fic: Not Like a Thunderbolt, Part Three
Part Two
When Finn wakes up the next morning, he knows the whole game has changed. Kurt kissed him. Kurt kissed him and it awoke something in Finn that he didn’t know was there. Finn doesn’t want to presume anything, but it’s the first morning in a long time that he hears the birds singing and doesn’t begrudge them their cheer.
It’s a Thursday, which is kind of awesome because it means he’ll actually get to see Kurt at Glee after school today, but also kind of sucks because he probably won’t see him at all until then. Finn doesn’t expect that one kiss-or three-means that Kurt is suddenly his boyfriend or anything. Finn knows logically that even if it were a Saturday, he and Kurt probably wouldn’t spend the day holding hands in a field of wildflowers, but that doesn’t exactly stop him from imagining it when his mind wanders. Not that he would ever admit to that out loud.
Finn knows he must have gone to his classes, but he can’t really remember a single one of them. He doesn’t even remember eating lunch. He’s spent his entire day in a constant state of optimism and uncertainty and lust; he’s so on edge that by the time Glee rolls around, Finn is thrumming with nervous energy. He wonders if they are going to learn some choreography today so that he can burn off some of it off. He just hopes he doesn’t look like a total spaz… and that no one records it and puts the video online. Once was enough; YouTube comments are terrible for self-esteem.
Mr. Schue mentions an assignment and writes it on the board, but Finn doesn’t really pay attention. He hasn’t prepared anything, but it doesn’t matter; there are always others that are eager to perform. Kurt sits over Finn’s shoulder on the upper row, and considering his proximity is enough to render Finn totally useless, Finn recognizes that his distraction has reached epic levels of badness. He shakes his leg up in down in a compulsive movement, using the tic to focus his attention.
Finn manages to make it through Glee without too many strange looks-though Brittany does ask if Finn’s leg has had too much caffeine-until the last few minutes, when Kurt rushes up to the front of the room. That, it seems, is enough to hold Finn’s attention. Kurt waves some of the girls up with him and tells Brad they won’t be needing him. Kurt sets up the iPod and all the performers strike a pose as they wait for the music to begin. Everyone sings together in the intro, but Kurt breaks free from the group to sing the first verse. The lyrics are pretty sexy and Kurt has the look on his face to match. Tina sings the second verse-Finn thinks-and he’s pretty sure Mercedes and Santana are up there too, but he honestly can’t say for sure. Finn keeps his eyes on Kurt the whole time, weaving between the girls, swishing his hips, and strutting.
Finn knows this song. It’s from the soundtrack of that movie that Kurt and Rachel like-he’s heard them duet to “Come What May” more times than he can count-and Rachel showed him the video once. He admits that he liked the song way better after that because whenever he heard it he could always imagine the ladies in their sexy lingerie. Finn tries to do that now: get his mind off of Kurt by imagining curvy women in shiny, lacy bustiers and garters, and oh god, now he’s imagining Kurt wearing those things, dark satin against the pale velvet of his skin, his torso wrapped tightly and held firm by an intricate weave of ribbons. Finn tries to feel guilty-Kurt doesn’t usually like when people associate him with girl things-but instead he gets a little woozy from the way the blood rushes in a decidedly different direction than his brain. Finn would run from the room like a coward if he felt like he could stand up without humiliating himself.
The song ends with Kurt and the others hanging off each other and harmonizing the word, “Yes-ah!” Everyone in the room claps; Finn is pretty sure he’s included in that group, but he’s isn’t sure since he can’t really feel his hands. Furthermore, considering the scratchy dryness of his eyes, he’s pretty sure he had forgotten to blink for the entirety of the song. Finn is a wreck and when Mr. Schue dismisses them, Finn makes an excuse to sit and chat with Artie long enough to get himself under control.
Kurt and Finn walk with the group back to the parking lot, Finn pushing Artie in his chair and listening to Sam describe his most recent favorite horror movie-which sounds really gross and awesome-and Kurt playing with Mercedes’ hair as he follows behind her. Kurt and Finn aren’t very near to each other, but no matter where Kurt moves, Finn can feel him there, like he’s super aware of him; like Kurt has somehow embedded himself into Finn’s consciousness. The thought makes Finn smile to himself, glancing over at Kurt just long enough to catch his eye.
The group breaks apart as each person reaches their car. When they reach Kurt’s Navigator, Kurt and Finn wave goodbye to their friends and hop in together. Finn sets his backpack on his feet and grabs the handle attached to the ceiling of the cab-Burt calls it the Oh-Shit bar-waiting for Kurt to pull out. When he doesn’t, Finn turns to see what’s up and finds Kurt looking at him intently. Finn knows that Kurt’s constantly thinking: considering and analyzing, looking at every issue from all possible sides. He really hopes that Kurt didn’t notice Finn practically drooling over him during his number today; he wants Kurt to know he loves him but he doesn’t want him to think he’s some sort of pervo freak who thinks about him in ladies’ underpants. Finn looks back at Kurt, wishing more than ever that he knew what Kurt was thinking.
“I could use some coffee,” Kurt says after a beat. It’s a pretty inconsequential statement after the look he’d been giving Finn, but whatever. Finn will roll with it. “Do you want to go to the Lima Bean with me?”
Finn is taken aback. Kurt’s never taken him to the Lima Bean before. It’s kind of like being invited into his secret clubhouse. “Really? Uh, yeah!” Finn tries to decipher what this means. “I mean, are you sure?”
Kurt turns the key in the ignition, puts the car into gear, and pulls out of the lot. “Sure about what?”
“That you want to take me there. I mean, do you think Blaine’ll be there? What’ll he do if he sees us together?”
“Blaine won’t be there,” Kurt assures. “The Warblers are meeting today and they start later than we do.” He glances back at Finn. “What does it matter anyway?”
Finn shrugs with one shoulder. “It’s just, the Bean is kind of your place, yours and Blaine’s. It’s special to you guys.”
Kurt scoffs. “It’s a coffee shop, Finn. Anyone can go there. I’ve taken Rachel and Mercedes there!”
“Yeah,” Finn explains, “but it wasn’t the same with them. Listen, you don’t have to pretend with me, okay? You don’t have to hide stuff from me either… not if you don’t want to.”
Kurt, who has kept his hands on ten-and-two and his eyes on the road so far, glances away for a second before focusing straight ahead again. He nods. “Okay.”
Finn tries to read Kurt, but it’s hard when Kurt isn’t looking at him. “Okay?”
Kurt laughs in exasperation and shrugs his shoulders. “I said okay!”
Finn throws his hands up in a gesture of surrender then turns to look out the side window at the scenery as it rushes by. They remain quiet for the rest of the ride.
---
Finn has never been a huge fan of coffee, so when he and Kurt reach the front of the line at the Lima Bean, he doesn’t really know what kind to order, telling Kurt to just get him something “regular.” He checks out the pastries and stuff instead, and before he’s decided on anything Kurt has already ordered and paid and is shooing him out of the way of the rest of the line. When the barista calls their names, there are two cups and scone on a little plate. Finn doesn’t withhold his approval.
“I thought maybe we could share it,” Kurt breezes.
Kurt leads him to a table and sits gracefully even though he’s carrying way more stuff than Finn is. Finn sits on the opposite side, and the second his weight lands on the seat he wonders if Kurt has ever sat at this table with Blaine before. Finn knows it would be counter-productive to ask so he doesn’t, but he feels out of place anyway. In his discomfort, Finn takes a drink of his coffee which is just on the side of too hot. He swallows reflexively and then hangs his mouth open to let some room-temperature air onto the scalded part of his tongue. When the pain fades away a bit, he notices that the flavor left in his mouth is sweet, milky, and… chocolaty. He braves another drink, drinking slower and blowing on it first this time; it tastes kind of amazing. His surprise and pleasure must show on his face, because when he looks to Kurt his eyes are crinkled at the edges, and Finn can see how the corners of his mouth quirk until Kurt takes a drink to obscure them.
“It’s a mocha,” Kurt answers even though Finn hasn’t asked the question. “It’s what I used to get.”
Finn drinks more, feeling his heat all the way down his throat. “Used to?” Finn’s not sure why anyone would give up something this good.
“When I first started drinking.” Kurt wiggles his cup a little in his hand to draw attention to it. “I’ve since moved on to the hard stuff.”
Finn nods, half listening and half sucking down his sugary beverage. Finn eyes the scone for a second before Kurt waves his permission for Finn to tuck into it. It has blueberries.
“Finn,” Kurt says, “we need to talk.”
“Uh oh.” Those words are never a good sign in Finn’s experience. “The scone is a delicious bribe, isn’t it?”
Kurt ignores the comment. The words come out like they are rehearsed. “Blaine asked me if I had ever kissed you.”
Whoa. That got Finn’s attention. “What?”
“After he kissed me.” Kurt’s draws his arms in close to his body and his legs are crossed purposefully. “Blaine kissed me, and the next words he spoke were asking me if I’d ever kissed you.”
Finn’s not sure what to do or say. He wonders if it would it be rude to chew and just listen, because he’s not sure how to react to that.
“I had been waiting for it for so long… All the duets and the coffee dates,” Kurt continues, ignorant of Finn’s wave of guilt, “and the sharing… I’ve been wanting him to kiss me since the second our eyes met.”
The admission feels like a kick to the stomach. Kurt still wants Blaine; of course he does. Kurt knows what Finn has to offer, and it’s nothing like what Blaine can. It is suddenly sparklingly clear that Finn never really had a chance. The scone is almost gone, but Finn can’t bear another bite, his stomach churning and the room feeling too hot. Is this why Kurt brought him here? To blow him off in a public place so that he wouldn’t make a scene?
“And then when it happens…” Kurt continues even though he doesn’t need to explain, “when it actually, finally happens, the first thing he thinks to ask is about you?” Kurt looks off to Finn’s left. It kind of seems like he’s talking to himself, until suddenly his eyes are intent on Finn’s. “What do you think that means?” Kurt asks, but it’s not harsh and it doesn’t even sound rhetorical. He just sits with his face expectant, like he’s is genuinely waiting on Finn’s insight. Finn wishes he had some.
“What did you say? When he asked you.”
“I said no… I mean, we hadn’t. To be honest, I was so thrown that I wasn’t thinking straight enough to say much of anything. I just remember feeling… like I’d ruined it somehow. Like it was supposed to be this huge life-changing moment and it wasn’t because… why? Because I wasn’t good enough?”
Finn shakes his head involuntarily. “Dude, that’s not the reason. You’re good enough; believe me.”
Kurt rolls his eyes, but it’s not derisive like he sometimes does, because his cheeks tinge pink a little. “That’s not exactly what I meant… but thank you.”
“Sure, man. If you ever need anyone to tell you how awesome you are at stuff, you know where to find me.” Finn looks away, slightly embarrassed, before returning to topic. “You guys have talked about this already, right? The whole me-having-feelings-for-you thing?”
Kurt nods tightly. “Yes. I hope that doesn’t bother you. I just… I needed someone to talk to.”
“Nah, it’s cool. When I was all confused, I talked to Burt about it.”
Kurt freezes for a second, before blurting, “Excuse me what?” like the phrase is one long word.
“Yeah… never mind.”
“Seriously, Finn?” Kurt’s voice gets a little shrill when he says it. “You talked to my dad?”
“I had to! I didn’t know what else to do! I used to talk to Rachel about feelings and stuff, but now…” Finn sees Kurt’s ire wane slightly at the mention of Finn’s broken engagement. “And I couldn’t come to you, because you were the reason I was all mixed up in the first place!”
Kurt shakes his head disbelievingly. “You could’ve still come to me. It has to be a better option than-”
Finn interrupts. “Kind of like how you’re talking to Blaine right now about your confusion over him?”
Kurt looks taken aback. “Okay. Point.”
The two sit in silence for a moment and Finn’s glad. He needs a second to catch up with everything they’ve just said. Finn feels like they are being pretty open, so he doesn’t feel like he has to hold back. “Can I ask you something?” Kurt sips from his cup and doesn’t object, so Finn continues. “Why now?” Finn asks.
Kurt just raises his brows in a nonverbal cue for Finn to continue.
“I mean, you and Blaine have been friends forever, and everyone knew that you two would eventually get to this point, right? He’s had, like, over a year with you. Why does he suddenly decide that he wants you now?”
Kurt is silent for a beat, before rebutting, “I think he’d ask you the same thing.”
Wow, okay. That kind of hurt, but Finn’s not really sure why. “Tushy.”
Kurt’s eyes are wide and then he blinks twice. “I think you mean ‘touché’. I really hope you mean ‘touché’.”
