WIP - Growing Up, Falling Down
Title: Growing Up (Falling Down)
Rating: PG - M
Characters: Finn Hudson, general ensemble.
Word count: ~8,500 (WIP)
Summary: Age-swap fic. When Finn Hudson got the show choir shoved into his little ball of responsibility, he didn’t expect he’d enjoy it. He didn’t expect Will Schuester.
Notes: I have gotten massively stalled on this fic. I started it over a year ago. Feel free to throw ideas at me.
Part one
At twenty-five years of age, Finn Hudson enjoyed his job most of the time. Having never really blossomed into complete adulthood himself, he enjoyed messing around with students, didn’t have an issue with dropping down to their level, and - in all honesty - got on with his pupils a lot better than he did with most of the staff.
Especially the far-too-young and far-too-obnoxious head of music, one Jesse St. James. So, when St. James was busted for being a little too close to a student, and suspended until further notice, Finn had no problem at all with the situation. He continued to have no problem right up until he was summoned to Figgins’ office.
“Someone needs to take over Glee club,” he was told. “And that someone is you.”
“I-wait, no. What?”
“Jesse campaigned very hard to earn funds for that club, and they cannot go to waste. You will take over as caretaker for the club until such a time as Jesse is able to return to duty, or we find a new music teacher.”
“But... Glee is singing. It’s a show choir. I teach English. Not even that, I teach the dumb English.”
“So?” Figgins asked. “Songs are just words read out nicely, are they not? And you do have a history of performance.”
“Yeah. I joined a band and a drama club to impress a girl - and the fact that it didn’t work should tell you enough about how unqualified for this I am.”
Figgins’ smiled at Finn. “All you need to do is keep the students busy.”
Finn paused. “Wait, what do you mean by ‘students’? Glee has only one member, as of last week.”
“I’m sure you’ll have more after the auditions.” Figgins’ leaned back in his chair, and waved a hand. “You can’t have a show choir with only one member. Even with two, that’s just a show duet. No, now is the time to get some fresh blood into Glee, and whip it into shape. I’m sure we’ll have someone more qualified in a few weeks. You’ll just be babysitting.” Figgins smiled kindly again. “Surely that’s not too hard?”
*
“How did I get roped into this?” Finn moaned as he sat at a table in the staff room. “Can’t you get me out of this?” he asked the school counsellor. Matt Rutherford smiled, and was generally unhelpful.
“Him?” Coach Tanaka asked. “Who do you think suggested you?”
Finn glared at Matt. “Great. So what am I supposed to do?”
Ken shrugged. “Do what every other teacher does: give the kids a chance and try not to look too embarrassed when they fail.”
*
The auditions were almost a success. St James had ruled over the show choir with an iron fist, hand picking the very best and most talented in the school. Which left him with all of two students, one of which he was, well, a little too invested in. But despite St. James’ reign of terror, there were still plenty of students at William McKinley who loved music.
Mercedes Jones, who was always bedecked with microphones and boom boxes in gold and bling around her neck. Kurt Hummel, who screamed a lot of things with his bearing, and ‘Broadway’ was certainly one of them. Tina Cohen-Chang, who lived with earbuds permanently attached to her skull. Artie Abrams, who as it turned out could wail away on the guitar as well as his own vocal chords. And, of course, Rachel Berry.
Rachel Berry, who blew the other kids out of the water. Rachel Berry, who was the fire, passion, and sole continuing member of Glee. Rachel Berry, who was going to be a star.
And Finn was left sitting in the auditorium, in the near-dark as Brad wiped down the piano and slowly put away his things. The single note that Finn had taken during the auditions was, Well, at least none of them suck.
And then the door at the back of the auditorium creaked open, sending a shaft of dusty light down into the gloom, and a head poked in.
“Did I miss the auditions?”
“No,” Finn said, fishing a pen out of his backpack again. “You can be the lucky last.”
He recognised the student as soon as the lights above the stage illuminated him, halfway through an enthusiastic and ungainly crawl up onto the stage. It was the flannelette shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, that gave him away. That, and an unruly mop of curly brown hair.
William Schuester.
In some ways, the kid was conspicuous simply because he tried so hard to go unnoticed. Finn had taught him sophomore English. He was clearly bright, and sometimes bizarrely creative, and he very much tried to keep any of his peers from figuring that out. Aside from the odd Nirvana t-shirt that he wore, Finn couldn’t think of any other sign that the boy was really into music in any way.
“Whenever you’re ready, Will,” Finn prompted. Will gave him a nervous smile, closed his eyes, and began to sing.
*
The song needed drums, that much Finn knew from the way his knee bounced to provide a beat that should be larger than what Brad could manage. And Will should probably have started off with his eyes open, since he got into his performance so much more when he could see. When Finn googled the lyrics that got stuck in his head, he found out the song was “Just Haven’t Met You Yet,” by Michael Bublé.
It was a little bouncy, and at the line “And I know someday that it'll all turn out” Will’s eyes slid closed again and his mouth curved into a smile that was so warm and optimistic that Finn smiled back. His voice rose, and gained strength, and he moved when he sang, and while it wasn’t a perfect performance Finn saw something there, some spark of passion and raw talent and this odd confidence that he’d never seen in Will before.
And then Will’s voice died down, and the music ended, and Finn realised that he was being watching with a careful, guarded look.
“That was perfect,” Finn heard himself saying.
And then he found out that William Schuester had a grin that could light up a room.
*
Teaching Glee got a lot harder after the auditions were over. There was the singing, which Finn could handle. A little pirated sheet music, a little squabbling, and the kids could pretty much work themselves out. There was the dancing, which Finn had always been honest to god hopeless at, so he kept that pretty simple and encouraged the kids to contribute ideas and routines. Then there was the social interaction. That was hell.
These kids were all dorks. Finn knew that. Hell, they probably knew that. To be honest, the most socially successful of them all was Will, simply because he didn’t stand out in a crowd. Maybe that was why they fought so much - kids needed to be the best at something, even if that something was as uncool as Glee was. Mercedes and Rachel fought over lead vocals. Kurt and Rachel fought over song choices. Artie and Rachel fought over the dance moves. Actually, Rachel was pretty much the epicentre of most of the tension in Glee. But she also pushed everyone to work harder, and she set a high standard for them to achieve.
Rachel Berry, superstar in the making, was both a blessing and a curse.
“At least I have a male lead who can keep up with me vocally,” she said tossing her hair over one shoulder. “Even if he is lacking in the glamour department.”
Will, thankfully, heard none of this. He had his head bowed over a book, balancing a pad of paper on his knee, and headphones over his ears. Finn kept staring at him, thinking things over. Glee had a natural leader. The problem was that no one liked her. If someone else were on her level...
*
Finn found Kurt the next morning. By the dumpsters, surrounded by half of the football team. “Hey Puck,” he said, clapping his student on the shoulder. “Being friendly?”
“As always, Mr Hudson,” Puck replied with a smirk.
“That’s great.” Finn let his hand slip down into Puck’s jacket pocket. “Hey, Puck? You dropped your phone.” He threw it over his shoulder, into the dumpster. “Kurt, you’re with me.”
Finn waited until they were safely inside the building. “So, Kurt,” he started. “How important is Glee to you?”
“It could be a lot more important,” Kurt finally said.
“We’ve got problems, I know,” Finn agreed. “And I figure that part of the problem is that you’re all at different places, right? Some of you have better voices than others, some have better moves, and some,” here he paused to gesture to Kurt, “are better dressed.”
“Well,” Kurt said. “I’m glad that you recognise my natural costuming ability.”
“Right,” Finn said. “So in a way it’s your responsibility to make sure that we’re all on the same page with how we dress, right? Like, how we present ourselves to the rest of the school. I mean, I’ve seen you talking to Mercedes about this.”
“She has a lot of promise,” Kurt said. “She just needs some more coaching.”
“Right,” Finn said, nodding. He came to a stop, and looked down the hall. “But perhaps some people might need a little more coaching than others, you know? Maybe just a prod, even. I mean, you want to look really nice and polished when you’re up on stage, yeah?”
Kurt followed Finn’s gaze down the hall, were Will was shoving books into his bag. Flannelette shirt tied around his waist, jeans torn at the knee, and wearing a Soundgarden t-shirt that was so old even the black had faded. Will had large feet, and long legs that he hadn’t quite grown into, and his face was dominated by nose. His hair was a fuzzy halo around his head.
“You’re right,” Kurt said firmly. “My gift must be shared with the rest of the team.”
“That’s the spirit,” Finn said cheerfully, and left Kurt to stalk Will down the hall.
*
So that was part one of the grand plan. Get Will looking the part of the male lead, and he’d get taken seriously as one. Part two was a little trickier - bringing Rachel down a step. It wasn’t that Finn had anything against the girl. It was just that you didn’t get anywhere without a little compromise, and Rachel was going to have to see that. Before that though, Finn was going to need to beg to Sue Sylvester.
“I just need a few girls, just for one week.”
Sue looked down at him. Even though he was taller, even though she was seated behind her desk, she still managed to look down on him. “And why would I want to do that?” she asked. “Glee has been hacking into my budget for the past three years. The chance for it to implode - even without my cunning and grace playing a role - is simply too tempting to pass up.”
Finn took a deep, steadying breath. “Two of your girls’ are failing English. If they were to join Glee, just for a week, I could give them extra credit in English, levelling them out. If they fail, they’re off the team, and no help to anyone.”
Sue paused. “Are you threatening me?”
Finn smiled. “I owe no favour to St. James for dropping this mess in my lap. If you want to claim your budget back, you’re welcome to it.”
Sue regarded Finn through narrowed eyes. “What exactly are you playing at?”
Finn bit his lip, trying to figure out how much truth to tell. “Some of my kids are getting cocky. They have a few numbers under their belts, they’re doing okay. But I need them to see that okay isn’t good enough. I need them to see perfection in performance.”
“You need them to see my Cheerios in action.” Sue bit the frame of her glasses. “Alright. But I want my budget back, and I never want to hear even a suggestion of one of my girls failing again.”
“Deal.”
*
The two phases of the plan met - almost explosively - at the next Glee rehearsal.
