cold fingers and tucking them into the pockets of Finn’s jacket, mooching the warmth.
Finn usually hated people riding on the back of his scooter. It changed the centre of balance, and people tended to wriggle around at the most inopportune moments, and Kurt had no appreciation that you were meant to lean in to a corner, just a little. But Will seemed happy to sit close, only twisting his body once, to keep the UN headquarters in view (geek).
“There should be pizza waiting in the apartment, if Kurt remembered to call,” Finn said after parking his scooter in its place under the apartment building. “I don’t know if he’ll be around much this weekend, I think he has plans with his boyfriend.”
“It’s nice that he’s found someone good enough for him,” Will replied, and Finn loved the sincerity in his voice.
Finn had to resist the urge to sweep Kurt into a bone-crushing hug when they got upstairs - the apartment had been clean when Finn left, but now it was spotless while still looking homey. Also, the apartment was toasty warm, and Kurt presented them both with mugs of hot chocolate as soon as they’d dropped their helmets by the door. Will wrapped his hands around the mug, lazy smile spreading over his face as his soaked up the warmth. Finn got a little distracted looking at it, and burnt his tongue on his own drink. Kurt smirked at him, and Finn put his mug down hurriedly.
“Here, let me get your stuff,” he said, grabbing Will’s bags. “You’ll be in my room, and I’ll be across the hall from you in the office.”
“Don’t worry,” he heard Kurt say to Will. “Finn spends most of his time in there anyway.”
“This is a lovely place you have,” Will said.
“You can thank me for that,” Kurt replied. “Finn pays for the place and I make it look beautiful. Here, I’ll give you the grand tour.”
“We’ve got five rooms,” Finn yelled from his bedroom. “It’s not that grand!”
He heard the doorbell chime, and Kurt yelled “Finn, pizza!” in response.
Over second dinner (Will had eaten on the plane, and Kurt had set a prompt dinner time at 6.30) Kurt and Finn got into an old argument about New York pizza versus Chicago pizza, and when Will laughed at their bickering Kurt vowed - for the nth time - that he was going to have to move out before he and Finn ended up married by accident.
“Kurt, you’ve been vowing to move out since I moved in,” Finn replied.
“And what an interesting correlation that is,” Kurt replied, poking his tongue out.
“If you two can’t get along,” Will said seriously, “then I’m going to have to give you both a detention.”
“See,” Finn said, “that’s the problem with university - there’s no detention. If you screw around or don’t hand something in, you fail, and I mean, you can just go and do a subject again so it’s no biggie. They should make people sit in corners.”
“Finn, you wouldn’t have taken college seriously no matter how many corners they put you in,” Kurt replied, pointing at Finn with a crust.
“That’s because I was meant for better things,” Finn replied.
“And because you have borderline ADHD,” Will added mildly.
“Yea- Hey!”
Will had brought a DVD of a few of ye olde glee performances, and Kurt had a blast pointing at things and exclaiming loudly.
“I look so young!” he gushed at one point.
“You look the same as you do now,” Finn replied. “Seriously, have you even hit puberty yet?”
“I need to put these on youtube,” Kurt said, still staring at the television. “Everything on youtube, ASAP.”
And that was how they spent the evening, with pizza and hot chocolate and old performances playing. Finn was reluctant to turn in, but he had to be up at the crack of dawn the next day. He fell asleep in the study to the sounds of Will telling Kurt where he had gotten each vid, and the sound of Kurt copying the disc to his laptop.
Finn had to sneak into his own bedroom the next morning, to grab some clean underwear. He spent a moment just staring at Will, asleep on his stomach, his face pressed into Finn’s pillow, blankets pulled up to his ears. Finn quietly snuck back out, wrapping himself up against the cold, and setting out for a crazy morning on the streets.
He brought bagels back for breakfast, and was oddly pleased to see Will sitting at the kitchen counter, dressed in the clothes from last night with his hair sticking in all directions, drinking coffee that Kurt had made and leafing through the novel that had been sitting on Finn’s nightstand for the past three months, waiting to be read. It was easy, domestic, and oddly familiar.
They spent the day doing tourist things - the MoMA, a glance at Radio City Music Hall, the afternoon walking through the part of Central Park that Finn knew (including the petting zoo). Finn let Will buy them hotdogs for lunch, with the justification that he would pay for dinner. They ducked back to the apartment to change after their day walking through the cold.
“Should I be wary?” Will asked. “You look smug.”
“Don’t worry,” Finn said. “Just get changed.”
“Wear something nice,” Kurt yelled from the study. “Like, black tie.”
“Kurt! Shut up!” Finn yelled back. He turned to Will. “Seriously, I’m going in jeans and a t-shirt.”
“Have fun, have a great night, I’m giving your clothes to charity while you’re gone,” Kurt called as they headed out again.
“I’m telling Burt you’re engaged,” Finn yelled back, pulling the door shut behind them. “Burt thinks Kurt doesn’t call home enough,” he explained to Will as they walked down the hall. “He thinks he misses out on the big stuff.”
“Well,” Will replied. “You have both had rather impressive lives so far.”
Finn shrugged. “It’s no big deal. I mean, there are heaps of people out there who do harder things. Like, being a teacher must be hard.”
“Sometimes.” Will glanced at Finn, and then turned his attention to his feet as they took the stairs down to the ground floor. “But sometimes it’s worth it.”
The warm fuzzy feeling lasted through the ride down to 10th Ave, and into the quick dinner they grabbed (Finn had gotten into the habit of just grazing through the day, and Will didn’t seem to eat much) - Thai, to balance out the Italian from the night before. It got a little chilly though, when Finn walked them to the Lunt Fontanne Theatre.
“If it helps,” Finn said, “all of the really well known Broadway musicals were sold out. But this one sounds pretty awesome.”
Will gave Finn a long look (Finn recognised it as the same one he gave his mom when she tried to buy him underwear). “What are we seeing?” he asked at last.