“Yeah, whatever. You know I don’t speak Japanese.” Finn is quiet for a long moment, looking down at the table where his cup has left a ring. He can feel Kurt’s eyes on him. “I’m sorry if I screwed things up with you and Blaine. Seriously. Just because I want…” Finn shakes his head to himself, before looking up at Kurt. “I just want you to have what you want, okay? Don’t worry about me.” Finn knows that this is what the good guy is supposed to do-to be all sacrificing or whatever-but it’s still hard. He really does want Kurt to be with the man of his dreams, but a secret, selfish part really wishes that the man were him.
“You can go tell Blaine that you’ve kissed me now and we’ve talked about it and I’m not what you want. That’s what he needs to hear, I’m pretty sure. You can still fix things.” Finn tries to pull up one side of his lip in encouragement, but he knows it comes out shaky. Now he just has to stay as normal and upright as possible until he can get home, flop in his bed, and wallow for a while.
Kurt tilts his head and narrows his eyes, but the expression doesn’t look angry. Kurt looks at Finn like he’s trying to figure him out, as if he’s the one that’s the mystery. Finn wishes he were in a humor to laugh; compared to Kurt, he’s an open book.
“Maybe we should get home,” Finn says gently. “I’m in charge of dinner and if I don’t start early, I don’t have enough time to screw things up and start over.” It’s a thin excuse, but Kurt just nods, picks up his things, and doesn’t call him on it.
---
After that day at the Lima Bean, Finn tries really hard to stop loving Kurt… not in the brother way, but in the wants-to-kiss-his-eyelashes way. It isn’t easy. Kurt lives with him; Finn is surrounded. Every time he turns around at home, Kurt is there being amazing and desirable: slightly less dressed up than at school, unbuttoned and flashing the thin skin at the base of his throat or his strong, pale forearms… a body part that Finn has never considered sexy on a person before. Sometimes when Finn flops down on the couch, it releases a cloud of Kurt-smell just to screw with him. Kurt is everywhere, filling every open space in his consciousness, and when Finn is feeling self-pitying and cruel, he wishes that high school were over and that Kurt was already gone, living whatever fabulous life he’s going to have. He always feels guilty after, but Finn knows he needs distance or he’ll never get over Kurt… which would make every Thanksgiving for the rest of his life really awkward.
Knowing what he should do and actually doing it are two very different things, however. He should get out of the house more, get out of the Kurt-fog that has him stumbling and blind. He could hang out with the guys; hell, he could go make some extra money at the shop. Instead he changes nothing of his daily routine, hanging around at home as usual, trying not to act obvious while soaking up Kurt’s presence like a lizard sunning on a rock.
Blaine still comes around and Kurt still goes to hang out with him at the Lima Bean, but they don’t seem to be boyfriends. Kurt hasn’t said anything to Finn about it, and when Kurt and Blaine are together they don’t kiss or hold hands or anything, at least not where Finn can see. If they’re together together, they are doing a good job of hiding it. Finn can’t bear to ask outright because he’s not sure which idea hurts more: that after everything Kurt has actually chosen Blaine over Finn, or that Kurt doesn’t trust Finn enough to think he should know.
It’s the Friday afternoon before Memorial Day and everyone is buzzing with energy at the prospect of a three day weekend. Rachel organizes an impromptu performance to “capitalize on everyone’s high spirits” as they practice for Nationals. They sing “It’s a Sunshine Day” in the school’s courtyard-Kurt calls it insipid-even though The Brady Bunch is so old that Finn has only ever seen it on Nick at Nite. Despite his previous condemnation, Kurt smiles and bounces during the song, not entirely immune from its upbeat quality. When the number is over, he’s flushed from the warm weather and exertion, and he smiles so hard his upper teeth show, just a little. He’s kind of painfully gorgeous.
Before Finn realizes what he’s doing, he’s slung his arm around Kurt and has him pulled tight and tucked into him. Kurt’s smile changes but doesn’t wane at all; he’s beaming, looking up at Finn without any reservation. Finn feels Kurt’s hand land firmly between his shoulder blades and purposefully slide down his spine to the small of his back; they never lose eye contact. Anyone watching them might see the gesture as brotherly, but Finn feels likes Kurt has burned a swath down his back, setting the nerves on fire.
The others shock them out of the moment, coming over to them to fist pound Finn (Mike) and kiss Kurt on the cheek (Tina). Kurt and Finn break apart, pulled in opposite directions by social demands. When Finn glances back at Kurt, who is surrounded by the girls vying for his attention, he wonders if Kurt feels as stung by the loss of contact as he does.
Kurt and Finn walk back to Finn’s truck after the group breaks up. All the other students are already gone, most of them not even having slowed at the Glee club’s spectacle in the courtyard. Finn’s truck is a lone island in the parking lot, so the walk seems private. Kurt is talking, but it must be the kind of thing to which he only expects Finn’s nodding, because that’s all Finn is giving him and Kurt isn’t complaining. Finn can’t focus; he’s still reeling from Kurt’s touch and can’t help but imagine taking Kurt by the hand, walking with him side-by-side, and taking him home in a way that means something more than it means now.
---
It’s Kurt’s turn to cook for Family Night, and as much as Finn loves his mom and her cooking, Finn kind of likes Kurt’s food better-not that he would ever say that out loud; he doesn’t need that kind of drama. Kurt asks Finn for help making dessert, but Finn knows he doesn’t really need it. Kurt’s probably just trying to teach Finn more kitchen things; he’s always saying how he worries that when Finn is on his own he will survive on aerosol whipped cream and canned cheese sprayed directly into his mouth.
Kurt picks a new recipe and says that he’ll bake the cake if Finn can warm up the berries. Kurt uses the stand mixer to make his batter and reminds Finn where to find the measuring cups and spoons. While the cake cools, Kurt supervises while Finn mixes his ingredients and boils them as directed. Finn stirs, but Kurt worries that he isn’t getting the spoon to the bottom, so he puts his hand around Finn’s, guiding his arm and the spoon alike. Finn stops worrying about the mixture, knowing that Kurt has it covered; besides, he’s too distracted by the way that Kurt is almost pressed against his back to be responsible for anything.
After dinner, when it’s clear that everyone is home for the night, Finn begs everyone to play Jenga. He knows it makes him sound like a kid, but he also knows that in less than a month he’ll be a high school graduate, and he’s afraid that these kinds of things won’t be okay anymore. Finn may be pretty clumsy when he dances-and walks and exists-but he’s kind of a prodigy when it comes to Jenga. When someone else’s shaky hands cause the tower to tumble, he talks a little smack and sets the stack up again. The foursome play until Carole decides to go to bed, leaving the men to put the game away.
Burt isn’t far behind Carole; he follows Kurt and Finn into the den, but he doesn’t get comfortable in his chair. Instead he perches on the arm of the couch at Kurt’s elbow. “Well, I’m bushed,” Burt announces. “I’ve got a lot to do at the shop before we fly out on Monday, so I’m gonna hit the hay. You boys gonna make a night of it?”
Kurt shrugs. “There are usually bad romantic comedies on basic cable on Friday nights. I thought I might stay up for a while and mock them.” Kurt turns to Finn. “Finn?”
Finn, who claims Burt’s comfy chair in his absence, gapes a bit, looking back and forth between the two Hummels. Finn knows that Kurt often makes fun of movies with his girlfriends; he’s found Rachel and Mercedes camped out on his bed for movie nights before. He’s never invited Finn though, making Finn wonder if staying means being relegated to the role of girlfriend.
Finn knows he could refuse and no one would think anything of it. He could go upstairs and play Pawn Stars on Facebook, beginning to create the distance from Kurt that he knows that he needs. He should leave, leave and protect his heart, but Kurt’s face is open and inviting and Finn replies “Yeah, okay,” before he can even make the conscious decision to speak.
Burt nods once at Finn then squeezes the muscle of Kurt’s shoulders, getting his attention. “Well, I’ll leave you boys to it. G’night, kids.”
Finn and Kurt wish Burt goodnight as he stands and heads up the stairs. Kurt snatches up the remote and searches through the guide until his eyes light up. “Ooh, we’re in luck! There’s a Jennifer Aniston marathon on TBS. Her rom coms are terrible.”
Finn watches for a few minutes, but never really catches up on the plot. “Did we start in the middle? Because I have no idea what’s going on.”
“Believe me,” Kurt replies. “It really doesn’t matter.”
Kurt is really good at mocking the movie. He can’t seem to decide what’s worse: the characters’ awful decisions or the offensively clichéd writing. “We get it! The man is insensitive and macho; the woman is controlling and neurotic. Clearly they deserve each other!” Kurt shakes his head. “It’s insulting.”
Finn nods mostly for show because he’s not really sure why Kurt is so angry. In the end, the man and the woman on the screen realize the error of their ways and fall into each other’s arms. Kurt makes an indistinct “ugh” noise and mutes the sound, turning to Finn as the credits roll. Despite his disgust, Kurt seems to be genuinely enjoying himself. “A movie marathon warrants snacks,” Kurt proclaims. “Don’t you think?”
“Dude, you read my mind.”
The two head for the kitchen and grab things to take back with them. Kurt grabs sodas-diet for himself and regular for Finn-and asks Finn to cut a couple of pieces of the cake. Finn also gets chips and beef jerky, which earns him a dubious look but no comment. They go back to the den, but instead of reclining back into Burt’s favorite chair, Finn plops himself down next to Kurt on the couch.
The second movie has already started by the time they get back, but they don’t miss much. Kurt launches into an assault right away and Finn does his best to keep up. “I guess this girl is supposed to be not hot because she’s wearing glasses,” Finn observes, “but she’s just as pretty as Jennifer Aniston.”
“Right? Why isn’t the movie about the sassy sidekick with the smart mouth?”
“Because there’s no way she’d go for the handsome douchebag?”
Kurt laughs. “And if a rom com isn’t reinforcing societal expectations, then what’s the point?”
Finn watches Kurt watch the movie. Suddenly, he wonders aloud, “Why do you watch these?”
Kurt sighs, considering the question. “Because Hollywood doesn’t make big budget movies about two men unless they have guns in their hands? Because as much as I hate to admit it, I’m looking for that rare film that gets it right? I don’t know. Why does anyone watch them?”
Finn considers that. “I guess it feels good sometimes… to see other people find what they’re looking for, even if maybe they don’t deserve it.”
Kurt turns to Finn with a heavy regard. Finn can feel his gaze even though his eyes never leave the television. “I mean,” Finn continues, “I kinda get these movies now. I get why people do weird, crazy things like chase people in the rain. Because when you love someone… when you want someone so much, you feel like you’d do anything. I can relate to that.”
Kurt is quiet for a moment; Finn can see him blinking in his peripheral vision. “Is that how you felt about Rachel?”
Finn looks down at his lap. “No. Not with Rachel.”
And with that, Finn knows it’s time to go; he’s embarrassed himself enough. Finn closes his eyes and just as he grabs the arm of the couch to heave himself up, he feels something soft and smooth on the corner of his jaw.
It’s Kurt’s mouth; Finn has really only felt it once, but it’s seared into his memory. Finn freezes solid, eyes still closed, waiting to see what will happen next; waiting to see if it’s all a misunderstanding. Finn feels the couch cushions shift beside him just seconds before warm lips press against the skin over his cheekbone. Finn breathes shallowly as Kurt explores him, his mouth caressing the various planes of Finn’s face, Kurt steadying himself with a hand on Finn’s shoulder and Finn digging his fingers into the plush fabric of the couch.
When Kurt’s kisses become lingering and wet, when they start sliding and teasing, Finn’s breath quickens and his eyes fly open. Without thought or warning, Finn falls upon Kurt, cradling his head with a hand at the base of his skull and dives into his mouth. In a blink they are horizontal, Finn acting entirely on instinct. He doesn’t hold back; he doesn’t have the control. He feels Kurt solid underneath him, solid and large and so good.
Finn kisses Kurt with a ferocity feels new and untapped. He pushes into Kurt’s lips with a force that would be too hard for some people, but Kurt is clutching at Finn’s back and holding him close, so Finn doesn’t consider letting up. Finn smashes his nose in the process though, and after a moment, he has to pull back to get oxygen back into his lungs. He breathes out and in again, but before he can get back to business Kurt blurts, “I’m not with Blaine.”
Kurt’s tone of voice shocks Finn out of his sex haze long enough to process his words. He pulls back to look into Kurt’s eyes and sees that his pupils are blown and his lips are swollen. “Okay,” Finn says habitually and then wishes that he were a good enough person to have remembered to worry about that. “Okay, good.”
Finn’s still breathing heavily, though a bit of his urgency has waned. Kurt looks up at him, his cheeks flushed and splotchy. He looks grieved somehow and Finn hopes it’s for the same reason that Finn is. Resting his weight on his elbows, he brings his hands to Kurt’s face. He feels the heat of Kurt’s cheeks on his palms and curls his fingers above Kurt’s ears and into his hair. He moves in slowly this time, giving Kurt the opportunity to object. He doesn’t. Instead he tilts his face up and meets Finn readily, opening his jaw and inviting Finn inside of him.
