You Say You Feel So Empty -- Finn/Kurt
Finn Hudson is not gay. Despite the whispers in the halls or what is scrawled on the walls of the boy’s bathroom, Finn Hudson is no homo. Finn likes a lot of things- pizza, singing, football, really fast cars, video games, setting shit on fire…but not dudes. He likes girls. A lot. Girly girls who have boobs and…you know, stuff.
Which is why having his arms wrapped around the cashmere clad torso of Kurt Hummel- whose lips are, like, the softest thing he’s ever felt on his neck- is so fucking weird.
--
“Look. I’m sorry,” Finn says, looking at the floor beneath his feet.
“For what?” Kurt replies coolly. He looks up at Finn with one eyebrow raised from his seat on his bed.
“You know, for saying all that stuff. Like about the blanket, and the lamp, and well, I guess you.”
Finn is embarrassed and he knows he damn well should be. No one has ever come down on him like Kurt’s dad did. No one has ever made him look inside himself for answers like that before.
“Are you really sorry,” Kurt starts as he rises, “or are you just saying that because you’re tired of couch surfing?”
“No, I really am. I guess I just didn’t get it.”
And to be honest, Finn still kind of doesn’t. He understands enough to know why Burt wanted him out of the house, and enough to know why Kurt had tears streaming down his cheeks, but what he doesn’t understand is how he could have caused that kind of pain.
“You just…you make me real nervous sometimes, okay?”
“And why is that?” Kurt adjusts his hair and straightens his cravat in the mirror. “Because I’m gay?”
There’s an edge to his voice-as if he’s challenging Finn to say “yes, I’m terrified that your big flamey gayness is going to set me on fire in the middle of the night”.
“No,” Finn announces.
“No? I clearly remember you stating just a few days ago that-“
“No. It’s not about you and…that.”
“Don’t call it ‘that’. You need to say the words.”
“That’s just it!”
“What? What’s ‘it’? What about me do you find so,” Kurt pauses and Finn sees him searching for a word, “disconcerting?”
“…I don’t even know what that means.”
“Perplexing. Bewildering.”
Finn stares at him blankly.
“Weird,” Kurt announces bluntly. “Why do I make you nervous?” His scorn and attitude are melting away and Finn can see genuine curiosity in his eyes.
“It’s because,” Finn takes a step forward and sees himself reflected in Kurt’s mirror, “you make me feel, I don’t know, different.”
“You really need help articulating your thoughts, Finn,” Kurt announces, but behind the comment Finn hears a quiver, a little lilt in Kurt’s voice that he had heard that afternoon when those jock douches showed up in the hallway. He hears fear and anxiety cracking through Kurt’s composure.
Silence.
After a minute Kurt says softly, “What kind of different?”
“I don’t know. Happy.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t think I understand.”
“Like there's no pressure to be anything I’m not. I don’t have to be a macho jock and I don’t have to be a good singer and I don’t have to be anything I’m not because you’re just, like, totally yourself and you’re happy exactly the way you are. And I guess seeing you be who you are without any fear or anything makes me wish I could be that brave. To just always be myself.”
“And-“
“And I’m happy when I get to be myself and I guess I don’t feel like there’s anyone else around who just lets me be that-“
“Free.”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah…”
“I just always feel so alone but when I’m with you I don’t feel that way.”
“I don’t either.”
“And I don’t know why.”
They’re silent again. They look at each other through the eyes of their reflections. They don’t face each other. Somehow that would be too personal.
“Finn, I think I’m in lo-“
“I know. I’m not.”
“I know.”
“Look, I’m really sorry but I’m just-“
“It’s not who you are.”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah.”
“But-“ Finn starts.
“But?”
“Nothing, never mind. It’s stupid.”
“It can’t be dumber than what Brittany said today at lunch about how she found a prize in her meatloaf.”
“Yeah, I really don’t think a lunch lady hairnet is a prize.”
They laugh and Finn can breathe a little more easily.
Kurt turns to face him and Finn’s heart beats faster, more nervously, as Kurt’s eyes pierce his own.
“What is it you wanted to say?”
Finn’s hands are sweating, his stomach is upside down, he’s dizzy and confused and all the of sudden Kurt’s face is in his hands and their lips are pressed together and-
And it’s good.
And it’s new and soft and scary and wonderful and terrifying. And he wants to stop and go at the same time.