“The Addams Family,” Finn replied with a grin. And yeah, Will just couldn’t hold that sour face for long. They stayed in their seats during intermission, and both admitted to having a crush on Morticia Addams when they were younger. The movie version, though Finn had seen enough of the old black and white series to harbour an appreciation.
They had drinks after the show at the bar across the way, and talked and talked, and Finn almost didn’t want to go home. He wanted to spend the night watching the way Will’s face moved, the way he’d lean one arm against the table and gesture wildly with the other. He always got so caught up when he talked about music, and Finn had always found his enthusiasm contagious.
“I’m beat,” Will said as they tiptoed in the door.
“Me too,” Finn said. “I’m gonna go turn in. I’ll probably see you tomorrow, late morning?”
“Sure.”
Except Finn couldn’t tuck himself into bed - Kurt was sitting on the fold out couch in the study.
“So,” he said, examining his fingernails. “How’d the date go?”
Finn didn’t even bother glaring at Kurt and glancing warily at the doorway. “It wasn’t a date,” he replied, shrugging his jacket off.
“Why not?” Kurt replied.
Finn shrugged, and sat down at his desk to unlace his shoes.
“You’re doing something tomorrow, right? New Year’s Eve?”
“Yeah,” Finn replied. “I’ve got plans.”
Kurt gave Finn a long look. “Fine,” he said. “Don’t tell me. But I’m picking what you wear.”
Finn rolled his eyes. “You really need to let go of these control issues,” he replied. “Your obsession with dressing me like a Ken doll is getting unhealthy.”
“Don’t worry,” Kurt replied, getting up and helping Finn fold the couch open. “I’ll pick you something good. Inside or out? When do your plans start?”
“I’ll text you tomorrow,” Finn replied, dropping down onto the bed. “Now, sleep.”
Kurt gave Finn a long look, before flicking the light off and pulling the door to. “’Night, Finn.”
“Night, Kurt,” Finn replied. “Night, Will!” he yelled across the hall. A minute later, his phone beeped.
**Sweet dreams Finn**
The next day consisted of Finn getting up before dawn, riding around on his scooter supplying his coffee-teers with the basics of the trade, and then getting caught up in the same argument he’d had twice with the NY team and countless times with the Chi-town branch. He kind of wanted to carve ‘Keep It Simple Stupid’ into the forehead of every one of his staff who felt the need to start a conversation with “I think it would really help profits, if...”
Foxy sold coffee.
Plain coffee.
Just coffee.
This should not be a hard concept. But it was, somehow. It drove Finn nuts to have to go over it again, and again, and again, and he was tired and grumpy by the time he got back to the apartment.
“Hey, Finn,” Will called from the kitchen as Finn stalked through to his bedroom, shedding damp clothing along the way. “I’ve got tea brewing.”
Finn hadn’t had a cup of tea since high school, when he’d been sick and his mom had made it with honey, to soothe his throat. And so Finn sat in his kitchen, with his old Spanish teacher, drinking loose leaf tea in the warm, quiet space. He wondered how he’d managed to go for so long without the little pauses that Will brought into his life.
“Everything okay?” Will asked when Finn had visibly unwound.
“Yeah,” Finn replied. “It’ll be fine.” And Will let it lie.
They spent the day in the Museum of Natural History, which Finn mostly knew from movies. He was relieved to find out that Will wasn’t a serious museum person. He was happy to have rambling conversations that had nothing to do with the exhibits, and point out things that struck him as funny, and to wander away from the tour.
“Are we doing anything tonight?” Will asked during an overpriced lunch at a cafe near the museum.
“Yeah. I figured we’d do the ultra-touristy thing, if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind,” Will replied. “So long as it doesn’t ruin your rep.”
“I think going out two nights in a row is ruining my rep,” Finn replied. “But it’s probably not a bad thing. You’ve got plenty of warm clothes, right?”
“Lima, Finn. I have nothing but warm clothes.”
“Cool. Wear all of them.”
New Year’s Eve in Lima was always small. Because it was Lima. A few parties, usually people migrating from one to another, ending up at home with their families, or in a park with some friends and a box of wine. But New York... Finn wanted to show Will some glamour, the press of a crowd, the sheer size of a moment.
Plus, Kurt had never let Finn go.
New Year’s Eve, in Times Square. With them both rugged up with scarves and beanies and coats and long sleeves. With a backpack with a thermos, and sandwiches, and fruit cake left over from Christmas. With sore feet, and cold fingers inside gloves, and the bodies around them. The screens, and the music, and the noise. The free pom poms. The balloons.
Will pressed against Finn’s side by the crowd, staying close for the warmth.
He smelled good. He was wearing Finn’s cologne. That fact still did things to Finn’s brain, made it short out sometimes.
“This must be the biggest party on Earth,” Will yelled at quarter to midnight.
“I’ll throw you a bigger one for your next birthday,” Finn replied, loving the way Will threw his head back and laughed.
At five to midnight, Finn got a text from Kurt.
**Looking cosy. Good luck making your moves**
Finn called Kurt back, pressing the phone against his ear and craning around, searching for a flash of designer wear that would identify his flatmate. “Where are you?” Finn asked over the noise of the crowd.
“Your date looks cold,” Kurt replied. “You should do something to keep him warm,” and then he laughed and hung up.
“Thanks for coming,” Finn said, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “It means a lot to me.”
Will looked around at the crowd, a happy smile on his face. “It’s been a great holiday,” he replied easily. “So I guess I should thank you for making me come over.”
“Well... I really don’t know how I would have made it to the end of the year without you,” Finn said. “You’ve really helped. You and lolcats. And, you know, you make me kind of look after myself.”
Will looked up at Finn, a fond smile on his lips and his cheeks flushed with cold. “You’re a good person, Finn,” he replied. “I can honestly say that being friends with you is a pleasure.”
And Finn’s chest swelled inside at the word ‘friends’, because he had been so worried that Will still thought of him as a student. Still thought of him as sixteen and clumsy and gently failing Spanish.