Kurt drags his tongue along Finn’s with such intention that it makes Finn shiver. It’s unhurried and indulgent, as if there is nothing in the world but them and this and time. Finn feels the heat and the tension between them build again and thinks that Kurt must feel the same by the way he can’t keep still. His hands run smoothly over Finn’s sides and back and his legs shift, causing his thighs to slide against Finn’s in a way that Finn’s body instinctually recognizes. Finn audibly grunts, his hips thrusting forward of their own accord. He’s not directly on top of Kurt; their torsos are skewed, so his arousal doesn’t make contact with Kurt’s body. The movement makes him shift his leg to balance himself and causes the bulk of his weight to fall across Kurt’s hips. Kurt reacts with a loud, musical, primal noise that tears Finn’s eyes open. Kurt tenses and before Finn can ask what’s wrong he feels a long, hot weight pressed in a line along his hipbone.
Finn instantaneously knows what it is; there’s only one thing it could be. The moment is both surreal and completely, undeniably real. Finn is aware how his face must look, but he can’t seem to control any of his muscles in that moment. Kurt looks up at him with an expression that breaks his heart. He’s seen it before; Kurt is waiting for Finn to disappoint him. In his regret Finn holds tighter to the parts of Kurt in his hands. Finn never wants Kurt to have to make that face again.
Finn looks Kurt straight in the eye. “Sorry, I… sorry.” Finn shakes his head; that’s not what he means to say. “It’s okay,” he whispers close to Kurt’s ear, the tip of his nose brushing Kurt’s cheek. “I am, too.” Kurt’s head turns so minutely, but somehow Finn knows what he’s thinking. “Go ahead.”
Finn closes his eyes and breathes, bracing for the contact. He doesn’t feel or hear Kurt moving until suddenly Kurt’s large hand covers Finn’s dick and Finn has to hold his breath in order not to shatter. Finn hums low in his throat, trying to get used to the sensation. “Kurt…” Finn has never heard his own voice so thick. “Can I? Please?”
Kurt nods, surprised and blinking slowly. Finn shifts all his weight onto one knee, shifting his weight and lifting his body out of the way so his hand can find the evidence of Kurt’s arousal. When it does, he feels all the air in the room go still. It spans his entire hand, heel to fingertips, and Finn feels his mouth fall open. There’s no denying it now; Finn has his hand on Kurt’s dick and yet the Earth still spins. Finn is as hard as he ever was and somehow even more in love, and he’s not scared at all.
“I’m not scared,” Finn breathes, and apparently Finn needs to grow a verbal filter, but once he starts down a road, he might as well walk it. “Kurt, I’m not scared.”
Kurt does the very last thing that Finn expects; he laughs. “I’m starting to get that impression.”
Finn starts to grasp at Kurt through his pants, curious and exploratory, but Kurt lets him go and stills Finn with his other hand. “Finn…” Kurt placates.
Finn breaks contact and keeps his eye on Kurt, worried that he’s crossed a line. “Sorry! Should I not…”
Kurt shushes Finn with a finger to his lips. His expression is soft and does nothing to slow the beat of Finn’s heart. Kurt points up to the ceiling above their heads, and at first Finn has no clue what he’s trying to say until he remembers that, oh god, their parents are just up the stairs and he and Kurt are on the couch in the middle of the living room. Well, at least that’s a good way to kill a boner.
“We should probably go up to bed,” Kurt says in a low voice, and suddenly Finn’s dick doesn’t care who is in the house. Finn’s reaction must show on his face because Kurt smirks in a sexy, cat-like way and stresses, “Separately.”
When Finn gets enough blood in his head to stand up, he climbs off of Kurt as gracefully as possible. He offers Kurt a hand which he takes, pulling him up as well. They clean up the mess on the coffee table and shut off the television before heading up the stairs. Finn’s door is closest to the stairs and he has trouble stopping there when he knows that Kurt is going to continue on to the next room. Kurt stops too though, and pulls Finn down to claim his mouth in a kiss that tastes like a promise. They kiss for too long, until they hear a real or imagined noise from their parents’ room. Flying apart, they suppress giggles when they realize that no one is coming out to catch them. Finn gives Kurt one more peck before turning into his doorway, though he takes a moment to watch Kurt as he walks away.
Finn sheds himself of his pants when he gets to his room and climbs into his bed. He’s tired, but his mind rushes with memories and echoes of sensation. He knows what he needs to sleep; he needs to get off, and for the first time Finn thinks that maybe imagining Kurt while he does it isn’t something Kurt would mind.
---
Despite Carole’s frenzy to pack and ready the house for her and Burt’s departure, the weekend goes by torturously slowly. Kurt and Finn are constantly together, but they are almost always in the company of one or both of their parents, and even if neither Burt nor Carole is in the room, they are almost assuredly nearby. Finn tries to keep calm and not look at Kurt too much, but he’ll catch his eye wandering to him if he sits still too long. Finn would worry about looking like a creeper if he didn’t keep catching Kurt doing the same thing. In response Kurt looks coyly away, but sometimes he’ll look back without inhibition, Finn daring to believe that the timidity is for their parents’ benefit and not Kurt’s. Finn feels like he and Kurt are dancing around something; it’s exciting and nerve-wracking and frustrating, but Finn tries his best to be patient. After all, at least they are both finally dancing.
Burt has a function in D.C. on the actual Memorial Day holiday, so he and Carole leave for the airport on Monday morning before it is even fully light outside. Kurt and Finn drag themselves out of bed to send them off, Kurt in pristine navy pajamas with white buttons and Finn in his faded The Hulk pajama bottoms, Carole hugging both boys in turn and lamenting the fact that they can’t come along. Kurt expresses his empathy, but reminds her again that they have school the next day.
“C’mon, honey. They’ll be all right. We’re only gonna be gone a coupla days.” Carole withdraws and Burt hugs them each in turn. “You boys have fun,” Burt throws out casually before tensing. “But not too much fun,” he clarifies, pointing his finger at Kurt and then at Finn. Finn swallows hard, but Kurt just rolls his eyes and pushes Burt towards the door as he insists, “I mean it!”
Finn helps his mom with all her luggage-Carole must be taking lessons from Kurt when it comes to the amount of products she uses-and waves goodbye to them as they drive away. Finn feels a little downtrodden. He wasn’t exactly making sexy plans for the rest of the day, but he can admit that he liked the feeling that such plans were possible. Burt seems to have kind of forbidden it though, and Finn is ready to comply until, once Burt’s truck is out of sight, Kurt slides his hand into Finn’s. When Finn turns his head to look at him, Kurt wears an expression Finn’s never seen before. Finn can’t describe it-not without using clichéd words like “electric”-but it makes the tiny hairs on his arms stand erect.
Kurt pulls Finn back into the house, Finn following without question. Kurt closes and locks the front door behind him and says something, but Finn is too impaired by the early hour and Kurt’s nearness to comprehend it at first. “Huh?”
“Let’s go back to bed. It’s too early to get up, even for me.” It sounds decisive, but Kurt just looks up at Finn and doesn’t move until Finn agrees.
Kurt guides Finn up the stairs, their hands still joined and their feet quiet on the carpet. Kurt stops in front of Finn’s doorway, turning to Finn with big eyes. Finn squeezes Kurt’s hand before letting it go, and in that moment it feels like the hardest thing he’s ever had to do. Kurt smiles a little but he looks pained too. Finn takes a breath, preparing to beg Kurt to stay, to follow him into his room; preparing to promise that he’ll keep it innocent if Kurt will just stay with him. Kurt prevents it though with a kiss to his cheek and the whispered word, “goodnight” in his ear.
Finn wakes later to feel his mattress jostling underneath him. Even if Kurt weren’t the only other person in the house, Finn would know it was him. “Kurt?” Finn slurs, turning his shoulders toward the dip in the bed but unwilling to open his eyes. “Is everything okay? Is the house on fire?”
“Everything is fine,” Kurt soothes, the fleshy pads of his fingers reaching out to graze the cut of Finn’s exposed tricep. “I just…”
Finn feels the blankets shifting across his skin as Kurt slides underneath them. Finn turns his body towards Kurt without thinking, facing him and rolling close enough to feel the pocket of room temperature air that Kurt’s entrance invited under the covers.
Finn finally opens his eyes. Sunlight slants in the windows but it still isn’t very bright out, so he hasn’t been asleep long. The beams light Kurt from the back, making his hair glow with a reddish hue. His hair is ruffled but his eyes are alert, causing Finn to wonder if he ever fell back to sleep.
Finn’s brain wakes up enough to process what Kurt was saying. “You just…?”
“It was too far,” Kurt breathes, their bodies close enough to share heat but not enough to touch. “I was in there, and you were in here… and I just didn’t see the point anymore.” Finn feels the tips of Kurt’s fingers graze his side, just under his ribcage. “It was too far.”
Finn feels his heart speed; he leans into Kurt’s space so that their eyes lock onto each other, and as he pulls Kurt into him he confesses, “You’re still too far.”
Instantaneously they find themselves pressed together from knees to shoulders in an equitable embrace. Finn rolls onto his back, pulling Kurt on top of him and probably pinning his arms, but Kurt doesn’t complain. They hold each other tightly, Finn pressing his nose into the soft skin behind Kurt’s ear, the room so still and quiet that he can hear his breath echo off of the contours of Kurt’s neck. Finn is so full-full of comfort and affection and motherfucking love-that even if he had his eyes open, he wouldn’t be able to see because the rest of his senses are so overloaded.
With as full as his heart is, Finn doesn’t notice how full some of his other parts get until they decide to make their presence known. Kurt is draped over Finn, squeezing with his arms, his face buried in the naked skin of Finn’s shoulder and his mouth open enough for Finn to feel the faint moisture of the inside of his lip. Kurt’s legs remain slack, his left leg resting between Finn’s open, relaxed thighs. This time when Finn’s hips involuntarily thrust, even through the layers of fabric between them, his hardness finds the perfect, sweet slide of friction against the firm muscle of Kurt’s thigh. Finn groans so deep and low in his throat that he can feel the vibrations in his chest.
“Finn.” Kurt says in a voice that is quiet, but still so sure and strong… way stronger than Finn feels right now. Finn can’t decide if it’s a warning or an invitation and he has to know… he has to hear it from Kurt that this is happening, that he’s reading it right… that Kurt is here with him for real.
“Tell me, Kurt.” Finn’s voice trembles, but he hope he covers his nerves when he turns his head, grasps Kurt by the scruff of his neck, and brings their foreheads together. “Please.”
“Yes,” Kurt breathes, the word airy and light but undeniably real. “Finn… yes.”
Kurt pulls back far enough to look into Finn’s eyes before he rolls off of him and onto his back, his hands reaching up to the top button of his pajama top. Finn props himself up onto his elbows for a better view and watches as Kurt methodically, deliberately frees each button. He doesn’t pull the two sides of the shirt apart, but as each enclosure separates, gravity pulls them apart a little bit more and exposes an increasingly growing strip of soft, firm skin. Finn doesn’t think Kurt means for it to be seductive, not with the way that his eyes are fixed on his task, but Finn can feel his lips dry out with his huffs of anxious breath.
When every button is undone, Finn has to grit his teeth to resist reaching his hands under the flaps of navy fabric, running his hands over Kurt’s shoulders, and tearing off the offensive barrier to finally, finally see the v-shaped torso that Kurt always keeps so carefully covered. He considers it, wants to, but the moment feels delicate, so he waits. He waits, his eyes glued as Kurt pulls the edges of the shirt apart, revealing the soft definition of his abs. He waits, as Kurt sits up enough to pull the top over his shoulders and arms, dropping it to the floor at the side of the bed. He waits, until Kurt squirms under Finn’s heavy gaze, grasps at the wrist that wears a thick leather band, and pleads, “Touch me, okay?”
Finn touches. He rolls to hover over Kurt, learning him with his hands; his fingers spread wide and eliciting such lovely sounds that he follows his caresses with his mouth, Kurt’s skin smelling faintly of lotion but tasting like skin. The flat plane of Kurt’s stomach jumps in time with each barely audible gasp; Kurt’s hands fly to Finn’s hair and he grabs on, Finn feeling the dull tug against his scalp.
Finn feels bold; he feels brave. He sees the faint, barely visible hairs that trail across the smooth patch of skin below Kurt’s belly button. He knows logically where they lead, but it isn’t enough; he needs to see. He presses his palm on the skin there, pushing firmly enough to feel Kurt’s contracted muscles resist the movement, feeling the band of Kurt’s pajama pants against his thumb and slipping under it, causing Kurt to whimper. Braver still, Finn turns his hand and takes hold of the waistband, the backs of his fingers resting against the smooth heat of Kurt’s body.