--
Finn Hudson is not gay. He still likes cars and sports and singing. He still likes to play video games and still really likes looking at girls. But he also likes the way Kurt fits neatly in his arms and the way Kurt’s lips feel on his. He doesn’t really know what he is anymore, but he doesn’t really care. Because now, more often than not, Finn Hudson is happy.
Which is why having his arms wrapped around the cashmere clad torso of Kurt Hummel- whose lips are, like, the softest thing he’s ever felt on his neck- is so fucking weird.
--
“Look. I’m sorry,” Finn says, looking at the floor beneath his feet.
“For what?” Kurt replies coolly. He looks up at Finn with one eyebrow raised from his seat on his bed.
“You know, for saying all that stuff. Like about the blanket, and the lamp, and well, I guess you.”
Finn is embarrassed and he knows he damn well should be. No one has ever come down on him like Kurt’s dad did. No one has ever made him look inside himself for answers like that before.
“Are you really sorry,” Kurt starts as he rises, “or are you just saying that because you’re tired of couch surfing?”
“No, I really am. I guess I just didn’t get it.”
And to be honest, Finn still kind of doesn’t. He understands enough to know why Burt wanted him out of the house, and enough to know why Kurt had tears streaming down his cheeks, but what he doesn’t understand is how he could have caused that kind of pain.
“You just…you make me real nervous sometimes, okay?”
“And why is that?” Kurt adjusts his hair and straightens his cravat in the mirror. “Because I’m gay?”
There’s an edge to his voice-as if he’s challenging Finn to say “yes, I’m terrified that your big flamey gayness is going to set me on fire in the middle of the night”.
“No,” Finn announces.
“No? I clearly remember you stating just a few days ago that-“
“No. It’s not about you and…that.”
“Don’t call it ‘that’. You need to say the words.”
“That’s just it!”
“What? What’s ‘it’? What about me do you find so,” Kurt pauses and Finn sees him searching for a word, “disconcerting?”
“…I don’t even know what that means.”
“Perplexing. Bewildering.”
Finn stares at him blankly.
“Weird,” Kurt announces bluntly. “Why do I make you nervous?” His scorn and attitude are melting away and Finn can see genuine curiosity in his eyes.
“It’s because,” Finn takes a step forward and sees himself reflected in Kurt’s mirror, “you make me feel, I don’t know, different.”
“You really need help articulating your thoughts, Finn,” Kurt announces, but behind the comment Finn hears a quiver, a little lilt in Kurt’s voice that he had heard that afternoon when those jock douches showed up in the hallway. He hears fear and anxiety cracking through Kurt’s composure.
Silence.
After a minute Kurt says softly, “What kind of different?”
“I don’t know. Happy.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t think I understand.”
“Like there's no pressure to be anything I’m not. I don’t have to be a macho jock and I don’t have to be a good singer and I don’t have to be anything I’m not because you’re just, like, totally yourself and you’re happy exactly the way you are. And I guess seeing you be who you are without any fear or anything makes me wish I could be that brave. To just always be myself.”
“And-“
“And I’m happy when I get to be myself and I guess I don’t feel like there’s anyone else around who just lets me be that-“
“Free.”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah…”
“I just always feel so alone but when I’m with you I don’t feel that way.”
“I don’t either.”
“And I don’t know why.”
They’re silent again. They look at each other through the eyes of their reflections. They don’t face each other. Somehow that would be too personal.
“Finn, I think I’m in lo-“
“I know. I’m not.”
“I know.”
“Look, I’m really sorry but I’m just-“
“It’s not who you are.”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah.”
“But-“ Finn starts.
“But?”
“Nothing, never mind. It’s stupid.”
“It can’t be dumber than what Brittany said today at lunch about how she found a prize in her meatloaf.”
“Yeah, I really don’t think a lunch lady hairnet is a prize.”
They laugh and Finn can breathe a little more easily.
Kurt turns to face him and Finn’s heart beats faster, more nervously, as Kurt’s eyes pierce his own.
“What is it you wanted to say?”
Finn’s hands are sweating, his stomach is upside down, he’s dizzy and confused and all the of sudden Kurt’s face is in his hands and their lips are pressed together and-
And it’s good.
And it’s new and soft and scary and wonderful and terrifying. And he wants to stop and go at the same time.
--
Finn Hudson is not gay. He still likes cars and sports and singing. He still likes to play video games and still really likes looking at girls. But he also likes the way Kurt fits neatly in his arms and the way Kurt’s lips feel on his. He doesn’t really know what he is anymore, but he doesn’t really care. Because now, more often than not, Finn Hudson is happy.