The first thing that Finn noticed when he walked into the choir room was a shell-shocked Will slumped in one seat. His hair had been cut short, curly frizz becoming soft waves, and tamed into something almost stylish. His jeans were dark blue, and entirely in one piece. He’d been shoved into a short-sleeved, navy blue button up shirt. He looked up when Finn entered the room, and for the first time Finn noticed that Will had very green eyes.
“Would you believe he had all that tucked away in his wardrobe?” Kurt whispered. “It was like walking into Old Navy.”
Finn appreciated the effort. Apparently, so did Rachel. She was sitting on the seat next to Will, her body angled towards his, apparently not noticing at all as he leant away in response.
“I like your hair,” she said, smiling widely.
“Thanks?” Will gave her a cautious look, realising that more was required. “I like yours too,” he said finally. “It’s very... shiny.”
Rachel positively beamed. “I’m glad you noticed! I recently switched to a completely organic conditioner, and...”
Finn watched as Will’s eyes glazed over, and tried to repress the two urges to go and rescue his student, and to simply point and laugh at him. Finn saw a flash of red by the doorway, and turned with a grin. “Hey,” he said warmly. “Come on in.”
Even Rachel stopped talking.
“So,” Quinn Fabray said, looking around the room. “This is Glee?”
“Yup,” Finn said happily. He knew he’d be getting Santana and Brittany, two amazing dancers if his memory of the freshman dance last year was reliable. Finn glanced around, and saw the way Will swallowed when he stared at Quinn, and the way Rachel noticed. Quinn was apparently a bonus that was bordering on cruel.
“Alright,” he said. “I’ve asked some Cheerios of join us because, in short, we need to learn how to dance. The Cheerios are experts in filling space with coordinated movement,” a phrase pulled right out of Sue’s last interview. “That’s a skill we’re going to need.” He turned to the three new additions. “Any of you know how to dance with a partner? Like, waltz or something?”
“I did some lessons last summer at my church,” Quinn said, eyeing Finn with disdain. Apparently asking a cheerleader if she knew how to dance wasn’t the smartest move.
“Great. Will, get up here.” Will sat still, a stricken look on his face. “Come on,” Finn said again, waving him up. “We’ll work on that solo of yours.”
Will stood and awkwardly shuffled over to Quinn. Rachel’s gaze narrowed into a glare. “I thought I was going to be Will’s dance partner,” she said.
Finn waved it off. “Let’s see what these two can cook up. Besides, we’re going to need your voice in the backing vocals.”
Rachel’s eye widened in shock. “Backing vocals?!”
But Finn was already positioning Will and Quinn together, Will standing behind her with his hands on her waist. “What we’re going for is a really fluid, organic look,” Finn told them. “This is a playful song, so try to have fun with it. Okay?” Finn signalled Brad to hit the keys, and took a seat beside Rachel.
Finn didn’t expect Quinn to know the words, but she did. “I won’t dance, so don’t ask me,” she sang, stealing the word’s from Will’s mouth. He grinned at her, leaning in to take the words back, and the solo became a duet.
They moved well together. Will had a natural grace, a lack of self-consciousness when he danced. When the other kids were stiff and embarrassed, Will was moving in a world of his own. Even Rachel, with all of her lessons and competitions had a stiff structure to her movements, like she had planned out the most effective and emotive poses and was determined to strike them all. Quinn was the opposite - she moved her body like it was a language of its own. The stretch of the leg or the line of an arm could be an invitation or a challenge or a dismissal, and Will grabbed her hands as his body talked back. They spun and twirled, and stopped in time.
They were good together. Better than that.
“See?” Finn said, when they finished and held the pose, before breaking away - Quinn content and professional, Will blushing and grinning and looking so happy it was exploding out of him. “That’s the kind of energy we need. Everybody partner up, let’s see if we can’t get ourselves moving.”
Rachel was quiet for the rest of the rehearsal, and Finn foolishly thought that was a good thing.
*
“Okay,” Ken said, talking with his mouth full of sandwich. “Explain to me again why you thought that this would be a good idea?”
“I didn’t know it would explode like this!” Finn protested. “I figured that if we could just balance everyone out a little it would relieve tension.”
“You honestly thought that introducing some cheerleaders would make things less tense?” Ken shook his head. “I had to reschedule practice because too many of my guys were getting distracted. It’s like those skirts are poison to rational thought.”
“I figured they’d poison the guys, not make Rachel quit Glee.”
Ken leaned forwards. “You’re new, so I don’t expect you to know this, but this is very basic logic - if at first you fail, you give up and try something else.”
“Aren’t you meant to try again?”
Ken snorted. “You seen the attention span of kids these days? No, you’re lucky she stuck out the whole afternoon.”
Finn turned his attention to Matt. “What about you? Got any guidance to get me out of this?”
Matt grinned, and shook his head. Finn was on his own.
“Look at it this way,” Sue said, looming over the three of them. “You’ve got the most talented link cut out of your chain. The implosion of the club is imminent.”
Finn stared at her for a moment. “Sue, that’s not a good thing.”
“It is for me, buddy,” she said cheerfully, and walked away.
“It’s no big deal,” Ken said. “That club is like every other club in this school - it’s not going anywhere, so why get torn up about it?”
“But that’s just it,” Finn protested. “With the Cheerios on the team, more guys are coming out of the woodwork and asking about signing up. We could have enough people to compete as a show choir, and with Rachel we might even have a chance to win.”
“See,” Ken said. “That’s where you’re going wrong, thinking you can achieve something. Maybe these kids are good. So what? Good isn’t great. Hell, it’s not even good enough. And since no charges have been pressed against St. James yet, the competition is something that he’ll have to worry about. Assuming that he doesn’t throw all of the probies right back out of his precious little club.”
Finn glanced over at Matt, who gave him a sympathetic smile, and a shrug.
“Well,” he said. “This has certainly been a downer.”
*
Finn contemplated talking to Quinn, asking her to play nice. But she was busy, slamming her locker shut while Puck demanded to know what was going on.
“Maybe I want to spend some time with a guy who could actually dance with me at the prom, instead of spike my punch and try to get me into the backseat of his car.”
“Hey,” Puck replied. “I am a man of many skills - spiking punch is just one of them.”
“Yeah, well, when I need something set on fire, I’ll give you a call.”
Yeah, Finn was just smart enough to stay out of that mess.
Finn tried talking to Rachel, but she wasn’t in any of his English classes, and the only time she was alone she was also in nothing but a leotard and some pink tights, and Finn just wasn’t cool being around a student who was that close to naked. No, the flash of inspiration came to him as a flash of flannelette streaking across his field of vision, followed by the heavy thumps of a herd of charging gorillas. Ah, Will was making friends with the football team.
Finn waited until just the right moment to step out into the line of fire, and Puck crashed into him right on cue. Finn was thankful that he’d been a football player himself, and knew how to take a hit, because he stayed on his feet while Puck went sprawling. Will disappeared into a building, and was probably hiding in his own locker by the time Finn pulled Puck to his feet and dusted him off.
“Sorry Mr Husdon,” Puck said, trying to peer around him. “Didn’t see you there.”
“That’s okay, Puck,” Finn replied. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you. Let’s go.”
*
“So,” Finn said, pressing Puck into a seat. “I hear that things are a little tense between you and a certain head cheerleader.”
Puck shrugged. “Nothing a little man-to-man chat won’t fix.”
Finn leaned back in his chair. “Huh,” he said.
It took a while, but Puck eventually rose to the bait. “What?”
“Well, it’s just... No, it’s none of my business.”
Puck glared. “What’s none of your business?”
“Well, it’s just... say you succeed in beating the snot out of your apparent competition-”
“Oh, I will succeed.”
“Right, whatever. What’s to stop her from just picking someone else?”
Puck stared at Finn, uncomprehendingly.
“Look, she’s enjoying Glee, so she’s hanging around people who remind her of the fun she has.” Finn had no idea if this was true, but he figured Puck wouldn’t be out to grind Will into the dirt if Quinn hadn’t shown some interest. “You take him out of the equation, there are other guys she can hang out with.”
Puck growled. “So I take them out too.”
Finn leaned forwards, trying to explain. “But that won’t change the fact that you just don’t fit the bill.”
Puck stared at Finn, all beady eyes and Mohawk. “What, you’re saying I’m not good enough?”
“I’m saying that Quinn wants to share her interests with someone. And if you want Quinn to pay attention with you, you’ve gotta share those interests.”
Puck stared at Finn, his mouth hanging open. “You want me to... join Glee?”
“Bingo.”
*
“Do you think I should stick my kids on at an assembly or something? Get the whole school interested?”
Ken stared at him. “Do you want these kids to get killed?”
“Right. Dumb idea.”
*
Puck managed to intimidate some guys to join with him. Mike Chang had been hanging around and asking questions like “So... glee..?” for a while, so Finn wasn’t that surprised. Jacob Ben Israel was a bit of a surprise, but then Finn saw how the guy was around girls, and figured that Glee might actually improve his standing. Suzy Pepper joined too, though Finn had no idea why until one day he saw Jacob staring at the Cheerios stretching, and Suzy staring at Jacob. Ohh.
And then Finn ran though the list of names, and tallied it again. That was twelve. Twelve of them without Rachel. Okay, so they weren’t exactly good - Jacob and Suzy were more of a hindrance than a help, and Puck was too busy being manly to contribute much, and Santana wouldn’t put her phone down and Kurt wouldn’t stop sniping, and there was something weird going on between Tina and Artie, and even Mercedes and Quinn crossed swords at times. Finn wasn’t even sure that Brittany knew where she was half the time.
“Sometimes I think you’re the only one who actually enjoys Glee,” he said to Will as they stacked chairs after rehearsal. Will had his own car, as much of a bomb as it was, and often stayed back to help pack up, or to help staple sheet music, or fold costumes. He seemed to really like helping.
Will shrugged. “I like singing,” he said, pure and simple.
“Yeah,” Finn replied, nudging Will with an elbow. “I’d kinda noticed that,” Will ducked away, smiling and a little embarrassed. His face was a lot easier to see now that his hair was tamed, and he had the most oddly endearing expressions at times. “So,” Finn said, taking one small stack of chairs and adding it to another, “do you know what you’re gonna do when you get out of here?” He figured college. Maybe performing arts. Join a band, run off to LA or New York, or even Vegas. Find a stage somewhere, Finn figured, and make it his own.