Finn looks up at Kurt, his cheeks glowing pink with heat, his mouth hanging open as he pants. The eye contact spurs Kurt into action. He tugs Finn up by his hair to meet his mouth, the hinge of his jaw already wantonly open. Their tongues meet and it’s dirty in a way that Finn’s never really felt before, cracking with tension and intention. Finn takes it as an invitation; he grasps the bands of Kurt’s pajamas and boxer-briefs, pulling them away from his body and down, doing his best to free Kurt’s dick. Finn can’t see what he’s doing, nor can he get the articles all the way off, but he can’t bear to part from Kurt’s mouth long enough to ask for help so it’s lucky that Kurt lifts his hips enough for Finn to pull them down somewhere around his thighs.
Without even thinking, Finn has his dominant hand around Kurt’s erection. Suddenly the air shifts; for the first time Kurt outright moans, his mouth separating from Finn’s. It shocks them still for a moment, breathing into each other’s mouths. Kurt seems to take a moment to recover before almost imperceptibly shifting his hips, cuing Finn to move his hand. Finn complies, at first keeping the strokes slow and too gentle to get them both used to it. It doesn’t take long, the motion familiar enough that the mechanics feel like second nature despite the odd angle.
Kurt’s arms lower, one to grapple Finn’s back and the other to stroke down Finn’s chest and stomach to find the bulge in Finn’s pajamas. Finn’s cock is already hot and throbbing, so the heat of Kurt’s hand that seeps through the worn knit is overwhelming.
“Finn,” Kurt implores and Finn knows exactly what he’s asking for so he nods. Finn rolls onto his back to shuck off his bottoms and fling them who-knows-where. Finn is sort of aware of Kurt pulling off his own half-discarded clothes and disposing of them, but Finn can’t manage to take his eyes off of Kurt’s erection. It’s long and shaped a little differently from Finn’s, the flesh itself dark and dusky in comparison to all the rest of Kurt’s glorious, milky skin. Finn thinks briefly that it should be weird; he’s never looked at a naked dude before and felt his mouth water, but it’s different with Kurt. Everything is different with Kurt.
They come back together in the center of the bed, facing each other on their sides. Finn takes Kurt in his hand again, immediately pumping from root to tip, causing Kurt to throw his head back and baring the pale column of his throat. When he tilts his head forward again, he looks first at Finn’s face with dilated eyes, but then his gaze travels down his body. Finn’s cock jumps at Kurt’s scrutiny.
Kurt reaches and grasps Finn there, his grip light and testing. He holds it, feeling the girth and the weight before daring an experimental slide. He looks back up to Finn. “I’ve never,” Kurt admits.
“Me neither,” Finn replies in a private voice. Not with a man, Finn thinks. Not when it felt like this. Not with you. “I’m just doing it like I would... ya know. To myself.”
Kurt nods shakily in acknowledgement. After a brief moment, Kurt’s grip becomes more assured, dragging the skin over the firmness of Finn’s shaft from just under the head to the base and back again.
“Oh god, dude.” Finn feels his toes curl. “Holy shit.”
“Yeah,” Kurt agrees in a thick voice. He leans closer to Finn, kissing him softly. The affection and gentility contrast starkly with his fierce, twisting grip.
Finn does his best to maintain a steady rhythm on Kurt with his hand, but he knows he occasionally falters and jerks when Kurt flicks his wrist just right. Finn tries the same kind of flicks and teases, trying to find ways to make Kurt bite his lip and let go enough to make the low, unbidden noises that Finn can feel vibrate through his bones. Eventually all technique flies out the window, Finn struggling to remain moving at all when sensation threatens to overtake him. It’s been an embarrassingly short amount of time when Finn feels the irrefutable weight in his balls. It’s so tempting to just come, to finally let go and feel a sort of culmination of the months of desire and need, but he doesn’t want to; he isn’t ready yet.
“Hey,” Finn says, but Kurt doesn’t seem to hear him. There are lines between Kurt’s eyebrows as he concentrates, so Finn tries again, his voice shaky. “Can we slow down?” In response Kurt slides his tongue over Finn’s upper lip which is almost enough to end it all. “Kurt,” Finn moans, drawing out the vowel sound. “I’m not gonna last, man. Please.”
Finn pulls his free hand from under his body and stills Kurt’s flexing forearm. Kurt exhales, nods a little as if he is just now processing Finn’s request, and lets Finn go. Finn rolls onto his back to breathe and get some control, but Kurt follows him. Kurt rests his shoulder and folded arm on Finn’s chest, kissing him sweetly on the mouth and then dragging his lips down the front of Finn’s neck to lick in the hollow between Finn’s collarbones. It doesn’t exactly help Finn to calm down, but it feels amazing so Finn runs his hands along Kurt’s spine in encouragement.
Kurt crawls between Finn’s legs to bring their mouths together again, and something about the position strikes Finn. Finn lays on his back with his legs spread, Kurt kneeling between them and resting his weight on his elbows as his tongue… fucks into Finn’s mouth. Something clicks in Finn’s head: this is sex, unequivocal and stripped. Maybe that’s a weird thing to suddenly realize, but in the whirl of emotions leading to this point, Finn never stopped to think beyond the instinct and desire. Now, with Kurt between his thighs in a position that Finn usually assumes, Finn can see it for what it is.
Kurt widens his knees, lowering his pelvis to align with Finn’s. Theirs dicks slide against each other, causing the muscles in Finn’s thighs to tense and clamp around Kurt’s hips. Finn grabs onto Kurt’s biceps, his fingers biting into the muscle as he holds on, every point of contact between his body and Kurt’s humming with sensation. When the head of Kurt’s cock drags and tugs at Finn’s, it leaves a spot of moisture, easing the glide. Kurt begins circling his hips in a smooth grind: a constant, pressured sweep of back and forth; Finn can’t really even detect a rhythm as Kurt thrusts and retreats in a seamless, mind-numbing swerve to which there is no respite, no room to catch a breath in the endless thrum of exposed nerve.
Finn pulls Kurt down so that their torsos are flush, needing the pressure of Kurt’s weight to tether him to reality. Finn can feel Kurt’s thighs flex as he pumps, unselfconscious and visceral, the perfect contrast to Kurt’s irregular, vulnerable whimpers. Finn can’t decide where to put his hands, so he lets them wander, trying to ground Kurt too, just in case he needs it.
Finn feels his thighs start to shake and he knows he can’t last. Finn mouths wetly at Kurt’s earlobe and whines, “I’m so close, Kurt. So close.”
Kurt hums tersely in acknowledgement, reaching under Finn’s shoulder for additional leverage, and doesn’t relent. “Go on,” Kurt encourages, and his voice sounds wrecked. “It’s okay.”
That’s it; Finn comes, his dick jumping away from his body in its spasms. His body stiffens, his muscles seizing into stone as Kurt just keeps moving, and Finn wonders if this is what dying feels like.
Once Finn comes down enough to think or feel anything, he notices Kurt’s rhythm stutter and falter. Finn wants to help him, wants to be the reason that Kurt runs flying over the edge, so he does what he’s been waiting for months to do. He gathers Kurt up in his arms and holds him tight. “Kurt,” Finn exclaims urgently, like he’s trying to get his attention from across the room. “I love you. I’m in love with you.”
Kurt’s forehead lands on Finn’s shoulder with force, somewhat muffling the long, obscene sound that tears from his throat. Finn can feel Kurt’s dick pulsing, can feel the moisture that splashes between their bodies. Finn knows the second that it’s over, because Kurt’s body goes slack except for his deep, rapid breathing.
Finn continues to hold Kurt to him, relishing his solid presence on his body. When Kurt tries to push himself up, Finn begrudgingly lets him and Kurt looks up to meet Finn’s eyes. Finn isn’t sure how to describe the look he finds there, but he hopes that Kurt is feeling everything he is: awe and elation and bone-deep satisfaction. They kiss again and it’s lazy, just a confirmation and reconnection, finding each other again after the way they came apart.
Kurt moves to roll off of him, so Finn extends his arm for Kurt to lie on. “Whoa,” Finn marvels as he lolls his head from side to side. He’s overheated, debaucherous, and working on getting seriously sticky, but he kind of couldn’t care less. Finn thinks that if everyone could feel the way Finn feels in this moment, humankind would never fight again.
The two lie together on their backs, Finn’s bicep pillowing the curve of Kurt’s neck. Their breathing slows until a stillness falls upon the room. In the silence it’s easy for insecurity to creep in, to wonder if they’ve gone too far too fast. Finn rolls his head to his side and Kurt does the same so that their eyes meet. An unrestrained smile blooms on Kurt’s face so Finn returns it, quelling his worry.
Kurt moves to face Finn but aborts the movement and returns to lying on his back, looking down at the mess on his stomach with a grimace. “Ugh,” he bemoans, looking at Finn with his nose crinkled in disgust. Finn chuckles, and despite being in the same predicament, he leans over Kurt and kisses the creases on his nose. The motion gets some of their mess on the sheets, causing Kurt to scold him. “Finn! Look what you’re doing! Don’t you have some tissues around here somewhere?”
Finn isn’t at all concerned. “Don’t worry about it. We might as well wipe off on them and throw them in the washer.”
Kurt looks doubtful, but after looking around the room for options, he complies. He rubs the fabric disdainfully between his fingers. “Plaid flannel. Seriously? It’s over eighty degrees outside!”
Finn shrugs with one shoulder as he cleans himself up. “It was still kinda cold out when I put them on the bed.”
Kurt’s eyes widen comically. He swings his legs off the bed and stands as he replies, “Excuse me for a moment while I go bathe in fire.”
Kurt walks around the bed toward the door so Finn has to scramble and reach over the edge to catch him. “Hey… don’t go.” Finn puts his hand in Kurt’s and pulls him a step closer to the bed. “Can’t we just stay here for a little while?”
“If you think I’m getting back into that pit of filth, you are seriously deluded.” Finn probably makes a pouty face, but it must be okay, because Kurt steps closer to him and runs his hands through Finn’s hair. “Come on,” Kurt says in a sexy, private voice. “How about you do something about those sheets and then we go take a shower?”
“Nah, we’re not too gross. Let’s go eat something first.” Finn scoots to the edge of the bed to stand up then freezes. “Wait. Did you say that we-” Finn gestures between the two of them with a finger, “-should go take a shower? Like, together?!”
Kurt tilts his head, smiles smugly, and pats Finn on the head. “You know, food does sound like a good idea. Let’s go downstairs… but put on some boxers or something. I don’t want you leaning against the counter like that.” Kurt gestures at Finn’s nakedness with an open hand as he leans over to retrieve his own boxer-briefs.
Finn obeys, finding his pajama pants thrown over his backpack. He steps into them quickly and rushes to follow Kurt downstairs. “So, the shower thing? After breakfast, that’s still on the table, right?”
Kurt just hums breezily as he enters the kitchen and immediately starts washing his hands. He shoots Finn a look that Finn’s seen a thousand times before, so Finn washes his hands too as Kurt bends over and digs in the drawer under the stove. Finn can’t help but drink him in: his back is wide at the shoulders but tapers down to a slim waist; his muscles and shoulder blades shift as Kurt retrieves a large, flat skillet. His dark red, almost certainly designer boxer-briefs ride low, exposing a dent on each side of Kurt’s spine just above each tight, round swell of Kurt’s ass. Finn realizes that he didn’t get to see it when they were naked before, so he imagines what it must look like and feels confident that it won’t be long before he gets to really see.
Kurt turns around and catches Finn ogling him. He looks expectant.
“Sorry… did you say something?” Finn asks as innocently as possible under the circumstances.
Kurt raises an eyebrow and one side of his smirk. “I said…” Kurt drags the word out, “that I’m in the mood for crêpes. What do you think?”
Finn can feel his smile spread across his face. “That sounds kinda perfect. How about I make the crêpes and you make the stuff to go in ‘em.”
“Are you sure?” Kurt jabs, but it’s flirty. “I don’t think you can afford another trip to the Le Creuset outlet.”
Finn steps into Kurt’s space, their bodies a hair’s breadth apart. Kurt tilts his head up as Finn tilts his head down to say, low and serious, “You can trust me.” After a pregnant pause, Finn steps to turn on the burner. “Besides… you’re with me, right?”
Finn watches the rhythmic expansion of Kurt’s chest as he leans a hip against the kitchen counter. “Yeah, I am,” Kurt admits. “We can do this.”
The two work side-by-side, Kurt whipping cream and macerating berries while Finn carefully and methodically produces crêpe after crêpe. He doesn’t burn a single one.