And he’d intended to wait until midnight, to say something deep and meaningful but still kind of cool and to pull Will to him by the scarf. Instead he cupped Will’s face in his hands, marvelling in the way Will pressed a cheek to the warmth of a palm, in the way green eyes were looking up at him from so close, and he pressed his lips to Will’s in a kiss that was soft, and chaste, and so very thrilling.
Will pressed up against Finn, and opened his mouth into the kiss, and around them the countdown started.
Neither of them pulled away until they were covered in confetti, and jostled by the crowds, their words almost drowned out by the sound of thousands of people singing Auld Lang Syne.
“I didn’t get to see the ball drop,” Will said, looking around at the many screens of Times Square.
“Next year,” Finn said, pressing a kiss to Will’s ear.
They took hot (separate) showers when they got home, brushing off confetti and washing away the smells of sweat and snow. Will’s phone rang while he was busy singing something just too low for Finn to make out the words, and Finn answered it with the intention of taking a message.
“I can’t believe they’ve done this to me!” a female voice exclaimed, made thick with sniffles. “Do you know how long I’ve been working at Sheets ‘n’ Things? Over ten years now, Will. And not one stupid little promotion from sales to management.”
Finn decided to break in before she really got started. “Mrs Schuester? I mean, not Mrs Schuester anymore but... Will’s not available right now. This is Finn Hudson.”
There was a pause. “Oh. Right. Will said something about... You used to work for me, didn’t you?”
“Yes, Mrs Schuester,” Finn replied. “When I was in high school. You said I was cheap labour.”
“See? Is that not cost-cutting initiative right there? And you know how hard I can drive people. And yet, year after year, I miss out on that stupid, stupid management position.”
Finn stared into space for a moment. Terri had a way with people. And she was certainly hard to argue with. And Finn could really, really use some time off.
“Mrs- Terri... how would you like a job? In Chicago?”
“In..?”
“I need someone to manage a coffee branch there. Job starts in three weeks. And I’ll pay for the move.”
Will came out of the shower, dressed in track pants and a long sleeved shirt. “Was that anything important?” he asked as Finn disconnected the call.
“Just Terri wishing you a happy new year. And then we got caught up in shop talk.”
Will gave Finn a suspicious look, before sitting beside him on the bed. “So, what happens now?”
“Well, in the morning, you get on a plane, and go back to Lima. And after that, we call a lot, and e-mail a lot, and I’m going to have to head out there in a fortnight anyway.” Finn reached out and ran his hand through Will’s damp hair, just because he could. “Lots of visits,” he said. “And until then...” he slid his hand down to the back of Will’s neck, and pulled him close, kissing him with slow and lazy movements, loving the way Will kissed back.
“I think I can live with this plan,” Will said.
“Good,” Finn said, “because my other plan involves ninjas and clowns, and it’s so hard to get their unions to agree on working conditions.”
They spent the first hours of their new year together laughing into each other’s necks, and kissing until they fell asleep.
Part: 2/2
Rating: PG (language, some mild dude-on-dude action)
Characters: Finn and Will, an assortment of Gleeks, and the odd OC to flesh things out.
Total word count: ~13,000
Summary: Finn gets out of Lima, he gets a job, fame and fortune. But can he get the one thing he’s always wanted?
Part One
“Finn, you’re a millionaire!”
It took a while, but shock set in. “What? I-? Really?” And he didn’t get much further, because Kurt had his arms wrapped around Finn in a hug that made his ribs creak. And once Kurt was wrestled free, Will wrapped an arm around him in a hug that was so happy and proud and possibly just as confused as Finn felt.
“Come on,” Kurt said, grabbing Finn’s wrist and dragging him towards the car. Years of being dragged around by Kurt meant that it didn’t even occur to Finn to resist until he was being crammed in the passenger seat, and Will was still standing on the side of the road.
“The bar,” Finn yelled over to him. “Tonight!”
Will nodded, and grinned. “You’re buying!”
In many ways, Finn didn’t get why Kurt had needed to go out and find him, and drag him back. It wasn’t like anything impressive happened. Burt made them pancakes, his mom hugged him and cried and hugged him again. Kurt spent a good three hours straight on the phone, telling everyone, and passing on well wishes, and occasionally mumbling about burning all of Finn’s wardrobe. It was nearly midday before Finn managed to sneak upstairs and call his accountant.
As it turned out, being a millionaire wasn’t exactly right. It was more like, if Finn sold off every single thing that he owned, and got a really good amount for all of them, he’d have a pile of coins that would be somewhere near a million. Some stuff he didn’t actually think he owned, but then he was reminded about the not exactly watertight contract he’d drawn up for Kurt’s design homework two years ago, and apparently he did own a chunk of CJC and more than half of Voyeur, and a chunk of anything that the two companies would ever produce together.
It was crazy.
“You need to get yourself a real lawyer,” Finn was told. “Before this gets ugly. And now would be a good time to pay off your loans.”
Right, loans. Finn really needed to get on top of his mail. So that was what he spent the day doing. Calling people of his own, setting up meetings for when he was back in NY, leaving messages for everyone involved in CJC (who were all on the phone with Kurt) about the contract and how they should be looking into their own affairs.
Since when had Finn become the responsible adult?
And then it was three pm, and Finn was starving and compiling a sandwich out of every single piece of left overs in the fridge, when he got the call from Burt telling him not to fill up because they were going out for steak to celebrate. “We’re going to be partying all night,” Burt said happily.
“Burt, I’ve been up since four thirty. We’re partying until seven, and then quietly going to bed.”
Finn finally stole out of the restaurant at seven-thirty, pulling out his phone, looking at it in fake-surprise and exclaiming “Hey, I need to go meet someone.” And then he ran. He ran all the way to the bar from the previous night, and couldn’t help the sigh of relief as he spotted a familiar face, saving a stool for him at the bar.
“Busy day?” Will asked, waving the barman over.
“Incredibly,” Finn replied. “But let’s talk about you.” And they did, oddly enough. Will talked about Glee, and how frustrating it was trying to motivate people who had the talent but not the drive.