So he was completely unprepared for Will’s response of “I’m going to be an accountant.”
Finn laughed, and then had to work through that completely awkward moment when he realised that it wasn’t a joke. “Wait, seriously?”
Will shrugged, stacking more chairs. “My dad thinks I’d be good at it.”
Finn stared at Will, his dancer’s legs and graceful movements, those big green eyes that were trying so hard to look enthusiastic and completely and utterly failing. Someone actually thought that sticking this kid in a cubicle was a good idea?
“Oh,” Finn said at last. “I figured that you’d keep with the singing. Since you’re so good at it.”
Will looked away, moving chairs and keeping busy. “I’m not that good,” he said.
“You really are,” Finn replied, and he waited until Will looked up at him to offer a gentle, encouraging smile. “Promise me you’ll at least think about it.”
Will looked away again. “Yeah, okay.”
And Finn was pretty certain that he wouldn’t, not seriously. The realisation hurt more than he expected.
*
Will became Finn’s secret project. Not in a weird way, or anything. Finn was just, you know, curious. He fleeced Matt at poker until he agreed to let Finn take a peak in the student files. He found out that Will had lived in four different houses during the course of his schooling, though all were in or around Lima. His parents hadn’t been to a parent-teacher night in several years. He was a straight A student right across the board. He even found a handwriting sample from primary school, of Will writing about going to tap lessons. Finn didn’t know what was cuter - the picture an eight year old Will had drawn of himself wearing a top hat, or the fact that Will’s handwriting hadn’t changed all that much.
He went back through the yearbooks, and managed to pinpoint the moment that Will had seen a photo of Kurt Cobain and decided to embrace the part of the nineties that he hadn’t actually been alive for. He looked at the way Will always had his head tilted down a little in photos. As a little kid it was shy and adorable. As a teen it was an awkward cringe. And that was what puzzled Finn.
Will came from a good family. Hell, they even had some money, which was a feat in Lima. He was bright, and keen, and good looking - for a teeny tiny sixteen year old, that is. So why the hell was he always pressing up against the walls, trying to be invisible? Why was it that he only really shone when he was singing?
Finn just couldn’t figure it out.
Part two
As it turned out, Finn didn’t need to fix the Rachel problem - she made the first move herself.
“I hear that you’ve got twelve members now.”
“Yeah,” Will said, pulling novels off the shelf, glancing at the back cover, and sticking them back. “Yeah, we’re talking about throwing something together for invitationals.”
“Why?” Rachel said, lifting her head high. “You won’t win. You’re not good enough.”
Will shrugged easily. “It’s not about winning.” He glanced up at Rachel. “Haven’t you ever done something just because it’s fun?”
“No,” Rachel replied. “I have a very busy schedule, and I don’t have time to be distracted from my goals. I’m going to be a star, you know.”
“I know,” Will replied quietly. “But what’s the point of being great at something if you don’t love what you’re doing?”
“I...” Rachel faltered. “I do love it,” she insisted. “Singing makes me feel... it makes me feel important. It makes me feel special.”
“Maybe you could find some time to sing with us again,” Will said eventually. “And maybe it’ll even make you happy.”
Finn snuck away from them as quietly as he could. If teens spent less time making out in the stacks, and more time playing out a soap opera, he might actually spend more time in the library.
*
So, Rachel was back on the team, bringing the number up to an unlucky thirteen. Finn cringed a little. He suddenly had a lot of kids to deal with. And that plan of bringing them all up to the same level? That really hadn’t worked. Mike was a fantastic dancer, but an average singer. Puck was a good singer, but too stiff as a dancer. Jacob and Suzy... well, they tried. Artie, jeeze. The kid was a great singer, and so enthusiastic, but Finn honestly had no idea what to do with him half the time. And he never knew whether to put Kurt with the boys or the girls. At least Tina had stopped stuttering for the most part. And Mercedes had stopped threatening to cut people.
Finn set Mike and Will the challenge of choreographing Artie, and that seemed to be working. He got Rachel and Mercedes to take turns coaching the weaker links. He got the Cheerios to organise some basic movements that no one could mess up. After a month of sweat and tears, he actually had the kids teaching themselves, which he couldn’t believe. Throw them some sheet music and they just ate it up, spent a while digesting, and eventually spat out another number to stash away in their repertoire. It was amazing. They were amazing.
And, of course, eventually someone noticed.
“I thought I might stop by,” he said. “See if the group was up to my standards.” Bryan Ryan. Blond, arrogant, a total douche. And, apparently, vocally inclined. He was a senior, and Finn could only assume that he was signing up because he’d realised the end was near and he needed a feather in his cap to get into some kind of good university. Finn’s policy was to let anyone who applied join, and Bryan was the first time he regretted it.
He strode across the choir room, and Will stepped back to accommodate him, stepped right out of the leading male spot and let Bryan take his place without even a sign of a protest. Bryan took Rachel’s hand, and smiled at her. “Okay,” he said. “Let’s take it from the top.”
*
“It’s driving me nuts,” Finn said over lunch. “I finally got him coming out of his shell a little. He had friends, and music, and all of this talent pouring out of him. And then this d-bag comes along and it’s like two months never happened.”
“Welcome to the real world,” Ken said. “Apparently we’ve been expecting you.”
“I can’t kick him out without risk of a law suit - yes, Ken, I have learned some things from the sports teams. I can’t stick him in the back row because he won’t let me. I can’t even rally the other kids against him because for the first time they think they have a chance in the competition.”
Ken stared at Finn for a long moment. “Were your teachers this manipulative?” he finally asked. “Maybe you should get a puppy or an ant farm or something.”
“My super doesn’t allow pets,” Finn replied absently. “There has to be something I can do.”
Ken shrugged, and picked up his sandwich. “Just leave it be. If the kid wants the spotlight, he can fight for it in his own time.”
Finn’s eye brightened. “Of course,” he said. “I’ll make him fight for it.”
Ken looked over at Matt. “How did you not strangle him during high school?”
*
“Alright, you two are going to have to fight it out for the next male lead,” Finn said with a wild smile.
“Oh, no, that’s okay. I’m sure Bryan can-”
“Bryan can’t take every solo. Firstly, we want to showcase all of our talent. Secondly, it’s probably not great for his voice. And thirdly, I’m a sucker for spontaneous duets.”
“A real-life diva-off,” Mercedes said, her face splitting into a grin. “Nice.”
“Place your bets now,” Kurt said, folding his arms over his chest. “Because I have a feeling we’ll be left with only one man standing.”
Will was already backing away, when Finn grabbed him by the shoulder. “Come on,” he said softly. “You’ve got the voice to cream this guy. Show him what you’ve got, okay?” He squeezed Will’s shoulder, and shoved him back to the centre of the floor.
Will looked Bryan up and down. “Areosmith?” he suggested.
Bryan grinned, leaning close. “What it Takes,” he replied.
Will pulled a face, but nodded in agreement. Artie got some chords up on the screen of his laptop, and Finn took the chance to commandeer the drum kit. This time, Will was damn well going to have the beat he deserved.
Will got the first lines. “There goes my old girlfriend, there's another diamond ring,” his voice a little uncertain, but then something in his face hardened, and he leaned forwards into Bryan’s space. “And, uh, all those late night promises I guess they don't mean a thing”.
Bryan got the next four lines, a perfect chance to showboat his vocal skills. He delivered his lines with a smirk and a sneer, stalking forwards and pushing Will back a step.
“I used to feel your fire,
But now it's cold inside.”
Will took command of the first chorus, his voice getting stronger, and a little gritty.
“Tell me what it takes to let you go
Tell me how the pain's supposed to go
Tell me how it is that you can sleep in the night.”
Bryan cut in, stealing the line, “Without thinking you lost everything that was good in your life to the toss of the dice?”
But Will fought back and delivered the last “Tell me what it takes to let you go,” with a kind of raw anger that Finn hadn’t heard before.
Bryan was all smirk and strut, his confidence filling the space even through his eyes were locked on Will. “Girl, before I met you I was F.I.N.E. Fine,
but your love made me a prisoner, yeah my heart's been doing time.
You spent me up like money, then you hung me out to dry.”
Will pushed back, his face contorting into an odd sneer as he belted out the lines. “It was easy to keep all your lies in disguise, ‘cause you had me in deep with the devil in your eyes.”
For the first time, Finn started to wonder if maybe there was something else going on there.
They battled it out and, as much as they were competing, Finn couldn’t deny that they were working together in their own odd way. Will cared about the music too much and Bryan was too invested in the performance for one to leave the other without backing vocals, without taking the chance to let their voices soar out and twine together. They were nose to nose, chests heaving and voices ripping out of their chests.
And when the song was over they stayed like that for a long moment, pressed close and hostile, glaring at each other. A private moment that neither was quite willing to break.
“Wow,” Mercedes said, breaking the silence.
“Oh my,” Kurt replied. “I think I came.”
“That was aw-aw-aw-awesome.”
“Well?” Bryan asked, giving Will a dismissive look up and down. “Who won?”
Finn took a moment to pick his jaw up off the floor. “Take five, guys. Then we’ll put it to a vote.”
In the end, the vote was as much about popularity as it was talent. Quinn voted for Will, so Puck voted for Bryan. Kurt, Artie, Tina and Mercedes voted for Will out of some kind of solidarity, while Mike, Jacob, Santana and Brittany voted for Bryan. Suzy and Rachel were on the fence.
“I really don’t know,” Suzy said. “I mean, I don’t know much about music, and they were both good. I’ll sit this one out.”
Rachel looked back and forth between the two of them - Bryan’s charming grin, and Will staring at his feet. Her eyes locked onto Bryan’s face, and his grin widened a tad. “Will,” she said at last. “I vote for Will.”
Finn tried not to sag in relief. “Good job you guys. Wow, that was close. Okay, guys, here are your parts. Let’s see if we can get this learnt by next week...” Finn split people up and set them for work, and then just took a moment to slump against a wall and fan himself.
He didn’t know what he’d expected, but it hadn’t been that.