Part Four
Masterpost
When Finn wakes up the next morning, he knows the whole game has changed. Kurt kissed him. Kurt kissed him and it awoke something in Finn that he didn’t know was there. Finn doesn’t want to presume anything, but it’s the first morning in a long time that he hears the birds singing and doesn’t begrudge them their cheer.
It’s a Thursday, which is kind of awesome because it means he’ll actually get to see Kurt at Glee after school today, but also kind of sucks because he probably won’t see him at all until then. Finn doesn’t expect that one kiss-or three-means that Kurt is suddenly his boyfriend or anything. Finn knows logically that even if it were a Saturday, he and Kurt probably wouldn’t spend the day holding hands in a field of wildflowers, but that doesn’t exactly stop him from imagining it when his mind wanders. Not that he would ever admit to that out loud.
Finn knows he must have gone to his classes, but he can’t really remember a single one of them. He doesn’t even remember eating lunch. He’s spent his entire day in a constant state of optimism and uncertainty and lust; he’s so on edge that by the time Glee rolls around, Finn is thrumming with nervous energy. He wonders if they are going to learn some choreography today so that he can burn off some of it off. He just hopes he doesn’t look like a total spaz… and that no one records it and puts the video online. Once was enough; YouTube comments are terrible for self-esteem.
Mr. Schue mentions an assignment and writes it on the board, but Finn doesn’t really pay attention. He hasn’t prepared anything, but it doesn’t matter; there are always others that are eager to perform. Kurt sits over Finn’s shoulder on the upper row, and considering his proximity is enough to render Finn totally useless, Finn recognizes that his distraction has reached epic levels of badness. He shakes his leg up in down in a compulsive movement, using the tic to focus his attention.
Finn manages to make it through Glee without too many strange looks-though Brittany does ask if Finn’s leg has had too much caffeine-until the last few minutes, when Kurt rushes up to the front of the room. That, it seems, is enough to hold Finn’s attention. Kurt waves some of the girls up with him and tells Brad they won’t be needing him. Kurt sets up the iPod and all the performers strike a pose as they wait for the music to begin. Everyone sings together in the intro, but Kurt breaks free from the group to sing the first verse. The lyrics are pretty sexy and Kurt has the look on his face to match. Tina sings the second verse-Finn thinks-and he’s pretty sure Mercedes and Santana are up there too, but he honestly can’t say for sure. Finn keeps his eyes on Kurt the whole time, weaving between the girls, swishing his hips, and strutting.
Finn knows this song. It’s from the soundtrack of that movie that Kurt and Rachel like-he’s heard them duet to “Come What May” more times than he can count-and Rachel showed him the video once. He admits that he liked the song way better after that because whenever he heard it he could always imagine the ladies in their sexy lingerie. Finn tries to do that now: get his mind off of Kurt by imagining curvy women in shiny, lacy bustiers and garters, and oh god, now he’s imagining Kurt wearing those things, dark satin against the pale velvet of his skin, his torso wrapped tightly and held firm by an intricate weave of ribbons. Finn tries to feel guilty-Kurt doesn’t usually like when people associate him with girl things-but instead he gets a little woozy from the way the blood rushes in a decidedly different direction than his brain. Finn would run from the room like a coward if he felt like he could stand up without humiliating himself.
The song ends with Kurt and the others hanging off each other and harmonizing the word, “Yes-ah!” Everyone in the room claps; Finn is pretty sure he’s included in that group, but he’s isn’t sure since he can’t really feel his hands. Furthermore, considering the scratchy dryness of his eyes, he’s pretty sure he had forgotten to blink for the entirety of the song. Finn is a wreck and when Mr. Schue dismisses them, Finn makes an excuse to sit and chat with Artie long enough to get himself under control.
Kurt and Finn walk with the group back to the parking lot, Finn pushing Artie in his chair and listening to Sam describe his most recent favorite horror movie-which sounds really gross and awesome-and Kurt playing with Mercedes’ hair as he follows behind her. Kurt and Finn aren’t very near to each other, but no matter where Kurt moves, Finn can feel him there, like he’s super aware of him; like Kurt has somehow embedded himself into Finn’s consciousness. The thought makes Finn smile to himself, glancing over at Kurt just long enough to catch his eye.
The group breaks apart as each person reaches their car. When they reach Kurt’s Navigator, Kurt and Finn wave goodbye to their friends and hop in together. Finn sets his backpack on his feet and grabs the handle attached to the ceiling of the cab-Burt calls it the Oh-Shit bar-waiting for Kurt to pull out. When he doesn’t, Finn turns to see what’s up and finds Kurt looking at him intently. Finn knows that Kurt’s constantly thinking: considering and analyzing, looking at every issue from all possible sides. He really hopes that Kurt didn’t notice Finn practically drooling over him during his number today; he wants Kurt to know he loves him but he doesn’t want him to think he’s some sort of pervo freak who thinks about him in ladies’ underpants. Finn looks back at Kurt, wishing more than ever that he knew what Kurt was thinking.
“I could use some coffee,” Kurt says after a beat. It’s a pretty inconsequential statement after the look he’d been giving Finn, but whatever. Finn will roll with it. “Do you want to go to the Lima Bean with me?”
Finn is taken aback. Kurt’s never taken him to the Lima Bean before. It’s kind of like being invited into his secret clubhouse. “Really? Uh, yeah!” Finn tries to decipher what this means. “I mean, are you sure?”
Kurt turns the key in the ignition, puts the car into gear, and pulls out of the lot. “Sure about what?”
“That you want to take me there. I mean, do you think Blaine’ll be there? What’ll he do if he sees us together?”
“Blaine won’t be there,” Kurt assures. “The Warblers are meeting today and they start later than we do.” He glances back at Finn. “What does it matter anyway?”
Finn shrugs with one shoulder. “It’s just, the Bean is kind of your place, yours and Blaine’s. It’s special to you guys.”
Kurt scoffs. “It’s a coffee shop, Finn. Anyone can go there. I’ve taken Rachel and Mercedes there!”
“Yeah,” Finn explains, “but it wasn’t the same with them. Listen, you don’t have to pretend with me, okay? You don’t have to hide stuff from me either… not if you don’t want to.”
Kurt, who has kept his hands on ten-and-two and his eyes on the road so far, glances away for a second before focusing straight ahead again. He nods. “Okay.”
Finn tries to read Kurt, but it’s hard when Kurt isn’t looking at him. “Okay?”
Kurt laughs in exasperation and shrugs his shoulders. “I said okay!”
Finn throws his hands up in a gesture of surrender then turns to look out the side window at the scenery as it rushes by. They remain quiet for the rest of the ride.
---
Finn has never been a huge fan of coffee, so when he and Kurt reach the front of the line at the Lima Bean, he doesn’t really know what kind to order, telling Kurt to just get him something “regular.” He checks out the pastries and stuff instead, and before he’s decided on anything Kurt has already ordered and paid and is shooing him out of the way of the rest of the line. When the barista calls their names, there are two cups and scone on a little plate. Finn doesn’t withhold his approval.
“I thought maybe we could share it,” Kurt breezes.
Kurt leads him to a table and sits gracefully even though he’s carrying way more stuff than Finn is. Finn sits on the opposite side, and the second his weight lands on the seat he wonders if Kurt has ever sat at this table with Blaine before. Finn knows it would be counter-productive to ask so he doesn’t, but he feels out of place anyway. In his discomfort, Finn takes a drink of his coffee which is just on the side of too hot. He swallows reflexively and then hangs his mouth open to let some room-temperature air onto the scalded part of his tongue. When the pain fades away a bit, he notices that the flavor left in his mouth is sweet, milky, and… chocolaty. He braves another drink, drinking slower and blowing on it first this time; it tastes kind of amazing. His surprise and pleasure must show on his face, because when he looks to Kurt his eyes are crinkled at the edges, and Finn can see how the corners of his mouth quirk until Kurt takes a drink to obscure them.
“It’s a mocha,” Kurt answers even though Finn hasn’t asked the question. “It’s what I used to get.”
Finn drinks more, feeling his heat all the way down his throat. “Used to?” Finn’s not sure why anyone would give up something this good.
“When I first started drinking.” Kurt wiggles his cup a little in his hand to draw attention to it. “I’ve since moved on to the hard stuff.”
Finn nods, half listening and half sucking down his sugary beverage. Finn eyes the scone for a second before Kurt waves his permission for Finn to tuck into it. It has blueberries.
“Finn,” Kurt says, “we need to talk.”
“Uh oh.” Those words are never a good sign in Finn’s experience. “The scone is a delicious bribe, isn’t it?”
Kurt ignores the comment. The words come out like they are rehearsed. “Blaine asked me if I had ever kissed you.”
Whoa. That got Finn’s attention. “What?”
“After he kissed me.” Kurt’s draws his arms in close to his body and his legs are crossed purposefully. “Blaine kissed me, and the next words he spoke were asking me if I’d ever kissed you.”
Finn’s not sure what to do or say. He wonders if it would it be rude to chew and just listen, because he’s not sure how to react to that.
“I had been waiting for it for so long… All the duets and the coffee dates,” Kurt continues, ignorant of Finn’s wave of guilt, “and the sharing… I’ve been wanting him to kiss me since the second our eyes met.”
The admission feels like a kick to the stomach. Kurt still wants Blaine; of course he does. Kurt knows what Finn has to offer, and it’s nothing like what Blaine can. It is suddenly sparklingly clear that Finn never really had a chance. The scone is almost gone, but Finn can’t bear another bite, his stomach churning and the room feeling too hot. Is this why Kurt brought him here? To blow him off in a public place so that he wouldn’t make a scene?
“And then when it happens…” Kurt continues even though he doesn’t need to explain, “when it actually, finally happens, the first thing he thinks to ask is about you?” Kurt looks off to Finn’s left. It kind of seems like he’s talking to himself, until suddenly his eyes are intent on Finn’s. “What do you think that means?” Kurt asks, but it’s not harsh and it doesn’t even sound rhetorical. He just sits with his face expectant, like he’s is genuinely waiting on Finn’s insight. Finn wishes he had some.
“What did you say? When he asked you.”
“I said no… I mean, we hadn’t. To be honest, I was so thrown that I wasn’t thinking straight enough to say much of anything. I just remember feeling… like I’d ruined it somehow. Like it was supposed to be this huge life-changing moment and it wasn’t because… why? Because I wasn’t good enough?”
Finn shakes his head involuntarily. “Dude, that’s not the reason. You’re good enough; believe me.”
Kurt rolls his eyes, but it’s not derisive like he sometimes does, because his cheeks tinge pink a little. “That’s not exactly what I meant… but thank you.”
“Sure, man. If you ever need anyone to tell you how awesome you are at stuff, you know where to find me.” Finn looks away, slightly embarrassed, before returning to topic. “You guys have talked about this already, right? The whole me-having-feelings-for-you thing?”
Kurt nods tightly. “Yes. I hope that doesn’t bother you. I just… I needed someone to talk to.”
“Nah, it’s cool. When I was all confused, I talked to Burt about it.”
Kurt freezes for a second, before blurting, “Excuse me what?” like the phrase is one long word.
“Yeah… never mind.”
“Seriously, Finn?” Kurt’s voice gets a little shrill when he says it. “You talked to my dad?”
“I had to! I didn’t know what else to do! I used to talk to Rachel about feelings and stuff, but now…” Finn sees Kurt’s ire wane slightly at the mention of Finn’s broken engagement. “And I couldn’t come to you, because you were the reason I was all mixed up in the first place!”
Kurt shakes his head disbelievingly. “You could’ve still come to me. It has to be a better option than-”
Finn interrupts. “Kind of like how you’re talking to Blaine right now about your confusion over him?”
Kurt looks taken aback. “Okay. Point.”
The two sit in silence for a moment and Finn’s glad. He needs a second to catch up with everything they’ve just said. Finn feels like they are being pretty open, so he doesn’t feel like he has to hold back. “Can I ask you something?” Kurt sips from his cup and doesn’t object, so Finn continues. “Why now?” Finn asks.
Kurt just raises his brows in a nonverbal cue for Finn to continue.
“I mean, you and Blaine have been friends forever, and everyone knew that you two would eventually get to this point, right? He’s had, like, over a year with you. Why does he suddenly decide that he wants you now?”
Kurt is silent for a beat, before rebutting, “I think he’d ask you the same thing.”
Wow, okay. That kind of hurt, but Finn’s not really sure why. “Tushy.”
Kurt’s eyes are wide and then he blinks twice. “I think you mean ‘touché’. I really hope you mean ‘touché’.”