“Yeah,” Finn agreed. “Rachel pushed us really hard a lot of the time, even when you were already pushing us pretty hard. Going to college and having to motivate myself, that sucked.” Finn paused, remembering. “Some days I’d tell myself that if I didn’t get an assignment done, Rachel would yell at me. Or that if I blew off rehearsal, you’d be really disappointed in me.”
“Really?”
Finn nodded, and smiled at his beer. “Yeah. It really helped sometimes.”
“How was college?” Will asked him.
Finn shrugged one shoulder. “It was alright. I think if I actually liked studying, it would have been better. I’m not good at sitting in classrooms, you know?”
Will smiled. “I had noticed that.”
“Yeah, exactly. And, I don’t know. I felt bad because I had that scholarship and all, but I still needed loans, and mom and Burt were helping out, and it was just all this money for something that I didn’t want. But they’re probably going to expect me to pay them back now.”
“Probably. Parents are annoying like that.”
Finn looked over at Will. “How come you didn’t warn me that economics and business would be so boring?”
“Hey, I enjoyed it. It was just being an accountant after college that I hated. Besides, I think you’ve proven that we’re two people with very different capabilities. And maybe you wouldn’t be where you are now if you’d done something else.”
“I guess that’s true.”
“And you’re happy now, right? The most incredibly successful under-twenty-five in America?”
“I don’t know if I’m the most successful. I mean, look at Justin Biber, or people who also have talent.”
“What about the happy part?”
Finn looked confused. “How would I know if Justin Biber is happy? It’s not like we’re BFF.”
Will have Finn a long, patient look.
“I don’t know,” Finn said at last. “It’s fun, but it’s stressful. I mean, people want me to make decisions all the time, but they only want me to make the ones they agree with, you know? And, it’s just... everyone seems to be waiting to see what I do next. Looking for me to screw up or help them out or whatever, and no one’s looking out for just me anymore, you know?”
Finn looked down at his hands. “Wow,” he said at last. “We really failed at talking about you, didn’t we?”
“Do you feel better now?”
“I don’t know. A little bit.” Finn bit his lip, and kept staring at his hands. “I think the best part about being home as been catching up with you,” he said at last. “I mean, out of everyone who knows me and loves me, you’re the one who’s always told me to just do what makes me happy.”
“It’s my one bit of good advice,” Will replied. “I like to peddle it out as much as I can.”
“I don’t know, your advice about always wearing underpants if you dance in tight pants was also pretty solid,” Finn replied, making Will snuffle a laugh into his beer.
“These days the advice is more ‘wear a belt on stage so your stupid homeboy pants don’t fall down’.”
“Like you never wore homeboy pants.”
“They weren’t stupid when I wore them,” Will replied, and Finn had to choke on a laugh of his own. “You know,” Will said, talking to his beer, “when things get a bit crazy you can always talk to me. If you want.”
And Finn just about had the breath knocked out of him. The idea that conversations like this, that talking to Will and hearing his voice could happen all the time was just... it was like a Christmas present. “Really?”
Will looked up then, and gave Finn a small smile. “Yeah.” He wrote his e-mail address and mobile number on a napkin for Finn, and Finn carefully folded it and put it in the breast pocket of his jacket, so he wouldn’t lose it. They talked for another twenty minutes before Finn was ordered home to get a good night’s sleep - he and Kurt were leaving in the morning.
Despite the big news of the day, Will still picked up the tab. Will gave him a warm hug goodbye, and when Finn got home he totally didn’t sleep with the napkin under his pillow. But he thought about it.
The few weeks back in New York were crazy - Finn had meetings with lawyers and insurance people, and somehow he just couldn’t explain that “No, you guys can’t just agree with what I say, you need to be negotiating this for yourselves” to the CJC collective. And Mercedes kept asking him whether they should sign a contract to pledge distribution of their next act of genius with one chain, and Finn had no idea because it wasn’t like he was in charge of the ideas department, he didn’t care who distributed anything so long as no one got screwed over.
And then there was the issue of a few independents getting on bikes and cashing in on his portable coffee idea, which he wouldn’t care about except they were passing themselves off as his employees, and there may have been a fight in the middle of the street about it, and Finn just had no idea how to deal with that.
So he sent off an e-mail to Will. Just one line: I hate everything.
And then Will sent one back, containing a picture of a cranky looking cat with the exact same caption. And, okay, that did make Finn smile after a good twenty minutes of staring at it. Points to Will.
And that was how it went. Finn would get stressed out and pissed off, and he’d type something angry and incoherent at Will, and then later in the day he’d get a random picture in his inbox, or a link to a youtube video, or sometimes Will would just write back with a stupid, rambling anecdote or a fact that he’d clearly made up. Finn’s favourite was “Coconut milk can be used as a substitute for plasma in times when a blood transfusion is desperately needed. Doctors measure how urgent the need for a blood transfusion may be by rating how desperately the patient is craving a Bounty.”
Will got Finn through most of the month of December, right up until that week in Florida where everyone was going crazy, and Artie was saying “Hmm, maybe we should be hiring more staff,” and Finn’s only reply was “Shut the hell up and bag this shit up faster.”
And then they found out that a heap of their orders were international, and the website hadn’t noticed that somehow, and as it turns out posting things to places outside of America cost a hell of a lot more than posting the same things within America.
“Just... just leave it,” Finn said. “We’ll pay for it out of our pockets, and pretend that subsidising postage was our Christmas gift. We still won’t be making a loss, given the mark up on the sunglasses.”
And Mercedes had replied with, “You’re the millionaire, you pay for it.” And Finn hadn’t even needed to argue in his defence, because Kurt jumped in and did it for him. Finn could only rationalise that it was because they were all freaking out, but that led to quite the bust up a few days before Christmas, and Finn just couldn’t deal with that. He grabbed his laptop, and locked himself in the bathroom, and tapped out an e-mail composed entirely of: This fucking sucks. I want out.
Will replied within minutes with two words: Call me? and his number typed after, as if Finn had somehow lost it.