*
“Look, I’m clearly the best singer-”
“You’re clearly not,” Finn replied. “Look, Bryan, we’ve had this talk over and over, and having it again isn’t going to change things. Maybe you should be making the best of your own songs, instead of trying to steal someone else’s.”
“He can’t handle it,” Bryan insisted.
Finn looked up from his marking. “Really? Because you look like the one who isn’t handling this very well.”
“It’s not fair.”
“No, you know what? What isn’t fair is you pushing this decision all the time. Glee is a team sport. That means working together. It means sharing. It means compromise. This isn’t the Bryan Ryan Extravaganza and Buffet, and it isn’t going to be, and if that’s what you want you may as well grab your bat and ball and go home. Understand?” Bryan glared, a truly hideous sulk. “Understand?” Finn pressed.
“I understand that you’re ruining our one chance of winning, my one chance!”
Bryan turned on his heel and stormed out, and Finn took the moment of peace to bury his head in his hands. He couldn’t wait for that kid to graduate. A timid knock made him lift his head, and focus on the present.
“Will? Hey, come in.”
Will stepped awkwardly into Finn’s office, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. Kurt’s spit-shine was starting to wear off, Will was retreating back into his faded teenage camouflage. “Look,” he said, not quite meeting Finn’s eyes. “Just give him the solos. I mean, there’ll be other years, right? And he is graduating. It’s no big deal.”
“It is a big deal,” Finn insisted. “I’ve seen you when you sing. You’re amazing. You deserve the chance to be amazing.”
Will looked at Finn from under his lashes. His expression was undecipherable to Finn, but those big green eyes cut right through him. “You really think so?” Will asked softly.
“Yeah,” Finn said, wondering what this moment that was stretching between them meant. He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. “I know so.”
Will smiled, small and brilliant, and turned his gaze down. Embarrassed and cute and, when he looked up at Finn again from under those long, long eyelashes, he was almost... coy. “That means a lot to me,” he said.
“Well... good. I guess. I’ve got stuff to do and-”
“Yeah,” Will was saying. “Right.”
“See you in Glee.”
Will smiled again. “Right.”
Finn wasn’t sure what made him open his mouth, but before Will had even turned to leave the words tumbled out of his mouth. “Is there anything going on that I should know about? With you and Bryan?”
And Will’s lovely expressive face snapped closed. “No,” he said.
He was a terrible liar.
*
“So two kids hate each other? Big deal. Look, why don’t you come out this weekend, have some beers, watch the game, and not obsess over your students. It’s getting a little creepy, you know.”
Finn completely ignored Ken’s words of advice. “I just don’t get it. I mean, he’s a senior, Will’s a junior. They shouldn’t even know each other. What’s going on with them?”
“Were your teachers this interfering?” Ken asked, picking at Finn’s bag of chips. “Because I’m pretty sure that if you interfere with kids too much, you go to jail.” Ken and Matt bumped fists, but Finn kept staring into space, trying to work it all out. Ken cleared his throat awkwardly. “Speaking of interfering, you won’t guess who’s coming back to school.”
That got Finn’s attention. He looked over at Ken, and the way Ken wouldn’t quite meet his eyes. “Not St. James?”
Ken shrugged. “No charges, no proof. It’s a bit much to end a guy’s career over some allegations, you know? He’s ‘on leave’ for another month. Then, I guess he’ll be picking up where he left off.”
“Great,” Finn sighed. “Just great.”
*
Glee was certainly interesting for a while. Finn figured he could write a paper on it. Bryan stepped up to the plate, and Will stepped down. Bryan stared intensely at a girl, they giggled and looked away. Bryan told someone they did a good job, they glowed with pride. But, as far as Finn could figure out, most of Glee thought he was a jerk. Finn certainly thought he was a jerk. He’d rile Rachel up with criticism and then level her out with promises and praise, and then he’d turn right around and slip into some moves with Quinn, and everyone could see he was playing the two off against each other. And then there was whatever was going on with Will. Finn still had no idea what that was, but every now and then he’d glace over at the boy, and see him watching Bryan with a blank, sad expression on his face.
Interesting indeed.
*
Things took a change for the... Finn didn’t know if it was for better or worse. But it was Thursday, after Glee, and he’d finished sorting out sheet music and collecting assignments to be marked from his office, and he walked outside to the pouring rain, and Will kicking the wheel of his car.
“Car trouble?” Finn asked, hunkering down into his jacket. Will was already drenched.
“Won’t start,” Will replied. “My dad can fix it, but I’ve got to get home and tell him first.”
Finn knew where Will lived (he wasn’t a stalker, despite what Matt said. He was just... prepared), so it was easy as anything for him to ask “Do you need a lift?”
Will looked up at him with big, green eyes. “Really?”
“Sure,” Finn replied. “You ever been on a scooter before?”
Will hadn’t, but it wasn’t exactly a hard beast to ride. Finn jammed his helmet on Will’s head, sat the kid on the back of the scooter, arranged his own bag on his lap, and wrapped Will’s arms around his waist. It had been a while since Finn had ridden with a passenger, and Will was certainly a little jumpy at first. But eventually he learned to lean with Finn’s body into the corners. And while Finn was constantly blinking rain out of his eyes, and his face was numb, well, at least Will kept his back toasty warm.
Will lived in a two storey house, white on the outside with red brick corners. It made Finn remember his own teenage years in Lima, riding through these streets stupidly early in the morning, throwing paper towel around letter boxes and thinking he was sticking it to everyone who looked down on him because his mom worked two jobs. He shook off the memories, and rolled the scooter to a stop be the front door.
“There you are,” Finn said as Will dismounted. “No better service in Lima.”
Will handed the helmet back, and paused for a while, the two of them looking at each other in the steady rain. “Do you want to come in?” he asked at last. “Until the rain eases up a little? I could make you a coffee, or a tea, or something.”
Finn knew he should head home, that he had marking to do, that maybe he would get teased about this by Matt and Ken forever. But then thunder rumbled overhead, and Finn realised he was struggling to feel his fingers, and he suspected that he could wrangle a hot chocolate out of Will if he was lucky.
“Actually, yeah,” he said, taking his jacket off and trying to shake most of the water out. “Just until the rain eases up.”
*
Will’s house was fairly new. There was a big open plan living area, with the kitchen opening out onto it, and a room to the right of the door that was probably the master bedroom. Will dropped his things by the front door, hung his wet jacket up on a peg, and waved Finn up the stairs. “I’ll grab you a towel, come on.”
Will showed him to a bathroom, and turned on the heat lights, and Finn felt for a moment like he was in heaven. His own bathroom had cracked tiles, and the window in the corner didn’t shut properly, so it was always freezing in winter. He dried his hands, and his hair, and stood under the heat until he’d warmed up a little.
When Finn stepped out into the hall again, Will was stripping his wet shirt off and throwing it into a laundry hamper at the top of the stairs. Finn stared for a moment. Will was lean, but not scrawny, though he looked tiny next to the footballers. Will turned and saw Finn staring, and there was a long moment of them looking at each other, long enough the Finn realised that coming in was a really fucking stupid idea, before Will walked back into his bedroom without a word.
After a long moment of hesitation, in which Finn debated the merits of never moving opposed to running for the front door like hell, Will stepped out into the hall wearing a pair of old jeans with a rip halfway up the thigh, and a long-sleeved shirt.
“Come on,” he said, waving for Finn to follow. “I’ll put the kettle on.”
Finn couldn’t help glancing in at Will’s room as he passed. It was clean, decorated in blues, and while the walls were bare except for shelves and standard bedroom furniture pressed against them, his wardrobe was absolutely covered in posters of bands and musicians and album advertisements. Finn recognised it as the one and only response to the “no posters on the walls, it’ll ruin the paint” rule.
They padded downstairs, through the open living area and over to the long bench that marked the transition from carpet to tiles, living room to kitchen. Finn leaned a hip against the bench and looked around the house. It was nice. Very nice. It was also very quiet.
“Are you parents home?”
Will didn’t look up from filling the kettle. “No.”
Shit.
“Dad works late,” Will continued. “And mom’s... at bridge.”
Finn heard the pause, and he was willing to bet that wherever she was, it wasn’t playing cards with the neighbours.
“I’m usually home by myself on Thursdays,” Will said. “It’s pizza night.” The kettle started boiling, and Will looked up at Finn. “Sorry, what did you want to drink?”
As it turned out, Will did have hot chocolate, and it smelled delicious. Will joined him in having a cup, though he told Finn that he usually drank tea, which Finn thought was oddly adult, and suited Will fine.
“Did you want to stay for dinner?” Will asked. He looked pointedly out the window, where the rain wasn’t easing up at all.
“I shouldn’t,” Finn replied, which was the understatement of the century. But when Will looked away Finn felt a tight grasp of something in his chest, because he knew that hangdog look. The moving, the parents not home, the missed parent-teacher nights. Christ, Will was lonely. “But maybe next week we can organise a pizza night for Glee or something. Maybe lighten things up with the group.” Will perked up a little at the idea, and Finn tried not to read too much into it. “Anyway, ordering pizza beats cooking.”
And Will gave him an odd look, before replying, “I like to cook.” Which led to them leaning against opposite sides of the bench, Will talking about all the things he can make, Finn explaining about the numerous kitchen fires he’d started. He did manage to work in that he thought it was cool that Will could cook. Will shrugged.
“Dad’s always home late, and mom isn’t allowed in the kitchen anymore, so...”
“Well,” Finn replied, trying to find his way back to normal, safe conversation. “Well, it sounds like you’re a handy man to have around for a bake sale.”
Will looked up at Finn, and replied with so much sincerity that Finn wondered if he was being ironic, “I do love bake sales.”
It was dark outside, and the rain was a soft, steady beat on the roof and the garden when Finn finally decided that it was past time to leave. Will walked him to the door, held his bag as Finn pulled on his jacket and helmet, and waved as Finn rode down the driveway and out onto the quiet, suburban street.
It was hard to feel bad about the afternoon they’d spent together - Will was a great kid, and Finn had picked up that he certainly wasn’t getting much attention at home. Was it really so wrong to spend some time with the kid, make him feel good about himself? He wasn’t a horrible person for taking a kid home on a day when it was too wet to walk. Their conversation had been as relaxed and meandering as any time they’d talked at school.