“Yeah, whatever. You know I don’t speak Japanese.” Finn is quiet for a long moment, looking down at the table where his cup has left a ring. He can feel Kurt’s eyes on him. “I’m sorry if I screwed things up with you and Blaine. Seriously. Just because I want…” Finn shakes his head to himself, before looking up at Kurt. “I just want you to have what you want, okay? Don’t worry about me.” Finn knows that this is what the good guy is supposed to do-to be all sacrificing or whatever-but it’s still hard. He really does want Kurt to be with the man of his dreams, but a secret, selfish part really wishes that the man were him.
“You can go tell Blaine that you’ve kissed me now and we’ve talked about it and I’m not what you want. That’s what he needs to hear, I’m pretty sure. You can still fix things.” Finn tries to pull up one side of his lip in encouragement, but he knows it comes out shaky. Now he just has to stay as normal and upright as possible until he can get home, flop in his bed, and wallow for a while.
Kurt tilts his head and narrows his eyes, but the expression doesn’t look angry. Kurt looks at Finn like he’s trying to figure him out, as if he’s the one that’s the mystery. Finn wishes he were in a humor to laugh; compared to Kurt, he’s an open book.
“Maybe we should get home,” Finn says gently. “I’m in charge of dinner and if I don’t start early, I don’t have enough time to screw things up and start over.” It’s a thin excuse, but Kurt just nods, picks up his things, and doesn’t call him on it.
---
After that day at the Lima Bean, Finn tries really hard to stop loving Kurt… not in the brother way, but in the wants-to-kiss-his-eyelashes way. It isn’t easy. Kurt lives with him; Finn is surrounded. Every time he turns around at home, Kurt is there being amazing and desirable: slightly less dressed up than at school, unbuttoned and flashing the thin skin at the base of his throat or his strong, pale forearms… a body part that Finn has never considered sexy on a person before. Sometimes when Finn flops down on the couch, it releases a cloud of Kurt-smell just to screw with him. Kurt is everywhere, filling every open space in his consciousness, and when Finn is feeling self-pitying and cruel, he wishes that high school were over and that Kurt was already gone, living whatever fabulous life he’s going to have. He always feels guilty after, but Finn knows he needs distance or he’ll never get over Kurt… which would make every Thanksgiving for the rest of his life really awkward.
Knowing what he should do and actually doing it are two very different things, however. He should get out of the house more, get out of the Kurt-fog that has him stumbling and blind. He could hang out with the guys; hell, he could go make some extra money at the shop. Instead he changes nothing of his daily routine, hanging around at home as usual, trying not to act obvious while soaking up Kurt’s presence like a lizard sunning on a rock.
Blaine still comes around and Kurt still goes to hang out with him at the Lima Bean, but they don’t seem to be boyfriends. Kurt hasn’t said anything to Finn about it, and when Kurt and Blaine are together they don’t kiss or hold hands or anything, at least not where Finn can see. If they’re together together, they are doing a good job of hiding it. Finn can’t bear to ask outright because he’s not sure which idea hurts more: that after everything Kurt has actually chosen Blaine over Finn, or that Kurt doesn’t trust Finn enough to think he should know.
It’s the Friday afternoon before Memorial Day and everyone is buzzing with energy at the prospect of a three day weekend. Rachel organizes an impromptu performance to “capitalize on everyone’s high spirits” as they practice for Nationals. They sing “It’s a Sunshine Day” in the school’s courtyard-Kurt calls it insipid-even though The Brady Bunch is so old that Finn has only ever seen it on Nick at Nite. Despite his previous condemnation, Kurt smiles and bounces during the song, not entirely immune from its upbeat quality. When the number is over, he’s flushed from the warm weather and exertion, and he smiles so hard his upper teeth show, just a little. He’s kind of painfully gorgeous.
Before Finn realizes what he’s doing, he’s slung his arm around Kurt and has him pulled tight and tucked into him. Kurt’s smile changes but doesn’t wane at all; he’s beaming, looking up at Finn without any reservation. Finn feels Kurt’s hand land firmly between his shoulder blades and purposefully slide down his spine to the small of his back; they never lose eye contact. Anyone watching them might see the gesture as brotherly, but Finn feels likes Kurt has burned a swath down his back, setting the nerves on fire.
The others shock them out of the moment, coming over to them to fist pound Finn (Mike) and kiss Kurt on the cheek (Tina). Kurt and Finn break apart, pulled in opposite directions by social demands. When Finn glances back at Kurt, who is surrounded by the girls vying for his attention, he wonders if Kurt feels as stung by the loss of contact as he does.
Kurt and Finn walk back to Finn’s truck after the group breaks up. All the other students are already gone, most of them not even having slowed at the Glee club’s spectacle in the courtyard. Finn’s truck is a lone island in the parking lot, so the walk seems private. Kurt is talking, but it must be the kind of thing to which he only expects Finn’s nodding, because that’s all Finn is giving him and Kurt isn’t complaining. Finn can’t focus; he’s still reeling from Kurt’s touch and can’t help but imagine taking Kurt by the hand, walking with him side-by-side, and taking him home in a way that means something more than it means now.
---
It’s Kurt’s turn to cook for Family Night, and as much as Finn loves his mom and her cooking, Finn kind of likes Kurt’s food better-not that he would ever say that out loud; he doesn’t need that kind of drama. Kurt asks Finn for help making dessert, but Finn knows he doesn’t really need it. Kurt’s probably just trying to teach Finn more kitchen things; he’s always saying how he worries that when Finn is on his own he will survive on aerosol whipped cream and canned cheese sprayed directly into his mouth.
Kurt picks a new recipe and says that he’ll bake the cake if Finn can warm up the berries. Kurt uses the stand mixer to make his batter and reminds Finn where to find the measuring cups and spoons. While the cake cools, Kurt supervises while Finn mixes his ingredients and boils them as directed. Finn stirs, but Kurt worries that he isn’t getting the spoon to the bottom, so he puts his hand around Finn’s, guiding his arm and the spoon alike. Finn stops worrying about the mixture, knowing that Kurt has it covered; besides, he’s too distracted by the way that Kurt is almost pressed against his back to be responsible for anything.
After dinner, when it’s clear that everyone is home for the night, Finn begs everyone to play Jenga. He knows it makes him sound like a kid, but he also knows that in less than a month he’ll be a high school graduate, and he’s afraid that these kinds of things won’t be okay anymore. Finn may be pretty clumsy when he dances-and walks and exists-but he’s kind of a prodigy when it comes to Jenga. When someone else’s shaky hands cause the tower to tumble, he talks a little smack and sets the stack up again. The foursome play until Carole decides to go to bed, leaving the men to put the game away.
Burt isn’t far behind Carole; he follows Kurt and Finn into the den, but he doesn’t get comfortable in his chair. Instead he perches on the arm of the couch at Kurt’s elbow. “Well, I’m bushed,” Burt announces. “I’ve got a lot to do at the shop before we fly out on Monday, so I’m gonna hit the hay. You boys gonna make a night of it?”
Kurt shrugs. “There are usually bad romantic comedies on basic cable on Friday nights. I thought I might stay up for a while and mock them.” Kurt turns to Finn. “Finn?”
Finn, who claims Burt’s comfy chair in his absence, gapes a bit, looking back and forth between the two Hummels. Finn knows that Kurt often makes fun of movies with his girlfriends; he’s found Rachel and Mercedes camped out on his bed for movie nights before. He’s never invited Finn though, making Finn wonder if staying means being relegated to the role of girlfriend.
Finn knows he could refuse and no one would think anything of it. He could go upstairs and play Pawn Stars on Facebook, beginning to create the distance from Kurt that he knows that he needs. He should leave, leave and protect his heart, but Kurt’s face is open and inviting and Finn replies “Yeah, okay,” before he can even make the conscious decision to speak.
Burt nods once at Finn then squeezes the muscle of Kurt’s shoulders, getting his attention. “Well, I’ll leave you boys to it. G’night, kids.”
Finn and Kurt wish Burt goodnight as he stands and heads up the stairs. Kurt snatches up the remote and searches through the guide until his eyes light up. “Ooh, we’re in luck! There’s a Jennifer Aniston marathon on TBS. Her rom coms are terrible.”
Finn watches for a few minutes, but never really catches up on the plot. “Did we start in the middle? Because I have no idea what’s going on.”
“Believe me,” Kurt replies. “It really doesn’t matter.”
Kurt is really good at mocking the movie. He can’t seem to decide what’s worse: the characters’ awful decisions or the offensively clichéd writing. “We get it! The man is insensitive and macho; the woman is controlling and neurotic. Clearly they deserve each other!” Kurt shakes his head. “It’s insulting.”
Finn nods mostly for show because he’s not really sure why Kurt is so angry. In the end, the man and the woman on the screen realize the error of their ways and fall into each other’s arms. Kurt makes an indistinct “ugh” noise and mutes the sound, turning to Finn as the credits roll. Despite his disgust, Kurt seems to be genuinely enjoying himself. “A movie marathon warrants snacks,” Kurt proclaims. “Don’t you think?”
“Dude, you read my mind.”
The two head for the kitchen and grab things to take back with them. Kurt grabs sodas-diet for himself and regular for Finn-and asks Finn to cut a couple of pieces of the cake. Finn also gets chips and beef jerky, which earns him a dubious look but no comment. They go back to the den, but instead of reclining back into Burt’s favorite chair, Finn plops himself down next to Kurt on the couch.
The second movie has already started by the time they get back, but they don’t miss much. Kurt launches into an assault right away and Finn does his best to keep up. “I guess this girl is supposed to be not hot because she’s wearing glasses,” Finn observes, “but she’s just as pretty as Jennifer Aniston.”
“Right? Why isn’t the movie about the sassy sidekick with the smart mouth?”
“Because there’s no way she’d go for the handsome douchebag?”
Kurt laughs. “And if a rom com isn’t reinforcing societal expectations, then what’s the point?”
Finn watches Kurt watch the movie. Suddenly, he wonders aloud, “Why do you watch these?”
Kurt sighs, considering the question. “Because Hollywood doesn’t make big budget movies about two men unless they have guns in their hands? Because as much as I hate to admit it, I’m looking for that rare film that gets it right? I don’t know. Why does anyone watch them?”
Finn considers that. “I guess it feels good sometimes… to see other people find what they’re looking for, even if maybe they don’t deserve it.”
Kurt turns to Finn with a heavy regard. Finn can feel his gaze even though his eyes never leave the television. “I mean,” Finn continues, “I kinda get these movies now. I get why people do weird, crazy things like chase people in the rain. Because when you love someone… when you want someone so much, you feel like you’d do anything. I can relate to that.”
Kurt is quiet for a moment; Finn can see him blinking in his peripheral vision. “Is that how you felt about Rachel?”
Finn looks down at his lap. “No. Not with Rachel.”
And with that, Finn knows it’s time to go; he’s embarrassed himself enough. Finn closes his eyes and just as he grabs the arm of the couch to heave himself up, he feels something soft and smooth on the corner of his jaw.
It’s Kurt’s mouth; Finn has really only felt it once, but it’s seared into his memory. Finn freezes solid, eyes still closed, waiting to see what will happen next; waiting to see if it’s all a misunderstanding. Finn feels the couch cushions shift beside him just seconds before warm lips press against the skin over his cheekbone. Finn breathes shallowly as Kurt explores him, his mouth caressing the various planes of Finn’s face, Kurt steadying himself with a hand on Finn’s shoulder and Finn digging his fingers into the plush fabric of the couch.
When Kurt’s kisses become lingering and wet, when they start sliding and teasing, Finn’s breath quickens and his eyes fly open. Without thought or warning, Finn falls upon Kurt, cradling his head with a hand at the base of his skull and dives into his mouth. In a blink they are horizontal, Finn acting entirely on instinct. He doesn’t hold back; he doesn’t have the control. He feels Kurt solid underneath him, solid and large and so good.
Finn kisses Kurt with a ferocity feels new and untapped. He pushes into Kurt’s lips with a force that would be too hard for some people, but Kurt is clutching at Finn’s back and holding him close, so Finn doesn’t consider letting up. Finn smashes his nose in the process though, and after a moment, he has to pull back to get oxygen back into his lungs. He breathes out and in again, but before he can get back to business Kurt blurts, “I’m not with Blaine.”
Kurt’s tone of voice shocks Finn out of his sex haze long enough to process his words. He pulls back to look into Kurt’s eyes and sees that his pupils are blown and his lips are swollen. “Okay,” Finn says habitually and then wishes that he were a good enough person to have remembered to worry about that. “Okay, good.”
Finn’s still breathing heavily, though a bit of his urgency has waned. Kurt looks up at him, his cheeks flushed and splotchy. He looks grieved somehow and Finn hopes it’s for the same reason that Finn is. Resting his weight on his elbows, he brings his hands to Kurt’s face. He feels the heat of Kurt’s cheeks on his palms and curls his fingers above Kurt’s ears and into his hair. He moves in slowly this time, giving Kurt the opportunity to object. He doesn’t. Instead he tilts his face up and meets Finn readily, opening his jaw and inviting Finn inside of him.