So Finn called him on Skype, and spent an incoherent ten minutes rambling and ranting, and then another ten saying “I just don’t know,” over and over. And Will just talked to him. Just asked him questions that started out as “What happened?” and slowly turned into “What’s your favourite movie?” which was a hard question to answer.
“’Planet Terror’, maybe,” Finn replied. “A prostitute with a gun for a leg fighting military zombies? How can you go wrong? But I really love crappy Christmas movies. I’m really jonesing to see ‘Love Actually’ right now, but don’t tell anyone.”
“I prefer ‘Happy Endings’,” Will replied, and then they were off for an hour, talking about movies and television and music. Finn eventually dragged the conversation back to Christmas, because despite the stress he was a sucker for the holiday season.
“I’m not really doing anything,” Will had replied. “My parents are out of town this year, so...”
“Not anything? Really?”
“Well, I was planning on going to the shops after Christmas and buying one of those gingerbread houses. And then I’m going to eat it. That’s about it.”
“What, sit under your tree and gorge? That sounds good.”
“I don’t have a tree this year.”
And that kind of killed Finn a little, because he was pretty sure that Will was the kind of guy who would fucking love to have a tree, and presents, and watch ‘It’s A Wonderful Life’ with friends piled on the couch.
“What about New Year’s?” Finn asked. “Any big plans?”
“Marking, probably. You?”
“I don’t know yet,” Finn replied. “I usually let Kurt sort it out, go to one of his friend’s parties. But... listen, keep New Year’s free, okay?”
“Why, are you going to be back in Lima?”
Finn could feel the wheels turning in his head. “Just keep it free,” he said, and tried not to feel thrilled when Will promised he would.
Artie started thumping on the door then, letting Finn know that he was in a one bathroom flat with four other people who apparently all needed to pee. He was surprised to find that he’d been talking to Will for two hours. He thanked him, and said a quick goodbye.
“You alright?” Artie asked when Finn emerged.
“Yeah.”
“Great, now get out of my way.”
They were shoving things into envelopes through the night, but there were no more arguments. Finn worked on autopilot, pulling ideas together in his brain.
Christmas in Florida was a lot warmer than Christmas in Lima, or New York, and they exchanged gifts that were ten dollars or less because that was the way it had always been. Finn booked some stuff online, and waited until he and Kurt were climbing on the plane to take them back to NYC before asking if he could invite a friend over for the last leg of the holiday season.
“You want to bring someone over? Of course! Finn, you know I worry about you. Is it Kermit? I think she likes you.”
No, it wasn’t. And Kurt took the news of Finn’s mystery guest fairly well, with just a sad look and an “Oh, Finn.”
Will didn’t take it anywhere near as well.
“I can’t accept this,” he said, he and Finn both standing in their kitchens, both holding their phones to their ear with their shoulders. “It’s too much, I can’t pay you back.”
“It’s a present,” Finn replied. “You’re not meant to pay me back. And it’s not like I broke the bank buying you a plane ticket. It’s three days, and you’ll be staying here, and it’s a crime that you’ve been to New York three times and never actually seen any of it.”
“Finn-”
“I’ve even booked everything to get you from Lima to the airport. You can’t not come now, not after all this.”
“But-“
“I wouldn’t be where I am today if it weren’t for you,” Finn said, sounding honest and a little shy. “Just... just let me say thank you.”
Will sighed, and Finn knew that he’d be coming.
The next week was spent texting. Will would be flying in on the evening of the 29th, and back out again on the first. It was only two full days, but they both had commitments, and Finn was pretty sure they could cram a lot in.
**What do I need to bring?** Will asked him, at 8am on the 26th.
**Clothes. Bathroom stuff. We don’t have a sink, so one of those would be good**
Will e-mailed him a few hours later, asking what the weather would be like.
Bright and sunny, Finn replied. Winter only happens in NY on tv.
They chatted over Skype on the 27th, while Finn was on a call with Kurt, who was two rooms over and too cold and lazy to get out of bed.
Will. Schue: What are we going to do while I’m there?
FinnyD: I don’t know. What do you want to do?
Will.Schue: I don’t know. What do you want to do?
FinnyD: Kurt said to tell you that we’re twelve years old.
Will.Schue: That’s good, it means he has friends his own age.
FinnyD: ROFL
FinnyD: Kurt says that he hates you.
FinnyD: But I don’t think he means it.
FinnyD: But you might want to make your own drinks while your here :P
Will.Schue: Can we go to the MoMA?
FinnyD: If thats a ‘yo mom’ joke you are so uninvited.
FinnyD: Wait, Kurt explained.
FinnyD: Sure
FinnyD: we can do cenral park too.
(While this exchange was going on, Kurt was making kissy noises over Skype and saying “I wub you Mr Schue!” “I wub you too, Finnegan, even though it is wrong and kind of hot!” “Oh Mr Schue!” “Smooooooch!”
Finn responded to the little audio play with “I hate you, so much. I’m serious. I’m going to pee in your shoes.”)
Late on the 27th Will asked Finn where, exactly, he lived in New York.
**Clinton not 2 far from the airport**
Given that Finn was not assaulted by flailing, all-caps texts in response, he assumed that Will didn’t actually know much about the layout of New York. To be fair, Finn had been living there for three years and he still didn’t know that much about it, excluding the traffic jam hot spots. Kurt had taken him to the Statue of Liberty for his twenty-second birthday, and then for designer cocktails at a hotel that Finn couldn’t even pronounce. Kurt wouldn’t let him buy any souvenirs, out of fear that they’d look like tourists.
Before going to work on the 28th, Finn sent Will a text asking him if he had any allergies or anything gross. Will replied that he had an extreme allergy to people waking him up at four in the morning, and the main symptoms were a desire to punch things in the face.
Finn sent him a text every half hour after that, laughing at the rambling threats and curses that Will replied with.
They sent a lot of messages back and forth on the 29th.