So why did Finn have to work so hard to talk himself out of feeling guilty?
*
Rating: PG - M
Characters: Finn Hudson, general ensemble.
Word count: ~8,500 (WIP)
Summary: Age-swap fic. When Finn Hudson got the show choir shoved into his little ball of responsibility, he didn’t expect he’d enjoy it. He didn’t expect Will Schuester.
Notes: I have gotten massively stalled on this fic. I started it over a year ago. Feel free to throw ideas at me.
Part one
At twenty-five years of age, Finn Hudson enjoyed his job most of the time. Having never really blossomed into complete adulthood himself, he enjoyed messing around with students, didn’t have an issue with dropping down to their level, and - in all honesty - got on with his pupils a lot better than he did with most of the staff.
Especially the far-too-young and far-too-obnoxious head of music, one Jesse St. James. So, when St. James was busted for being a little too close to a student, and suspended until further notice, Finn had no problem at all with the situation. He continued to have no problem right up until he was summoned to Figgins’ office.
“Someone needs to take over Glee club,” he was told. “And that someone is you.”
“I-wait, no. What?”
“Jesse campaigned very hard to earn funds for that club, and they cannot go to waste. You will take over as caretaker for the club until such a time as Jesse is able to return to duty, or we find a new music teacher.”
“But... Glee is singing. It’s a show choir. I teach English. Not even that, I teach the dumb English.”
“So?” Figgins asked. “Songs are just words read out nicely, are they not? And you do have a history of performance.”
“Yeah. I joined a band and a drama club to impress a girl - and the fact that it didn’t work should tell you enough about how unqualified for this I am.”
Figgins’ smiled at Finn. “All you need to do is keep the students busy.”
Finn paused. “Wait, what do you mean by ‘students’? Glee has only one member, as of last week.”
“I’m sure you’ll have more after the auditions.” Figgins’ leaned back in his chair, and waved a hand. “You can’t have a show choir with only one member. Even with two, that’s just a show duet. No, now is the time to get some fresh blood into Glee, and whip it into shape. I’m sure we’ll have someone more qualified in a few weeks. You’ll just be babysitting.” Figgins smiled kindly again. “Surely that’s not too hard?”
*
“How did I get roped into this?” Finn moaned as he sat at a table in the staff room. “Can’t you get me out of this?” he asked the school counsellor. Matt Rutherford smiled, and was generally unhelpful.
“Him?” Coach Tanaka asked. “Who do you think suggested you?”
Finn glared at Matt. “Great. So what am I supposed to do?”
Ken shrugged. “Do what every other teacher does: give the kids a chance and try not to look too embarrassed when they fail.”
*
The auditions were almost a success. St James had ruled over the show choir with an iron fist, hand picking the very best and most talented in the school. Which left him with all of two students, one of which he was, well, a little too invested in. But despite St. James’ reign of terror, there were still plenty of students at William McKinley who loved music.
Mercedes Jones, who was always bedecked with microphones and boom boxes in gold and bling around her neck. Kurt Hummel, who screamed a lot of things with his bearing, and ‘Broadway’ was certainly one of them. Tina Cohen-Chang, who lived with earbuds permanently attached to her skull. Artie Abrams, who as it turned out could wail away on the guitar as well as his own vocal chords. And, of course, Rachel Berry.
Rachel Berry, who blew the other kids out of the water. Rachel Berry, who was the fire, passion, and sole continuing member of Glee. Rachel Berry, who was going to be a star.
And Finn was left sitting in the auditorium, in the near-dark as Brad wiped down the piano and slowly put away his things. The single note that Finn had taken during the auditions was, Well, at least none of them suck.
And then the door at the back of the auditorium creaked open, sending a shaft of dusty light down into the gloom, and a head poked in.
“Did I miss the auditions?”
“No,” Finn said, fishing a pen out of his backpack again. “You can be the lucky last.”
He recognised the student as soon as the lights above the stage illuminated him, halfway through an enthusiastic and ungainly crawl up onto the stage. It was the flannelette shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, that gave him away. That, and an unruly mop of curly brown hair.
William Schuester.
In some ways, the kid was conspicuous simply because he tried so hard to go unnoticed. Finn had taught him sophomore English. He was clearly bright, and sometimes bizarrely creative, and he very much tried to keep any of his peers from figuring that out. Aside from the odd Nirvana t-shirt that he wore, Finn couldn’t think of any other sign that the boy was really into music in any way.
“Whenever you’re ready, Will,” Finn prompted. Will gave him a nervous smile, closed his eyes, and began to sing.
*
The song needed drums, that much Finn knew from the way his knee bounced to provide a beat that should be larger than what Brad could manage. And Will should probably have started off with his eyes open, since he got into his performance so much more when he could see. When Finn googled the lyrics that got stuck in his head, he found out the song was “Just Haven’t Met You Yet,” by Michael Bublé.
It was a little bouncy, and at the line “And I know someday that it'll all turn out” Will’s eyes slid closed again and his mouth curved into a smile that was so warm and optimistic that Finn smiled back. His voice rose, and gained strength, and he moved when he sang, and while it wasn’t a perfect performance Finn saw something there, some spark of passion and raw talent and this odd confidence that he’d never seen in Will before.
And then Will’s voice died down, and the music ended, and Finn realised that he was being watching with a careful, guarded look.
“That was perfect,” Finn heard himself saying.
And then he found out that William Schuester had a grin that could light up a room.
*
Teaching Glee got a lot harder after the auditions were over. There was the singing, which Finn could handle. A little pirated sheet music, a little squabbling, and the kids could pretty much work themselves out. There was the dancing, which Finn had always been honest to god hopeless at, so he kept that pretty simple and encouraged the kids to contribute ideas and routines. Then there was the social interaction. That was hell.
These kids were all dorks. Finn knew that. Hell, they probably knew that. To be honest, the most socially successful of them all was Will, simply because he didn’t stand out in a crowd. Maybe that was why they fought so much - kids needed to be the best at something, even if that something was as uncool as Glee was. Mercedes and Rachel fought over lead vocals. Kurt and Rachel fought over song choices. Artie and Rachel fought over the dance moves. Actually, Rachel was pretty much the epicentre of most of the tension in Glee. But she also pushed everyone to work harder, and she set a high standard for them to achieve.
Rachel Berry, superstar in the making, was both a blessing and a curse.
“At least I have a male lead who can keep up with me vocally,” she said tossing her hair over one shoulder. “Even if he is lacking in the glamour department.”
Will, thankfully, heard none of this. He had his head bowed over a book, balancing a pad of paper on his knee, and headphones over his ears. Finn kept staring at him, thinking things over. Glee had a natural leader. The problem was that no one liked her. If someone else were on her level...
*
Finn found Kurt the next morning. By the dumpsters, surrounded by half of the football team. “Hey Puck,” he said, clapping his student on the shoulder. “Being friendly?”
“As always, Mr Hudson,” Puck replied with a smirk.
“That’s great.” Finn let his hand slip down into Puck’s jacket pocket. “Hey, Puck? You dropped your phone.” He threw it over his shoulder, into the dumpster. “Kurt, you’re with me.”
Finn waited until they were safely inside the building. “So, Kurt,” he started. “How important is Glee to you?”
“It could be a lot more important,” Kurt finally said.
“We’ve got problems, I know,” Finn agreed. “And I figure that part of the problem is that you’re all at different places, right? Some of you have better voices than others, some have better moves, and some,” here he paused to gesture to Kurt, “are better dressed.”
“Well,” Kurt said. “I’m glad that you recognise my natural costuming ability.”
“Right,” Finn said. “So in a way it’s your responsibility to make sure that we’re all on the same page with how we dress, right? Like, how we present ourselves to the rest of the school. I mean, I’ve seen you talking to Mercedes about this.”
“She has a lot of promise,” Kurt said. “She just needs some more coaching.”
“Right,” Finn said, nodding. He came to a stop, and looked down the hall. “But perhaps some people might need a little more coaching than others, you know? Maybe just a prod, even. I mean, you want to look really nice and polished when you’re up on stage, yeah?”
Kurt followed Finn’s gaze down the hall, were Will was shoving books into his bag. Flannelette shirt tied around his waist, jeans torn at the knee, and wearing a Soundgarden t-shirt that was so old even the black had faded. Will had large feet, and long legs that he hadn’t quite grown into, and his face was dominated by nose. His hair was a fuzzy halo around his head.
“You’re right,” Kurt said firmly. “My gift must be shared with the rest of the team.”
“That’s the spirit,” Finn said cheerfully, and left Kurt to stalk Will down the hall.
*
So that was part one of the grand plan. Get Will looking the part of the male lead, and he’d get taken seriously as one. Part two was a little trickier - bringing Rachel down a step. It wasn’t that Finn had anything against the girl. It was just that you didn’t get anywhere without a little compromise, and Rachel was going to have to see that. Before that though, Finn was going to need to beg to Sue Sylvester.
“I just need a few girls, just for one week.”
Sue looked down at him. Even though he was taller, even though she was seated behind her desk, she still managed to look down on him. “And why would I want to do that?” she asked. “Glee has been hacking into my budget for the past three years. The chance for it to implode - even without my cunning and grace playing a role - is simply too tempting to pass up.”
Finn took a deep, steadying breath. “Two of your girls’ are failing English. If they were to join Glee, just for a week, I could give them extra credit in English, levelling them out. If they fail, they’re off the team, and no help to anyone.”
Sue paused. “Are you threatening me?”
Finn smiled. “I owe no favour to St. James for dropping this mess in my lap. If you want to claim your budget back, you’re welcome to it.”
Sue regarded Finn through narrowed eyes. “What exactly are you playing at?”
Finn bit his lip, trying to figure out how much truth to tell. “Some of my kids are getting cocky. They have a few numbers under their belts, they’re doing okay. But I need them to see that okay isn’t good enough. I need them to see perfection in performance.”
“You need them to see my Cheerios in action.” Sue bit the frame of her glasses. “Alright. But I want my budget back, and I never want to hear even a suggestion of one of my girls failing again.”
“Deal.”
*
The two phases of the plan met - almost explosively - at the next Glee rehearsal.