Kurt drags his tongue along Finn’s with such intention that it makes Finn shiver. It’s unhurried and indulgent, as if there is nothing in the world but them and this and time. Finn feels the heat and the tension between them build again and thinks that Kurt must feel the same by the way he can’t keep still. His hands run smoothly over Finn’s sides and back and his legs shift, causing his thighs to slide against Finn’s in a way that Finn’s body instinctually recognizes. Finn audibly grunts, his hips thrusting forward of their own accord. He’s not directly on top of Kurt; their torsos are skewed, so his arousal doesn’t make contact with Kurt’s body. The movement makes him shift his leg to balance himself and causes the bulk of his weight to fall across Kurt’s hips. Kurt reacts with a loud, musical, primal noise that tears Finn’s eyes open. Kurt tenses and before Finn can ask what’s wrong he feels a long, hot weight pressed in a line along his hipbone.
Finn instantaneously knows what it is; there’s only one thing it could be. The moment is both surreal and completely, undeniably real. Finn is aware how his face must look, but he can’t seem to control any of his muscles in that moment. Kurt looks up at him with an expression that breaks his heart. He’s seen it before; Kurt is waiting for Finn to disappoint him. In his regret Finn holds tighter to the parts of Kurt in his hands. Finn never wants Kurt to have to make that face again.
Finn looks Kurt straight in the eye. “Sorry, I… sorry.” Finn shakes his head; that’s not what he means to say. “It’s okay,” he whispers close to Kurt’s ear, the tip of his nose brushing Kurt’s cheek. “I am, too.” Kurt’s head turns so minutely, but somehow Finn knows what he’s thinking. “Go ahead.”
Finn closes his eyes and breathes, bracing for the contact. He doesn’t feel or hear Kurt moving until suddenly Kurt’s large hand covers Finn’s dick and Finn has to hold his breath in order not to shatter. Finn hums low in his throat, trying to get used to the sensation. “Kurt…” Finn has never heard his own voice so thick. “Can I? Please?”
Kurt nods, surprised and blinking slowly. Finn shifts all his weight onto one knee, shifting his weight and lifting his body out of the way so his hand can find the evidence of Kurt’s arousal. When it does, he feels all the air in the room go still. It spans his entire hand, heel to fingertips, and Finn feels his mouth fall open. There’s no denying it now; Finn has his hand on Kurt’s dick and yet the Earth still spins. Finn is as hard as he ever was and somehow even more in love, and he’s not scared at all.
“I’m not scared,” Finn breathes, and apparently Finn needs to grow a verbal filter, but once he starts down a road, he might as well walk it. “Kurt, I’m not scared.”
Kurt does the very last thing that Finn expects; he laughs. “I’m starting to get that impression.”
Finn starts to grasp at Kurt through his pants, curious and exploratory, but Kurt lets him go and stills Finn with his other hand. “Finn…” Kurt placates.
Finn breaks contact and keeps his eye on Kurt, worried that he’s crossed a line. “Sorry! Should I not…”
Kurt shushes Finn with a finger to his lips. His expression is soft and does nothing to slow the beat of Finn’s heart. Kurt points up to the ceiling above their heads, and at first Finn has no clue what he’s trying to say until he remembers that, oh god, their parents are just up the stairs and he and Kurt are on the couch in the middle of the living room. Well, at least that’s a good way to kill a boner.
“We should probably go up to bed,” Kurt says in a low voice, and suddenly Finn’s dick doesn’t care who is in the house. Finn’s reaction must show on his face because Kurt smirks in a sexy, cat-like way and stresses, “Separately.”
When Finn gets enough blood in his head to stand up, he climbs off of Kurt as gracefully as possible. He offers Kurt a hand which he takes, pulling him up as well. They clean up the mess on the coffee table and shut off the television before heading up the stairs. Finn’s door is closest to the stairs and he has trouble stopping there when he knows that Kurt is going to continue on to the next room. Kurt stops too though, and pulls Finn down to claim his mouth in a kiss that tastes like a promise. They kiss for too long, until they hear a real or imagined noise from their parents’ room. Flying apart, they suppress giggles when they realize that no one is coming out to catch them. Finn gives Kurt one more peck before turning into his doorway, though he takes a moment to watch Kurt as he walks away.
Finn sheds himself of his pants when he gets to his room and climbs into his bed. He’s tired, but his mind rushes with memories and echoes of sensation. He knows what he needs to sleep; he needs to get off, and for the first time Finn thinks that maybe imagining Kurt while he does it isn’t something Kurt would mind.
---
Despite Carole’s frenzy to pack and ready the house for her and Burt’s departure, the weekend goes by torturously slowly. Kurt and Finn are constantly together, but they are almost always in the company of one or both of their parents, and even if neither Burt nor Carole is in the room, they are almost assuredly nearby. Finn tries to keep calm and not look at Kurt too much, but he’ll catch his eye wandering to him if he sits still too long. Finn would worry about looking like a creeper if he didn’t keep catching Kurt doing the same thing. In response Kurt looks coyly away, but sometimes he’ll look back without inhibition, Finn daring to believe that the timidity is for their parents’ benefit and not Kurt’s. Finn feels like he and Kurt are dancing around something; it’s exciting and nerve-wracking and frustrating, but Finn tries his best to be patient. After all, at least they are both finally dancing.
Burt has a function in D.C. on the actual Memorial Day holiday, so he and Carole leave for the airport on Monday morning before it is even fully light outside. Kurt and Finn drag themselves out of bed to send them off, Kurt in pristine navy pajamas with white buttons and Finn in his faded The Hulk pajama bottoms, Carole hugging both boys in turn and lamenting the fact that they can’t come along. Kurt expresses his empathy, but reminds her again that they have school the next day.
“C’mon, honey. They’ll be all right. We’re only gonna be gone a coupla days.” Carole withdraws and Burt hugs them each in turn. “You boys have fun,” Burt throws out casually before tensing. “But not too much fun,” he clarifies, pointing his finger at Kurt and then at Finn. Finn swallows hard, but Kurt just rolls his eyes and pushes Burt towards the door as he insists, “I mean it!”
Finn helps his mom with all her luggage-Carole must be taking lessons from Kurt when it comes to the amount of products she uses-and waves goodbye to them as they drive away. Finn feels a little downtrodden. He wasn’t exactly making sexy plans for the rest of the day, but he can admit that he liked the feeling that such plans were possible. Burt seems to have kind of forbidden it though, and Finn is ready to comply until, once Burt’s truck is out of sight, Kurt slides his hand into Finn’s. When Finn turns his head to look at him, Kurt wears an expression Finn’s never seen before. Finn can’t describe it-not without using clichéd words like “electric”-but it makes the tiny hairs on his arms stand erect.
Kurt pulls Finn back into the house, Finn following without question. Kurt closes and locks the front door behind him and says something, but Finn is too impaired by the early hour and Kurt’s nearness to comprehend it at first. “Huh?”
“Let’s go back to bed. It’s too early to get up, even for me.” It sounds decisive, but Kurt just looks up at Finn and doesn’t move until Finn agrees.
Kurt guides Finn up the stairs, their hands still joined and their feet quiet on the carpet. Kurt stops in front of Finn’s doorway, turning to Finn with big eyes. Finn squeezes Kurt’s hand before letting it go, and in that moment it feels like the hardest thing he’s ever had to do. Kurt smiles a little but he looks pained too. Finn takes a breath, preparing to beg Kurt to stay, to follow him into his room; preparing to promise that he’ll keep it innocent if Kurt will just stay with him. Kurt prevents it though with a kiss to his cheek and the whispered word, “goodnight” in his ear.
Finn wakes later to feel his mattress jostling underneath him. Even if Kurt weren’t the only other person in the house, Finn would know it was him. “Kurt?” Finn slurs, turning his shoulders toward the dip in the bed but unwilling to open his eyes. “Is everything okay? Is the house on fire?”
“Everything is fine,” Kurt soothes, the fleshy pads of his fingers reaching out to graze the cut of Finn’s exposed tricep. “I just…”
Finn feels the blankets shifting across his skin as Kurt slides underneath them. Finn turns his body towards Kurt without thinking, facing him and rolling close enough to feel the pocket of room temperature air that Kurt’s entrance invited under the covers.
Finn finally opens his eyes. Sunlight slants in the windows but it still isn’t very bright out, so he hasn’t been asleep long. The beams light Kurt from the back, making his hair glow with a reddish hue. His hair is ruffled but his eyes are alert, causing Finn to wonder if he ever fell back to sleep.
Finn’s brain wakes up enough to process what Kurt was saying. “You just…?”
“It was too far,” Kurt breathes, their bodies close enough to share heat but not enough to touch. “I was in there, and you were in here… and I just didn’t see the point anymore.” Finn feels the tips of Kurt’s fingers graze his side, just under his ribcage. “It was too far.”
Finn feels his heart speed; he leans into Kurt’s space so that their eyes lock onto each other, and as he pulls Kurt into him he confesses, “You’re still too far.”
Instantaneously they find themselves pressed together from knees to shoulders in an equitable embrace. Finn rolls onto his back, pulling Kurt on top of him and probably pinning his arms, but Kurt doesn’t complain. They hold each other tightly, Finn pressing his nose into the soft skin behind Kurt’s ear, the room so still and quiet that he can hear his breath echo off of the contours of Kurt’s neck. Finn is so full-full of comfort and affection and motherfucking love-that even if he had his eyes open, he wouldn’t be able to see because the rest of his senses are so overloaded.
With as full as his heart is, Finn doesn’t notice how full some of his other parts get until they decide to make their presence known. Kurt is draped over Finn, squeezing with his arms, his face buried in the naked skin of Finn’s shoulder and his mouth open enough for Finn to feel the faint moisture of the inside of his lip. Kurt’s legs remain slack, his left leg resting between Finn’s open, relaxed thighs. This time when Finn’s hips involuntarily thrust, even through the layers of fabric between them, his hardness finds the perfect, sweet slide of friction against the firm muscle of Kurt’s thigh. Finn groans so deep and low in his throat that he can feel the vibrations in his chest.
“Finn.” Kurt says in a voice that is quiet, but still so sure and strong… way stronger than Finn feels right now. Finn can’t decide if it’s a warning or an invitation and he has to know… he has to hear it from Kurt that this is happening, that he’s reading it right… that Kurt is here with him for real.
“Tell me, Kurt.” Finn’s voice trembles, but he hope he covers his nerves when he turns his head, grasps Kurt by the scruff of his neck, and brings their foreheads together. “Please.”
“Yes,” Kurt breathes, the word airy and light but undeniably real. “Finn… yes.”
Kurt pulls back far enough to look into Finn’s eyes before he rolls off of him and onto his back, his hands reaching up to the top button of his pajama top. Finn props himself up onto his elbows for a better view and watches as Kurt methodically, deliberately frees each button. He doesn’t pull the two sides of the shirt apart, but as each enclosure separates, gravity pulls them apart a little bit more and exposes an increasingly growing strip of soft, firm skin. Finn doesn’t think Kurt means for it to be seductive, not with the way that his eyes are fixed on his task, but Finn can feel his lips dry out with his huffs of anxious breath.
When every button is undone, Finn has to grit his teeth to resist reaching his hands under the flaps of navy fabric, running his hands over Kurt’s shoulders, and tearing off the offensive barrier to finally, finally see the v-shaped torso that Kurt always keeps so carefully covered. He considers it, wants to, but the moment feels delicate, so he waits. He waits, his eyes glued as Kurt pulls the edges of the shirt apart, revealing the soft definition of his abs. He waits, as Kurt sits up enough to pull the top over his shoulders and arms, dropping it to the floor at the side of the bed. He waits, until Kurt squirms under Finn’s heavy gaze, grasps at the wrist that wears a thick leather band, and pleads, “Touch me, okay?”
Finn touches. He rolls to hover over Kurt, learning him with his hands; his fingers spread wide and eliciting such lovely sounds that he follows his caresses with his mouth, Kurt’s skin smelling faintly of lotion but tasting like skin. The flat plane of Kurt’s stomach jumps in time with each barely audible gasp; Kurt’s hands fly to Finn’s hair and he grabs on, Finn feeling the dull tug against his scalp.
Finn feels bold; he feels brave. He sees the faint, barely visible hairs that trail across the smooth patch of skin below Kurt’s belly button. He knows logically where they lead, but it isn’t enough; he needs to see. He presses his palm on the skin there, pushing firmly enough to feel Kurt’s contracted muscles resist the movement, feeling the band of Kurt’s pajama pants against his thumb and slipping under it, causing Kurt to whimper. Braver still, Finn turns his hand and takes hold of the waistband, the backs of his fingers resting against the smooth heat of Kurt’s body.