**The weather in Lima is miserable. Looking forward to breaking out the Hawaiian-print shirts in NY**
**Some douche tried to cut me off at work. No marshmallows in HIS cocoa**
** Marking marking marking. Ayudame**
** Do kids doing media answer questions with drawings of cactuses like we did in Spanish?**
**Oddly enough, yes. Some moron ordered a TAXI to take me to the LIA**
**Taxis are the NY way. I wanted to ease you into the culture slowly.**
**On the runway, turning my phone off. See you in a few hours**
**Safe flight**
**Flight’s been delayed. They had to jump-start the plane. Next time I’ll just take a taxi**
**Next time I’ll just send the company jet to pick you up.**
**The company shark will no doubt be busy with filing**
Finn grinned at that, and then shoved his phone deep in his pocket. There’d be a transfer at Cleveland, and then only a ninety minute flight to LaGuardia Airport, plus processing time which meant... which meant that Finn was really behind schedule. He still had underpants on his bedroom floor.
LGA was busy, people flying out after Christmas and flying back after the break, and the scramble to get somewhere for New Year’s. Finn stood in clean jeans, his motorcycle jacket, and a white shirt with the Foxy logo printed on the front in red. He held a sign with a cactus wearing a sombrero drawn on it, because he hadn’t been able to decide between writing ‘Will’ or ‘Mr Schue’. Squeaky clean, well groomed (without Kurt’s help, for once), and just a little pathetic.
And then he saw that head of curly hair and the bright grin from across the room. Will had packed light, a backpack and his old leather satchel slung over his shoulders. When he was close enough, Finn grabbed a strap and hauled Will in for a hug. It was eight o’clock, and Finn wished he’d found an earlier flight, managed to wedge just a few hours more into the trip.
Because Will was funny and dorky and clamed Finn down no matter what was going wrong.
And he smelled really fucking good.
“How was the trip?” Finn asked, after a small scuffle regarding who would be carrying Will’s backpack.
“Good,” Will replied, and left it at that.
“Come on,” Finn said, grabbing Will’s jacket and tugging him towards the short term car parking. “Our ride’s this way.”
Finn would admit that Will took the news that he’d be escorted to the Hudson-Hummel Headquarters on the back of a scooter fairly well.
“Now I’m glad I only packed the camping sink instead of the five star kitchen model.”
“You say that now,” Finn replied, jamming a helmet on Will’s head, “but wait until you see the pile of dishes I’ve saved for you to do.”
Will smacked Finn on the arm and climbed on behind him, wrapping his arms around Finn’s waist and sitting close like a good little pillion passenger.
“We’re not actually too far,” Finn called over his shoulder as they waited to pay for parking. “But traffic here is an utter bitch. Like, a twenty minute drive can take over an hour, thanks to traffic.”
“Is that why we’re on the bike?” Will called back.
“Yeah. That, and I like hugs borne from terror.”
“Why terror?” Will asked. But by then the ticket machine had eaten their slip, and Finn was pulling away from the car park and out on to Grand Central Parkway. He gunned the scooter as they merged with traffic, and felt Will reflexively tighten his grip around Finn’s waist. Finn grinned, and wove them steadily through traffic. Every now and then he’d tap Will’s hands where they gripped each other at Finn’s front, and point to some item of interest - a statue, a museum, something still wrapped with lights and fake pine. It wasn’t snowing, but there was still some white sloped against buildings. Their breath misted in the air, and it occurred to Finn a little late that Will wasn’t wearing gloves, but by then Will was unclasping cold fingers and tucking them into the pockets of Finn’s jacket, mooching the warmth.
Finn usually hated people riding on the back of his scooter. It changed the centre of balance, and people tended to wriggle around at the most inopportune moments, and Kurt had no appreciation that you were meant to lean in to a corner, just a little. But Will seemed happy to sit close, only twisting his body once, to keep the UN headquarters in view (geek).
“There should be pizza waiting in the apartment, if Kurt remembered to call,” Finn said after parking his scooter in its place under the apartment building. “I don’t know if he’ll be around much this weekend, I think he has plans with his boyfriend.”
“It’s nice that he’s found someone good enough for him,” Will replied, and Finn loved the sincerity in his voice.
Finn had to resist the urge to sweep Kurt into a bone-crushing hug when they got upstairs - the apartment had been clean when Finn left, but now it was spotless while still looking homey. Also, the apartment was toasty warm, and Kurt presented them both with mugs of hot chocolate as soon as they’d dropped their helmets by the door. Will wrapped his hands around the mug, lazy smile spreading over his face as his soaked up the warmth. Finn got a little distracted looking at it, and burnt his tongue on his own drink. Kurt smirked at him, and Finn put his mug down hurriedly.
“Here, let me get your stuff,” he said, grabbing Will’s bags. “You’ll be in my room, and I’ll be across the hall from you in the office.”
“Don’t worry,” he heard Kurt say to Will. “Finn spends most of his time in there anyway.”
“This is a lovely place you have,” Will said.
“You can thank me for that,” Kurt replied. “Finn pays for the place and I make it look beautiful. Here, I’ll give you the grand tour.”
“We’ve got five rooms,” Finn yelled from his bedroom. “It’s not that grand!”
He heard the doorbell chime, and Kurt yelled “Finn, pizza!” in response.
Over second dinner (Will had eaten on the plane, and Kurt had set a prompt dinner time at 6.30) Kurt and Finn got into an old argument about New York pizza versus Chicago pizza, and when Will laughed at their bickering Kurt vowed - for the nth time - that he was going to have to move out before he and Finn ended up married by accident.
“Kurt, you’ve been vowing to move out since I moved in,” Finn replied.
“And what an interesting correlation that is,” Kurt replied, poking his tongue out.
“If you two can’t get along,” Will said seriously, “then I’m going to have to give you both a detention.”
“See,” Finn said, “that’s the problem with university - there’s no detention. If you screw around or don’t hand something in, you fail, and I mean, you can just go and do a subject again so it’s no biggie. They should make people sit in corners.”
“Finn, you wouldn’t have taken college seriously no matter how many corners they put you in,” Kurt replied, pointing at Finn with a crust.
“That’s because I was meant for better things,” Finn replied.
“And because you have borderline ADHD,” Will added mildly.
“Yea- Hey!”