The first thing that Finn noticed when he walked into the choir room was a shell-shocked Will slumped in one seat. His hair had been cut short, curly frizz becoming soft waves, and tamed into something almost stylish. His jeans were dark blue, and entirely in one piece. He’d been shoved into a short-sleeved, navy blue button up shirt. He looked up when Finn entered the room, and for the first time Finn noticed that Will had very green eyes.
“Would you believe he had all that tucked away in his wardrobe?” Kurt whispered. “It was like walking into Old Navy.”
Finn appreciated the effort. Apparently, so did Rachel. She was sitting on the seat next to Will, her body angled towards his, apparently not noticing at all as he leant away in response.
“I like your hair,” she said, smiling widely.
“Thanks?” Will gave her a cautious look, realising that more was required. “I like yours too,” he said finally. “It’s very... shiny.”
Rachel positively beamed. “I’m glad you noticed! I recently switched to a completely organic conditioner, and...”
Finn watched as Will’s eyes glazed over, and tried to repress the two urges to go and rescue his student, and to simply point and laugh at him. Finn saw a flash of red by the doorway, and turned with a grin. “Hey,” he said warmly. “Come on in.”
Even Rachel stopped talking.
“So,” Quinn Fabray said, looking around the room. “This is Glee?”
“Yup,” Finn said happily. He knew he’d be getting Santana and Brittany, two amazing dancers if his memory of the freshman dance last year was reliable. Finn glanced around, and saw the way Will swallowed when he stared at Quinn, and the way Rachel noticed. Quinn was apparently a bonus that was bordering on cruel.
“Alright,” he said. “I’ve asked some Cheerios of join us because, in short, we need to learn how to dance. The Cheerios are experts in filling space with coordinated movement,” a phrase pulled right out of Sue’s last interview. “That’s a skill we’re going to need.” He turned to the three new additions. “Any of you know how to dance with a partner? Like, waltz or something?”
“I did some lessons last summer at my church,” Quinn said, eyeing Finn with disdain. Apparently asking a cheerleader if she knew how to dance wasn’t the smartest move.
“Great. Will, get up here.” Will sat still, a stricken look on his face. “Come on,” Finn said again, waving him up. “We’ll work on that solo of yours.”
Will stood and awkwardly shuffled over to Quinn. Rachel’s gaze narrowed into a glare. “I thought I was going to be Will’s dance partner,” she said.
Finn waved it off. “Let’s see what these two can cook up. Besides, we’re going to need your voice in the backing vocals.”
Rachel’s eye widened in shock. “Backing vocals?!”
But Finn was already positioning Will and Quinn together, Will standing behind her with his hands on her waist. “What we’re going for is a really fluid, organic look,” Finn told them. “This is a playful song, so try to have fun with it. Okay?” Finn signalled Brad to hit the keys, and took a seat beside Rachel.
Finn didn’t expect Quinn to know the words, but she did. “I won’t dance, so don’t ask me,” she sang, stealing the word’s from Will’s mouth. He grinned at her, leaning in to take the words back, and the solo became a duet.
They moved well together. Will had a natural grace, a lack of self-consciousness when he danced. When the other kids were stiff and embarrassed, Will was moving in a world of his own. Even Rachel, with all of her lessons and competitions had a stiff structure to her movements, like she had planned out the most effective and emotive poses and was determined to strike them all. Quinn was the opposite - she moved her body like it was a language of its own. The stretch of the leg or the line of an arm could be an invitation or a challenge or a dismissal, and Will grabbed her hands as his body talked back. They spun and twirled, and stopped in time.
They were good together. Better than that.
“See?” Finn said, when they finished and held the pose, before breaking away - Quinn content and professional, Will blushing and grinning and looking so happy it was exploding out of him. “That’s the kind of energy we need. Everybody partner up, let’s see if we can’t get ourselves moving.”
Rachel was quiet for the rest of the rehearsal, and Finn foolishly thought that was a good thing.
*
“Okay,” Ken said, talking with his mouth full of sandwich. “Explain to me again why you thought that this would be a good idea?”
“I didn’t know it would explode like this!” Finn protested. “I figured that if we could just balance everyone out a little it would relieve tension.”
“You honestly thought that introducing some cheerleaders would make things less tense?” Ken shook his head. “I had to reschedule practice because too many of my guys were getting distracted. It’s like those skirts are poison to rational thought.”
“I figured they’d poison the guys, not make Rachel quit Glee.”
Ken leaned forwards. “You’re new, so I don’t expect you to know this, but this is very basic logic - if at first you fail, you give up and try something else.”
“Aren’t you meant to try again?”
Ken snorted. “You seen the attention span of kids these days? No, you’re lucky she stuck out the whole afternoon.”
Finn turned his attention to Matt. “What about you? Got any guidance to get me out of this?”
Matt grinned, and shook his head. Finn was on his own.
“Look at it this way,” Sue said, looming over the three of them. “You’ve got the most talented link cut out of your chain. The implosion of the club is imminent.”
Finn stared at her for a moment. “Sue, that’s not a good thing.”
“It is for me, buddy,” she said cheerfully, and walked away.
“It’s no big deal,” Ken said. “That club is like every other club in this school - it’s not going anywhere, so why get torn up about it?”
“But that’s just it,” Finn protested. “With the Cheerios on the team, more guys are coming out of the woodwork and asking about signing up. We could have enough people to compete as a show choir, and with Rachel we might even have a chance to win.”
“See,” Ken said. “That’s where you’re going wrong, thinking you can achieve something. Maybe these kids are good. So what? Good isn’t great. Hell, it’s not even good enough. And since no charges have been pressed against St. James yet, the competition is something that he’ll have to worry about. Assuming that he doesn’t throw all of the probies right back out of his precious little club.”
Finn glanced over at Matt, who gave him a sympathetic smile, and a shrug.
“Well,” he said. “This has certainly been a downer.”
*
Finn contemplated talking to Quinn, asking her to play nice. But she was busy, slamming her locker shut while Puck demanded to know what was going on.
“Maybe I want to spend some time with a guy who could actually dance with me at the prom, instead of spike my punch and try to get me into the backseat of his car.”
“Hey,” Puck replied. “I am a man of many skills - spiking punch is just one of them.”
“Yeah, well, when I need something set on fire, I’ll give you a call.”
Yeah, Finn was just smart enough to stay out of that mess.
Finn tried talking to Rachel, but she wasn’t in any of his English classes, and the only time she was alone she was also in nothing but a leotard and some pink tights, and Finn just wasn’t cool being around a student who was that close to naked. No, the flash of inspiration came to him as a flash of flannelette streaking across his field of vision, followed by the heavy thumps of a herd of charging gorillas. Ah, Will was making friends with the football team.
Finn waited until just the right moment to step out into the line of fire, and Puck crashed into him right on cue. Finn was thankful that he’d been a football player himself, and knew how to take a hit, because he stayed on his feet while Puck went sprawling. Will disappeared into a building, and was probably hiding in his own locker by the time Finn pulled Puck to his feet and dusted him off.
“Sorry Mr Husdon,” Puck said, trying to peer around him. “Didn’t see you there.”
“That’s okay, Puck,” Finn replied. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you. Let’s go.”
*
“So,” Finn said, pressing Puck into a seat. “I hear that things are a little tense between you and a certain head cheerleader.”
Puck shrugged. “Nothing a little man-to-man chat won’t fix.”
Finn leaned back in his chair. “Huh,” he said.
It took a while, but Puck eventually rose to the bait. “What?”
“Well, it’s just... No, it’s none of my business.”
Puck glared. “What’s none of your business?”
“Well, it’s just... say you succeed in beating the snot out of your apparent competition-”
“Oh, I will succeed.”
“Right, whatever. What’s to stop her from just picking someone else?”
Puck stared at Finn, uncomprehendingly.
“Look, she’s enjoying Glee, so she’s hanging around people who remind her of the fun she has.” Finn had no idea if this was true, but he figured Puck wouldn’t be out to grind Will into the dirt if Quinn hadn’t shown some interest. “You take him out of the equation, there are other guys she can hang out with.”
Puck growled. “So I take them out too.”
Finn leaned forwards, trying to explain. “But that won’t change the fact that you just don’t fit the bill.”
Puck stared at Finn, all beady eyes and Mohawk. “What, you’re saying I’m not good enough?”
“I’m saying that Quinn wants to share her interests with someone. And if you want Quinn to pay attention with you, you’ve gotta share those interests.”
Puck stared at Finn, his mouth hanging open. “You want me to... join Glee?”
“Bingo.”
*
“Do you think I should stick my kids on at an assembly or something? Get the whole school interested?”
Ken stared at him. “Do you want these kids to get killed?”
“Right. Dumb idea.”
*
Puck managed to intimidate some guys to join with him. Mike Chang had been hanging around and asking questions like “So... glee..?” for a while, so Finn wasn’t that surprised. Jacob Ben Israel was a bit of a surprise, but then Finn saw how the guy was around girls, and figured that Glee might actually improve his standing. Suzy Pepper joined too, though Finn had no idea why until one day he saw Jacob staring at the Cheerios stretching, and Suzy staring at Jacob. Ohh.
And then Finn ran though the list of names, and tallied it again. That was twelve. Twelve of them without Rachel. Okay, so they weren’t exactly good - Jacob and Suzy were more of a hindrance than a help, and Puck was too busy being manly to contribute much, and Santana wouldn’t put her phone down and Kurt wouldn’t stop sniping, and there was something weird going on between Tina and Artie, and even Mercedes and Quinn crossed swords at times. Finn wasn’t even sure that Brittany knew where she was half the time.
“Sometimes I think you’re the only one who actually enjoys Glee,” he said to Will as they stacked chairs after rehearsal. Will had his own car, as much of a bomb as it was, and often stayed back to help pack up, or to help staple sheet music, or fold costumes. He seemed to really like helping.
Will shrugged. “I like singing,” he said, pure and simple.
“Yeah,” Finn replied, nudging Will with an elbow. “I’d kinda noticed that,” Will ducked away, smiling and a little embarrassed. His face was a lot easier to see now that his hair was tamed, and he had the most oddly endearing expressions at times. “So,” Finn said, taking one small stack of chairs and adding it to another, “do you know what you’re gonna do when you get out of here?” He figured college. Maybe performing arts. Join a band, run off to LA or New York, or even Vegas. Find a stage somewhere, Finn figured, and make it his own.