Finn looks up at Kurt, his cheeks glowing pink with heat, his mouth hanging open as he pants. The eye contact spurs Kurt into action. He tugs Finn up by his hair to meet his mouth, the hinge of his jaw already wantonly open. Their tongues meet and it’s dirty in a way that Finn’s never really felt before, cracking with tension and intention. Finn takes it as an invitation; he grasps the bands of Kurt’s pajamas and boxer-briefs, pulling them away from his body and down, doing his best to free Kurt’s dick. Finn can’t see what he’s doing, nor can he get the articles all the way off, but he can’t bear to part from Kurt’s mouth long enough to ask for help so it’s lucky that Kurt lifts his hips enough for Finn to pull them down somewhere around his thighs.
Without even thinking, Finn has his dominant hand around Kurt’s erection. Suddenly the air shifts; for the first time Kurt outright moans, his mouth separating from Finn’s. It shocks them still for a moment, breathing into each other’s mouths. Kurt seems to take a moment to recover before almost imperceptibly shifting his hips, cuing Finn to move his hand. Finn complies, at first keeping the strokes slow and too gentle to get them both used to it. It doesn’t take long, the motion familiar enough that the mechanics feel like second nature despite the odd angle.
Kurt’s arms lower, one to grapple Finn’s back and the other to stroke down Finn’s chest and stomach to find the bulge in Finn’s pajamas. Finn’s cock is already hot and throbbing, so the heat of Kurt’s hand that seeps through the worn knit is overwhelming.
“Finn,” Kurt implores and Finn knows exactly what he’s asking for so he nods. Finn rolls onto his back to shuck off his bottoms and fling them who-knows-where. Finn is sort of aware of Kurt pulling off his own half-discarded clothes and disposing of them, but Finn can’t manage to take his eyes off of Kurt’s erection. It’s long and shaped a little differently from Finn’s, the flesh itself dark and dusky in comparison to all the rest of Kurt’s glorious, milky skin. Finn thinks briefly that it should be weird; he’s never looked at a naked dude before and felt his mouth water, but it’s different with Kurt. Everything is different with Kurt.
They come back together in the center of the bed, facing each other on their sides. Finn takes Kurt in his hand again, immediately pumping from root to tip, causing Kurt to throw his head back and baring the pale column of his throat. When he tilts his head forward again, he looks first at Finn’s face with dilated eyes, but then his gaze travels down his body. Finn’s cock jumps at Kurt’s scrutiny.
Kurt reaches and grasps Finn there, his grip light and testing. He holds it, feeling the girth and the weight before daring an experimental slide. He looks back up to Finn. “I’ve never,” Kurt admits.
“Me neither,” Finn replies in a private voice. Not with a man, Finn thinks. Not when it felt like this. Not with you. “I’m just doing it like I would... ya know. To myself.”
Kurt nods shakily in acknowledgement. After a brief moment, Kurt’s grip becomes more assured, dragging the skin over the firmness of Finn’s shaft from just under the head to the base and back again.
“Oh god, dude.” Finn feels his toes curl. “Holy shit.”
“Yeah,” Kurt agrees in a thick voice. He leans closer to Finn, kissing him softly. The affection and gentility contrast starkly with his fierce, twisting grip.
Finn does his best to maintain a steady rhythm on Kurt with his hand, but he knows he occasionally falters and jerks when Kurt flicks his wrist just right. Finn tries the same kind of flicks and teases, trying to find ways to make Kurt bite his lip and let go enough to make the low, unbidden noises that Finn can feel vibrate through his bones. Eventually all technique flies out the window, Finn struggling to remain moving at all when sensation threatens to overtake him. It’s been an embarrassingly short amount of time when Finn feels the irrefutable weight in his balls. It’s so tempting to just come, to finally let go and feel a sort of culmination of the months of desire and need, but he doesn’t want to; he isn’t ready yet.
“Hey,” Finn says, but Kurt doesn’t seem to hear him. There are lines between Kurt’s eyebrows as he concentrates, so Finn tries again, his voice shaky. “Can we slow down?” In response Kurt slides his tongue over Finn’s upper lip which is almost enough to end it all. “Kurt,” Finn moans, drawing out the vowel sound. “I’m not gonna last, man. Please.”
Finn pulls his free hand from under his body and stills Kurt’s flexing forearm. Kurt exhales, nods a little as if he is just now processing Finn’s request, and lets Finn go. Finn rolls onto his back to breathe and get some control, but Kurt follows him. Kurt rests his shoulder and folded arm on Finn’s chest, kissing him sweetly on the mouth and then dragging his lips down the front of Finn’s neck to lick in the hollow between Finn’s collarbones. It doesn’t exactly help Finn to calm down, but it feels amazing so Finn runs his hands along Kurt’s spine in encouragement.
Kurt crawls between Finn’s legs to bring their mouths together again, and something about the position strikes Finn. Finn lays on his back with his legs spread, Kurt kneeling between them and resting his weight on his elbows as his tongue… fucks into Finn’s mouth. Something clicks in Finn’s head: this is sex, unequivocal and stripped. Maybe that’s a weird thing to suddenly realize, but in the whirl of emotions leading to this point, Finn never stopped to think beyond the instinct and desire. Now, with Kurt between his thighs in a position that Finn usually assumes, Finn can see it for what it is.
Kurt widens his knees, lowering his pelvis to align with Finn’s. Theirs dicks slide against each other, causing the muscles in Finn’s thighs to tense and clamp around Kurt’s hips. Finn grabs onto Kurt’s biceps, his fingers biting into the muscle as he holds on, every point of contact between his body and Kurt’s humming with sensation. When the head of Kurt’s cock drags and tugs at Finn’s, it leaves a spot of moisture, easing the glide. Kurt begins circling his hips in a smooth grind: a constant, pressured sweep of back and forth; Finn can’t really even detect a rhythm as Kurt thrusts and retreats in a seamless, mind-numbing swerve to which there is no respite, no room to catch a breath in the endless thrum of exposed nerve.
Finn pulls Kurt down so that their torsos are flush, needing the pressure of Kurt’s weight to tether him to reality. Finn can feel Kurt’s thighs flex as he pumps, unselfconscious and visceral, the perfect contrast to Kurt’s irregular, vulnerable whimpers. Finn can’t decide where to put his hands, so he lets them wander, trying to ground Kurt too, just in case he needs it.
Finn feels his thighs start to shake and he knows he can’t last. Finn mouths wetly at Kurt’s earlobe and whines, “I’m so close, Kurt. So close.”
Kurt hums tersely in acknowledgement, reaching under Finn’s shoulder for additional leverage, and doesn’t relent. “Go on,” Kurt encourages, and his voice sounds wrecked. “It’s okay.”
That’s it; Finn comes, his dick jumping away from his body in its spasms. His body stiffens, his muscles seizing into stone as Kurt just keeps moving, and Finn wonders if this is what dying feels like.
Once Finn comes down enough to think or feel anything, he notices Kurt’s rhythm stutter and falter. Finn wants to help him, wants to be the reason that Kurt runs flying over the edge, so he does what he’s been waiting for months to do. He gathers Kurt up in his arms and holds him tight. “Kurt,” Finn exclaims urgently, like he’s trying to get his attention from across the room. “I love you. I’m in love with you.”
Kurt’s forehead lands on Finn’s shoulder with force, somewhat muffling the long, obscene sound that tears from his throat. Finn can feel Kurt’s dick pulsing, can feel the moisture that splashes between their bodies. Finn knows the second that it’s over, because Kurt’s body goes slack except for his deep, rapid breathing.
Finn continues to hold Kurt to him, relishing his solid presence on his body. When Kurt tries to push himself up, Finn begrudgingly lets him and Kurt looks up to meet Finn’s eyes. Finn isn’t sure how to describe the look he finds there, but he hopes that Kurt is feeling everything he is: awe and elation and bone-deep satisfaction. They kiss again and it’s lazy, just a confirmation and reconnection, finding each other again after the way they came apart.
Kurt moves to roll off of him, so Finn extends his arm for Kurt to lie on. “Whoa,” Finn marvels as he lolls his head from side to side. He’s overheated, debaucherous, and working on getting seriously sticky, but he kind of couldn’t care less. Finn thinks that if everyone could feel the way Finn feels in this moment, humankind would never fight again.
The two lie together on their backs, Finn’s bicep pillowing the curve of Kurt’s neck. Their breathing slows until a stillness falls upon the room. In the silence it’s easy for insecurity to creep in, to wonder if they’ve gone too far too fast. Finn rolls his head to his side and Kurt does the same so that their eyes meet. An unrestrained smile blooms on Kurt’s face so Finn returns it, quelling his worry.
Kurt moves to face Finn but aborts the movement and returns to lying on his back, looking down at the mess on his stomach with a grimace. “Ugh,” he bemoans, looking at Finn with his nose crinkled in disgust. Finn chuckles, and despite being in the same predicament, he leans over Kurt and kisses the creases on his nose. The motion gets some of their mess on the sheets, causing Kurt to scold him. “Finn! Look what you’re doing! Don’t you have some tissues around here somewhere?”
Finn isn’t at all concerned. “Don’t worry about it. We might as well wipe off on them and throw them in the washer.”
Kurt looks doubtful, but after looking around the room for options, he complies. He rubs the fabric disdainfully between his fingers. “Plaid flannel. Seriously? It’s over eighty degrees outside!”
Finn shrugs with one shoulder as he cleans himself up. “It was still kinda cold out when I put them on the bed.”
Kurt’s eyes widen comically. He swings his legs off the bed and stands as he replies, “Excuse me for a moment while I go bathe in fire.”
Kurt walks around the bed toward the door so Finn has to scramble and reach over the edge to catch him. “Hey… don’t go.” Finn puts his hand in Kurt’s and pulls him a step closer to the bed. “Can’t we just stay here for a little while?”
“If you think I’m getting back into that pit of filth, you are seriously deluded.” Finn probably makes a pouty face, but it must be okay, because Kurt steps closer to him and runs his hands through Finn’s hair. “Come on,” Kurt says in a sexy, private voice. “How about you do something about those sheets and then we go take a shower?”
“Nah, we’re not too gross. Let’s go eat something first.” Finn scoots to the edge of the bed to stand up then freezes. “Wait. Did you say that we-” Finn gestures between the two of them with a finger, “-should go take a shower? Like, together?!”
Kurt tilts his head, smiles smugly, and pats Finn on the head. “You know, food does sound like a good idea. Let’s go downstairs… but put on some boxers or something. I don’t want you leaning against the counter like that.” Kurt gestures at Finn’s nakedness with an open hand as he leans over to retrieve his own boxer-briefs.
Finn obeys, finding his pajama pants thrown over his backpack. He steps into them quickly and rushes to follow Kurt downstairs. “So, the shower thing? After breakfast, that’s still on the table, right?”
Kurt just hums breezily as he enters the kitchen and immediately starts washing his hands. He shoots Finn a look that Finn’s seen a thousand times before, so Finn washes his hands too as Kurt bends over and digs in the drawer under the stove. Finn can’t help but drink him in: his back is wide at the shoulders but tapers down to a slim waist; his muscles and shoulder blades shift as Kurt retrieves a large, flat skillet. His dark red, almost certainly designer boxer-briefs ride low, exposing a dent on each side of Kurt’s spine just above each tight, round swell of Kurt’s ass. Finn realizes that he didn’t get to see it when they were naked before, so he imagines what it must look like and feels confident that it won’t be long before he gets to really see.
Kurt turns around and catches Finn ogling him. He looks expectant.
“Sorry… did you say something?” Finn asks as innocently as possible under the circumstances.
Kurt raises an eyebrow and one side of his smirk. “I said…” Kurt drags the word out, “that I’m in the mood for crêpes. What do you think?”
Finn can feel his smile spread across his face. “That sounds kinda perfect. How about I make the crêpes and you make the stuff to go in ‘em.”
“Are you sure?” Kurt jabs, but it’s flirty. “I don’t think you can afford another trip to the Le Creuset outlet.”
Finn steps into Kurt’s space, their bodies a hair’s breadth apart. Kurt tilts his head up as Finn tilts his head down to say, low and serious, “You can trust me.” After a pregnant pause, Finn steps to turn on the burner. “Besides… you’re with me, right?”
Finn watches the rhythmic expansion of Kurt’s chest as he leans a hip against the kitchen counter. “Yeah, I am,” Kurt admits. “We can do this.”
The two work side-by-side, Kurt whipping cream and macerating berries while Finn carefully and methodically produces crêpe after crêpe. He doesn’t burn a single one.
Part Four
Masterpost