Will had brought a DVD of a few of ye olde glee performances, and Kurt had a blast pointing at things and exclaiming loudly.
“I look so young!” he gushed at one point.
“You look the same as you do now,” Finn replied. “Seriously, have you even hit puberty yet?”
“I need to put these on youtube,” Kurt said, still staring at the television. “Everything on youtube, ASAP.”
And that was how they spent the evening, with pizza and hot chocolate and old performances playing. Finn was reluctant to turn in, but he had to be up at the crack of dawn the next day. He fell asleep in the study to the sounds of Will telling Kurt where he had gotten each vid, and the sound of Kurt copying the disc to his laptop.
Finn had to sneak into his own bedroom the next morning, to grab some clean underwear. He spent a moment just staring at Will, asleep on his stomach, his face pressed into Finn’s pillow, blankets pulled up to his ears. Finn quietly snuck back out, wrapping himself up against the cold, and setting out for a crazy morning on the streets.
He brought bagels back for breakfast, and was oddly pleased to see Will sitting at the kitchen counter, dressed in the clothes from last night with his hair sticking in all directions, drinking coffee that Kurt had made and leafing through the novel that had been sitting on Finn’s nightstand for the past three months, waiting to be read. It was easy, domestic, and oddly familiar.
They spent the day doing tourist things - the MoMA, a glance at Radio City Music Hall, the afternoon walking through the part of Central Park that Finn knew (including the petting zoo). Finn let Will buy them hotdogs for lunch, with the justification that he would pay for dinner. They ducked back to the apartment to change after their day walking through the cold.
“Should I be wary?” Will asked. “You look smug.”
“Don’t worry,” Finn said. “Just get changed.”
“Wear something nice,” Kurt yelled from the study. “Like, black tie.”
“Kurt! Shut up!” Finn yelled back. He turned to Will. “Seriously, I’m going in jeans and a t-shirt.”
“Have fun, have a great night, I’m giving your clothes to charity while you’re gone,” Kurt called as they headed out again.
“I’m telling Burt you’re engaged,” Finn yelled back, pulling the door shut behind them. “Burt thinks Kurt doesn’t call home enough,” he explained to Will as they walked down the hall. “He thinks he misses out on the big stuff.”
“Well,” Will replied. “You have both had rather impressive lives so far.”
Finn shrugged. “It’s no big deal. I mean, there are heaps of people out there who do harder things. Like, being a teacher must be hard.”
“Sometimes.” Will glanced at Finn, and then turned his attention to his feet as they took the stairs down to the ground floor. “But sometimes it’s worth it.”
The warm fuzzy feeling lasted through the ride down to 10th Ave, and into the quick dinner they grabbed (Finn had gotten into the habit of just grazing through the day, and Will didn’t seem to eat much) - Thai, to balance out the Italian from the night before. It got a little chilly though, when Finn walked them to the Lunt Fontanne Theatre.
“If it helps,” Finn said, “all of the really well known Broadway musicals were sold out. But this one sounds pretty awesome.”
Will gave Finn a long look (Finn recognised it as the same one he gave his mom when she tried to buy him underwear). “What are we seeing?” he asked at last.
“The Addams Family,” Finn replied with a grin. And yeah, Will just couldn’t hold that sour face for long. They stayed in their seats during intermission, and both admitted to having a crush on Morticia Addams when they were younger. The movie version, though Finn had seen enough of the old black and white series to harbour an appreciation.
They had drinks after the show at the bar across the way, and talked and talked, and Finn almost didn’t want to go home. He wanted to spend the night watching the way Will’s face moved, the way he’d lean one arm against the table and gesture wildly with the other. He always got so caught up when he talked about music, and Finn had always found his enthusiasm contagious.
“I’m beat,” Will said as they tiptoed in the door.
“Me too,” Finn said. “I’m gonna go turn in. I’ll probably see you tomorrow, late morning?”
“Sure.”
Except Finn couldn’t tuck himself into bed - Kurt was sitting on the fold out couch in the study.
“So,” he said, examining his fingernails. “How’d the date go?”
Finn didn’t even bother glaring at Kurt and glancing warily at the doorway. “It wasn’t a date,” he replied, shrugging his jacket off.
“Why not?” Kurt replied.
Finn shrugged, and sat down at his desk to unlace his shoes.
“You’re doing something tomorrow, right? New Year’s Eve?”
“Yeah,” Finn replied. “I’ve got plans.”
Kurt gave Finn a long look. “Fine,” he said. “Don’t tell me. But I’m picking what you wear.”
Finn rolled his eyes. “You really need to let go of these control issues,” he replied. “Your obsession with dressing me like a Ken doll is getting unhealthy.”
“Don’t worry,” Kurt replied, getting up and helping Finn fold the couch open. “I’ll pick you something good. Inside or out? When do your plans start?”
“I’ll text you tomorrow,” Finn replied, dropping down onto the bed. “Now, sleep.”
Kurt gave Finn a long look, before flicking the light off and pulling the door to. “’Night, Finn.”
“Night, Kurt,” Finn replied. “Night, Will!” he yelled across the hall. A minute later, his phone beeped.
**Sweet dreams Finn**
The next day consisted of Finn getting up before dawn, riding around on his scooter supplying his coffee-teers with the basics of the trade, and then getting caught up in the same argument he’d had twice with the NY team and countless times with the Chi-town branch. He kind of wanted to carve ‘Keep It Simple Stupid’ into the forehead of every one of his staff who felt the need to start a conversation with “I think it would really help profits, if...”
Foxy sold coffee.
Plain coffee.
Just coffee.
This should not be a hard concept. But it was, somehow. It drove Finn nuts to have to go over it again, and again, and again, and he was tired and grumpy by the time he got back to the apartment.
“Hey, Finn,” Will called from the kitchen as Finn stalked through to his bedroom, shedding damp clothing along the way. “I’ve got tea brewing.”