So he was completely unprepared for Will’s response of “I’m going to be an accountant.”
Finn laughed, and then had to work through that completely awkward moment when he realised that it wasn’t a joke. “Wait, seriously?”
Will shrugged, stacking more chairs. “My dad thinks I’d be good at it.”
Finn stared at Will, his dancer’s legs and graceful movements, those big green eyes that were trying so hard to look enthusiastic and completely and utterly failing. Someone actually thought that sticking this kid in a cubicle was a good idea?
“Oh,” Finn said at last. “I figured that you’d keep with the singing. Since you’re so good at it.”
Will looked away, moving chairs and keeping busy. “I’m not that good,” he said.
“You really are,” Finn replied, and he waited until Will looked up at him to offer a gentle, encouraging smile. “Promise me you’ll at least think about it.”
Will looked away again. “Yeah, okay.”
And Finn was pretty certain that he wouldn’t, not seriously. The realisation hurt more than he expected.
*
Will became Finn’s secret project. Not in a weird way, or anything. Finn was just, you know, curious. He fleeced Matt at poker until he agreed to let Finn take a peak in the student files. He found out that Will had lived in four different houses during the course of his schooling, though all were in or around Lima. His parents hadn’t been to a parent-teacher night in several years. He was a straight A student right across the board. He even found a handwriting sample from primary school, of Will writing about going to tap lessons. Finn didn’t know what was cuter - the picture an eight year old Will had drawn of himself wearing a top hat, or the fact that Will’s handwriting hadn’t changed all that much.
He went back through the yearbooks, and managed to pinpoint the moment that Will had seen a photo of Kurt Cobain and decided to embrace the part of the nineties that he hadn’t actually been alive for. He looked at the way Will always had his head tilted down a little in photos. As a little kid it was shy and adorable. As a teen it was an awkward cringe. And that was what puzzled Finn.
Will came from a good family. Hell, they even had some money, which was a feat in Lima. He was bright, and keen, and good looking - for a teeny tiny sixteen year old, that is. So why the hell was he always pressing up against the walls, trying to be invisible? Why was it that he only really shone when he was singing?
Finn just couldn’t figure it out.
Part two
As it turned out, Finn didn’t need to fix the Rachel problem - she made the first move herself.
“I hear that you’ve got twelve members now.”
“Yeah,” Will said, pulling novels off the shelf, glancing at the back cover, and sticking them back. “Yeah, we’re talking about throwing something together for invitationals.”
“Why?” Rachel said, lifting her head high. “You won’t win. You’re not good enough.”
Will shrugged easily. “It’s not about winning.” He glanced up at Rachel. “Haven’t you ever done something just because it’s fun?”
“No,” Rachel replied. “I have a very busy schedule, and I don’t have time to be distracted from my goals. I’m going to be a star, you know.”
“I know,” Will replied quietly. “But what’s the point of being great at something if you don’t love what you’re doing?”
“I...” Rachel faltered. “I do love it,” she insisted. “Singing makes me feel... it makes me feel important. It makes me feel special.”
“Maybe you could find some time to sing with us again,” Will said eventually. “And maybe it’ll even make you happy.”
Finn snuck away from them as quietly as he could. If teens spent less time making out in the stacks, and more time playing out a soap opera, he might actually spend more time in the library.
*
So, Rachel was back on the team, bringing the number up to an unlucky thirteen. Finn cringed a little. He suddenly had a lot of kids to deal with. And that plan of bringing them all up to the same level? That really hadn’t worked. Mike was a fantastic dancer, but an average singer. Puck was a good singer, but too stiff as a dancer. Jacob and Suzy... well, they tried. Artie, jeeze. The kid was a great singer, and so enthusiastic, but Finn honestly had no idea what to do with him half the time. And he never knew whether to put Kurt with the boys or the girls. At least Tina had stopped stuttering for the most part. And Mercedes had stopped threatening to cut people.
Finn set Mike and Will the challenge of choreographing Artie, and that seemed to be working. He got Rachel and Mercedes to take turns coaching the weaker links. He got the Cheerios to organise some basic movements that no one could mess up. After a month of sweat and tears, he actually had the kids teaching themselves, which he couldn’t believe. Throw them some sheet music and they just ate it up, spent a while digesting, and eventually spat out another number to stash away in their repertoire. It was amazing. They were amazing.
And, of course, eventually someone noticed.
“I thought I might stop by,” he said. “See if the group was up to my standards.” Bryan Ryan. Blond, arrogant, a total douche. And, apparently, vocally inclined. He was a senior, and Finn could only assume that he was signing up because he’d realised the end was near and he needed a feather in his cap to get into some kind of good university. Finn’s policy was to let anyone who applied join, and Bryan was the first time he regretted it.
He strode across the choir room, and Will stepped back to accommodate him, stepped right out of the leading male spot and let Bryan take his place without even a sign of a protest. Bryan took Rachel’s hand, and smiled at her. “Okay,” he said. “Let’s take it from the top.”
*
“It’s driving me nuts,” Finn said over lunch. “I finally got him coming out of his shell a little. He had friends, and music, and all of this talent pouring out of him. And then this d-bag comes along and it’s like two months never happened.”
“Welcome to the real world,” Ken said. “Apparently we’ve been expecting you.”
“I can’t kick him out without risk of a law suit - yes, Ken, I have learned some things from the sports teams. I can’t stick him in the back row because he won’t let me. I can’t even rally the other kids against him because for the first time they think they have a chance in the competition.”
Ken stared at Finn for a long moment. “Were your teachers this manipulative?” he finally asked. “Maybe you should get a puppy or an ant farm or something.”
“My super doesn’t allow pets,” Finn replied absently. “There has to be something I can do.”
Ken shrugged, and picked up his sandwich. “Just leave it be. If the kid wants the spotlight, he can fight for it in his own time.”
Finn’s eye brightened. “Of course,” he said. “I’ll make him fight for it.”
Ken looked over at Matt. “How did you not strangle him during high school?”
*
“Alright, you two are going to have to fight it out for the next male lead,” Finn said with a wild smile.
“Oh, no, that’s okay. I’m sure Bryan can-”
“Bryan can’t take every solo. Firstly, we want to showcase all of our talent. Secondly, it’s probably not great for his voice. And thirdly, I’m a sucker for spontaneous duets.”
“A real-life diva-off,” Mercedes said, her face splitting into a grin. “Nice.”
“Place your bets now,” Kurt said, folding his arms over his chest. “Because I have a feeling we’ll be left with only one man standing.”
Will was already backing away, when Finn grabbed him by the shoulder. “Come on,” he said softly. “You’ve got the voice to cream this guy. Show him what you’ve got, okay?” He squeezed Will’s shoulder, and shoved him back to the centre of the floor.
Will looked Bryan up and down. “Areosmith?” he suggested.
Bryan grinned, leaning close. “What it Takes,” he replied.
Will pulled a face, but nodded in agreement. Artie got some chords up on the screen of his laptop, and Finn took the chance to commandeer the drum kit. This time, Will was damn well going to have the beat he deserved.
Will got the first lines. “There goes my old girlfriend, there's another diamond ring,” his voice a little uncertain, but then something in his face hardened, and he leaned forwards into Bryan’s space. “And, uh, all those late night promises I guess they don't mean a thing”.
Bryan got the next four lines, a perfect chance to showboat his vocal skills. He delivered his lines with a smirk and a sneer, stalking forwards and pushing Will back a step.
“I used to feel your fire,
But now it's cold inside.”
Will took command of the first chorus, his voice getting stronger, and a little gritty.
“Tell me what it takes to let you go
Tell me how the pain's supposed to go
Tell me how it is that you can sleep in the night.”
Bryan cut in, stealing the line, “Without thinking you lost everything that was good in your life to the toss of the dice?”
But Will fought back and delivered the last “Tell me what it takes to let you go,” with a kind of raw anger that Finn hadn’t heard before.
Bryan was all smirk and strut, his confidence filling the space even through his eyes were locked on Will. “Girl, before I met you I was F.I.N.E. Fine,
but your love made me a prisoner, yeah my heart's been doing time.
You spent me up like money, then you hung me out to dry.”
Will pushed back, his face contorting into an odd sneer as he belted out the lines. “It was easy to keep all your lies in disguise, ‘cause you had me in deep with the devil in your eyes.”
For the first time, Finn started to wonder if maybe there was something else going on there.
They battled it out and, as much as they were competing, Finn couldn’t deny that they were working together in their own odd way. Will cared about the music too much and Bryan was too invested in the performance for one to leave the other without backing vocals, without taking the chance to let their voices soar out and twine together. They were nose to nose, chests heaving and voices ripping out of their chests.
And when the song was over they stayed like that for a long moment, pressed close and hostile, glaring at each other. A private moment that neither was quite willing to break.
“Wow,” Mercedes said, breaking the silence.
“Oh my,” Kurt replied. “I think I came.”
“That was aw-aw-aw-awesome.”
“Well?” Bryan asked, giving Will a dismissive look up and down. “Who won?”
Finn took a moment to pick his jaw up off the floor. “Take five, guys. Then we’ll put it to a vote.”
In the end, the vote was as much about popularity as it was talent. Quinn voted for Will, so Puck voted for Bryan. Kurt, Artie, Tina and Mercedes voted for Will out of some kind of solidarity, while Mike, Jacob, Santana and Brittany voted for Bryan. Suzy and Rachel were on the fence.
“I really don’t know,” Suzy said. “I mean, I don’t know much about music, and they were both good. I’ll sit this one out.”
Rachel looked back and forth between the two of them - Bryan’s charming grin, and Will staring at his feet. Her eyes locked onto Bryan’s face, and his grin widened a tad. “Will,” she said at last. “I vote for Will.”
Finn tried not to sag in relief. “Good job you guys. Wow, that was close. Okay, guys, here are your parts. Let’s see if we can get this learnt by next week...” Finn split people up and set them for work, and then just took a moment to slump against a wall and fan himself.
He didn’t know what he’d expected, but it hadn’t been that.
*
“Look, I’m clearly the best singer-”
“You’re clearly not,” Finn replied. “Look, Bryan, we’ve had this talk over and over, and having it again isn’t going to change things. Maybe you should be making the best of your own songs, instead of trying to steal someone else’s.”
“He can’t handle it,” Bryan insisted.
Finn looked up from his marking. “Really? Because you look like the one who isn’t handling this very well.”
“It’s not fair.”
“No, you know what? What isn’t fair is you pushing this decision all the time. Glee is a team sport. That means working together. It means sharing. It means compromise. This isn’t the Bryan Ryan Extravaganza and Buffet, and it isn’t going to be, and if that’s what you want you may as well grab your bat and ball and go home. Understand?” Bryan glared, a truly hideous sulk. “Understand?” Finn pressed.
“I understand that you’re ruining our one chance of winning, my one chance!”
Bryan turned on his heel and stormed out, and Finn took the moment of peace to bury his head in his hands. He couldn’t wait for that kid to graduate. A timid knock made him lift his head, and focus on the present.
“Will? Hey, come in.”
Will stepped awkwardly into Finn’s office, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. Kurt’s spit-shine was starting to wear off, Will was retreating back into his faded teenage camouflage. “Look,” he said, not quite meeting Finn’s eyes. “Just give him the solos. I mean, there’ll be other years, right? And he is graduating. It’s no big deal.”
“It is a big deal,” Finn insisted. “I’ve seen you when you sing. You’re amazing. You deserve the chance to be amazing.”
Will looked at Finn from under his lashes. His expression was undecipherable to Finn, but those big green eyes cut right through him. “You really think so?” Will asked softly.
“Yeah,” Finn said, wondering what this moment that was stretching between them meant. He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. “I know so.”
Will smiled, small and brilliant, and turned his gaze down. Embarrassed and cute and, when he looked up at Finn again from under those long, long eyelashes, he was almost... coy. “That means a lot to me,” he said.
“Well... good. I guess. I’ve got stuff to do and-”
“Yeah,” Will was saying. “Right.”
“See you in Glee.”
Will smiled again. “Right.”
Finn wasn’t sure what made him open his mouth, but before Will had even turned to leave the words tumbled out of his mouth. “Is there anything going on that I should know about? With you and Bryan?”
And Will’s lovely expressive face snapped closed. “No,” he said.
He was a terrible liar.
*
“So two kids hate each other? Big deal. Look, why don’t you come out this weekend, have some beers, watch the game, and not obsess over your students. It’s getting a little creepy, you know.”
Finn completely ignored Ken’s words of advice. “I just don’t get it. I mean, he’s a senior, Will’s a junior. They shouldn’t even know each other. What’s going on with them?”
“Were your teachers this interfering?” Ken asked, picking at Finn’s bag of chips. “Because I’m pretty sure that if you interfere with kids too much, you go to jail.” Ken and Matt bumped fists, but Finn kept staring into space, trying to work it all out. Ken cleared his throat awkwardly. “Speaking of interfering, you won’t guess who’s coming back to school.”
That got Finn’s attention. He looked over at Ken, and the way Ken wouldn’t quite meet his eyes. “Not St. James?”
Ken shrugged. “No charges, no proof. It’s a bit much to end a guy’s career over some allegations, you know? He’s ‘on leave’ for another month. Then, I guess he’ll be picking up where he left off.”
“Great,” Finn sighed. “Just great.”
*
Glee was certainly interesting for a while. Finn figured he could write a paper on it. Bryan stepped up to the plate, and Will stepped down. Bryan stared intensely at a girl, they giggled and looked away. Bryan told someone they did a good job, they glowed with pride. But, as far as Finn could figure out, most of Glee thought he was a jerk. Finn certainly thought he was a jerk. He’d rile Rachel up with criticism and then level her out with promises and praise, and then he’d turn right around and slip into some moves with Quinn, and everyone could see he was playing the two off against each other. And then there was whatever was going on with Will. Finn still had no idea what that was, but every now and then he’d glace over at the boy, and see him watching Bryan with a blank, sad expression on his face.
Interesting indeed.
*
Things took a change for the... Finn didn’t know if it was for better or worse. But it was Thursday, after Glee, and he’d finished sorting out sheet music and collecting assignments to be marked from his office, and he walked outside to the pouring rain, and Will kicking the wheel of his car.
“Car trouble?” Finn asked, hunkering down into his jacket. Will was already drenched.
“Won’t start,” Will replied. “My dad can fix it, but I’ve got to get home and tell him first.”
Finn knew where Will lived (he wasn’t a stalker, despite what Matt said. He was just... prepared), so it was easy as anything for him to ask “Do you need a lift?”
Will looked up at him with big, green eyes. “Really?”
“Sure,” Finn replied. “You ever been on a scooter before?”
Will hadn’t, but it wasn’t exactly a hard beast to ride. Finn jammed his helmet on Will’s head, sat the kid on the back of the scooter, arranged his own bag on his lap, and wrapped Will’s arms around his waist. It had been a while since Finn had ridden with a passenger, and Will was certainly a little jumpy at first. But eventually he learned to lean with Finn’s body into the corners. And while Finn was constantly blinking rain out of his eyes, and his face was numb, well, at least Will kept his back toasty warm.
Will lived in a two storey house, white on the outside with red brick corners. It made Finn remember his own teenage years in Lima, riding through these streets stupidly early in the morning, throwing paper towel around letter boxes and thinking he was sticking it to everyone who looked down on him because his mom worked two jobs. He shook off the memories, and rolled the scooter to a stop be the front door.
“There you are,” Finn said as Will dismounted. “No better service in Lima.”
Will handed the helmet back, and paused for a while, the two of them looking at each other in the steady rain. “Do you want to come in?” he asked at last. “Until the rain eases up a little? I could make you a coffee, or a tea, or something.”
Finn knew he should head home, that he had marking to do, that maybe he would get teased about this by Matt and Ken forever. But then thunder rumbled overhead, and Finn realised he was struggling to feel his fingers, and he suspected that he could wrangle a hot chocolate out of Will if he was lucky.
“Actually, yeah,” he said, taking his jacket off and trying to shake most of the water out. “Just until the rain eases up.”
*
Will’s house was fairly new. There was a big open plan living area, with the kitchen opening out onto it, and a room to the right of the door that was probably the master bedroom. Will dropped his things by the front door, hung his wet jacket up on a peg, and waved Finn up the stairs. “I’ll grab you a towel, come on.”
Will showed him to a bathroom, and turned on the heat lights, and Finn felt for a moment like he was in heaven. His own bathroom had cracked tiles, and the window in the corner didn’t shut properly, so it was always freezing in winter. He dried his hands, and his hair, and stood under the heat until he’d warmed up a little.
When Finn stepped out into the hall again, Will was stripping his wet shirt off and throwing it into a laundry hamper at the top of the stairs. Finn stared for a moment. Will was lean, but not scrawny, though he looked tiny next to the footballers. Will turned and saw Finn staring, and there was a long moment of them looking at each other, long enough the Finn realised that coming in was a really fucking stupid idea, before Will walked back into his bedroom without a word.
After a long moment of hesitation, in which Finn debated the merits of never moving opposed to running for the front door like hell, Will stepped out into the hall wearing a pair of old jeans with a rip halfway up the thigh, and a long-sleeved shirt.
“Come on,” he said, waving for Finn to follow. “I’ll put the kettle on.”
Finn couldn’t help glancing in at Will’s room as he passed. It was clean, decorated in blues, and while the walls were bare except for shelves and standard bedroom furniture pressed against them, his wardrobe was absolutely covered in posters of bands and musicians and album advertisements. Finn recognised it as the one and only response to the “no posters on the walls, it’ll ruin the paint” rule.
They padded downstairs, through the open living area and over to the long bench that marked the transition from carpet to tiles, living room to kitchen. Finn leaned a hip against the bench and looked around the house. It was nice. Very nice. It was also very quiet.
“Are you parents home?”
Will didn’t look up from filling the kettle. “No.”
Shit.
“Dad works late,” Will continued. “And mom’s... at bridge.”
Finn heard the pause, and he was willing to bet that wherever she was, it wasn’t playing cards with the neighbours.
“I’m usually home by myself on Thursdays,” Will said. “It’s pizza night.” The kettle started boiling, and Will looked up at Finn. “Sorry, what did you want to drink?”
As it turned out, Will did have hot chocolate, and it smelled delicious. Will joined him in having a cup, though he told Finn that he usually drank tea, which Finn thought was oddly adult, and suited Will fine.
“Did you want to stay for dinner?” Will asked. He looked pointedly out the window, where the rain wasn’t easing up at all.
“I shouldn’t,” Finn replied, which was the understatement of the century. But when Will looked away Finn felt a tight grasp of something in his chest, because he knew that hangdog look. The moving, the parents not home, the missed parent-teacher nights. Christ, Will was lonely. “But maybe next week we can organise a pizza night for Glee or something. Maybe lighten things up with the group.” Will perked up a little at the idea, and Finn tried not to read too much into it. “Anyway, ordering pizza beats cooking.”
And Will gave him an odd look, before replying, “I like to cook.” Which led to them leaning against opposite sides of the bench, Will talking about all the things he can make, Finn explaining about the numerous kitchen fires he’d started. He did manage to work in that he thought it was cool that Will could cook. Will shrugged.
“Dad’s always home late, and mom isn’t allowed in the kitchen anymore, so...”
“Well,” Finn replied, trying to find his way back to normal, safe conversation. “Well, it sounds like you’re a handy man to have around for a bake sale.”
Will looked up at Finn, and replied with so much sincerity that Finn wondered if he was being ironic, “I do love bake sales.”
It was dark outside, and the rain was a soft, steady beat on the roof and the garden when Finn finally decided that it was past time to leave. Will walked him to the door, held his bag as Finn pulled on his jacket and helmet, and waved as Finn rode down the driveway and out onto the quiet, suburban street.
It was hard to feel bad about the afternoon they’d spent together - Will was a great kid, and Finn had picked up that he certainly wasn’t getting much attention at home. Was it really so wrong to spend some time with the kid, make him feel good about himself? He wasn’t a horrible person for taking a kid home on a day when it was too wet to walk. Their conversation had been as relaxed and meandering as any time they’d talked at school.
So why did Finn have to work so hard to talk himself out of feeling guilty?
*