Finn hadn’t had a cup of tea since high school, when he’d been sick and his mom had made it with honey, to soothe his throat. And so Finn sat in his kitchen, with his old Spanish teacher, drinking loose leaf tea in the warm, quiet space. He wondered how he’d managed to go for so long without the little pauses that Will brought into his life.
“Everything okay?” Will asked when Finn had visibly unwound.
“Yeah,” Finn replied. “It’ll be fine.” And Will let it lie.
They spent the day in the Museum of Natural History, which Finn mostly knew from movies. He was relieved to find out that Will wasn’t a serious museum person. He was happy to have rambling conversations that had nothing to do with the exhibits, and point out things that struck him as funny, and to wander away from the tour.
“Are we doing anything tonight?” Will asked during an overpriced lunch at a cafe near the museum.
“Yeah. I figured we’d do the ultra-touristy thing, if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind,” Will replied. “So long as it doesn’t ruin your rep.”
“I think going out two nights in a row is ruining my rep,” Finn replied. “But it’s probably not a bad thing. You’ve got plenty of warm clothes, right?”
“Lima, Finn. I have nothing but warm clothes.”
“Cool. Wear all of them.”
New Year’s Eve in Lima was always small. Because it was Lima. A few parties, usually people migrating from one to another, ending up at home with their families, or in a park with some friends and a box of wine. But New York... Finn wanted to show Will some glamour, the press of a crowd, the sheer size of a moment.
Plus, Kurt had never let Finn go.
New Year’s Eve, in Times Square. With them both rugged up with scarves and beanies and coats and long sleeves. With a backpack with a thermos, and sandwiches, and fruit cake left over from Christmas. With sore feet, and cold fingers inside gloves, and the bodies around them. The screens, and the music, and the noise. The free pom poms. The balloons.
Will pressed against Finn’s side by the crowd, staying close for the warmth.
He smelled good. He was wearing Finn’s cologne. That fact still did things to Finn’s brain, made it short out sometimes.
“This must be the biggest party on Earth,” Will yelled at quarter to midnight.
“I’ll throw you a bigger one for your next birthday,” Finn replied, loving the way Will threw his head back and laughed.
At five to midnight, Finn got a text from Kurt.
**Looking cosy. Good luck making your moves**
Finn called Kurt back, pressing the phone against his ear and craning around, searching for a flash of designer wear that would identify his flatmate. “Where are you?” Finn asked over the noise of the crowd.
“Your date looks cold,” Kurt replied. “You should do something to keep him warm,” and then he laughed and hung up.
“Thanks for coming,” Finn said, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “It means a lot to me.”
Will looked around at the crowd, a happy smile on his face. “It’s been a great holiday,” he replied easily. “So I guess I should thank you for making me come over.”
“Well... I really don’t know how I would have made it to the end of the year without you,” Finn said. “You’ve really helped. You and lolcats. And, you know, you make me kind of look after myself.”
Will looked up at Finn, a fond smile on his lips and his cheeks flushed with cold. “You’re a good person, Finn,” he replied. “I can honestly say that being friends with you is a pleasure.”
And Finn’s chest swelled inside at the word ‘friends’, because he had been so worried that Will still thought of him as a student. Still thought of him as sixteen and clumsy and gently failing Spanish.
And he’d intended to wait until midnight, to say something deep and meaningful but still kind of cool and to pull Will to him by the scarf. Instead he cupped Will’s face in his hands, marvelling in the way Will pressed a cheek to the warmth of a palm, in the way green eyes were looking up at him from so close, and he pressed his lips to Will’s in a kiss that was soft, and chaste, and so very thrilling.
Will pressed up against Finn, and opened his mouth into the kiss, and around them the countdown started.
Neither of them pulled away until they were covered in confetti, and jostled by the crowds, their words almost drowned out by the sound of thousands of people singing Auld Lang Syne.
“I didn’t get to see the ball drop,” Will said, looking around at the many screens of Times Square.
“Next year,” Finn said, pressing a kiss to Will’s ear.
They took hot (separate) showers when they got home, brushing off confetti and washing away the smells of sweat and snow. Will’s phone rang while he was busy singing something just too low for Finn to make out the words, and Finn answered it with the intention of taking a message.
“I can’t believe they’ve done this to me!” a female voice exclaimed, made thick with sniffles. “Do you know how long I’ve been working at Sheets ‘n’ Things? Over ten years now, Will. And not one stupid little promotion from sales to management.”
Finn decided to break in before she really got started. “Mrs Schuester? I mean, not Mrs Schuester anymore but... Will’s not available right now. This is Finn Hudson.”
There was a pause. “Oh. Right. Will said something about... You used to work for me, didn’t you?”
“Yes, Mrs Schuester,” Finn replied. “When I was in high school. You said I was cheap labour.”
“See? Is that not cost-cutting initiative right there? And you know how hard I can drive people. And yet, year after year, I miss out on that stupid, stupid management position.”
Finn stared into space for a moment. Terri had a way with people. And she was certainly hard to argue with. And Finn could really, really use some time off.
“Mrs- Terri... how would you like a job? In Chicago?”
“In..?”
“I need someone to manage a coffee branch there. Job starts in three weeks. And I’ll pay for the move.”
Will came out of the shower, dressed in track pants and a long sleeved shirt. “Was that anything important?” he asked as Finn disconnected the call.
“Just Terri wishing you a happy new year. And then we got caught up in shop talk.”
Will gave Finn a suspicious look, before sitting beside him on the bed. “So, what happens now?”
“Well, in the morning, you get on a plane, and go back to Lima. And after that, we call a lot, and e-mail a lot, and I’m going to have to head out there in a fortnight anyway.” Finn reached out and ran his hand through Will’s damp hair, just because he could. “Lots of visits,” he said. “And until then...” he slid his hand down to the back of Will’s neck, and pulled him close, kissing him with slow and lazy movements, loving the way Will kissed back.
“I think I can live with this plan,” Will said.
“Good,” Finn said, “because my other plan involves ninjas and clowns, and it’s so hard to get their unions to agree on working conditions.”
They spent the first hours of their new year together laughing into each other’s necks, and kissing until they fell asleep.