Disclaimer: I don't own this show, its characters, or anything else related to it. Don't sue me.
Author's Note: Spoilers up and through "Theatricality." Takes place just after the final scene in the episode.
The thing that turned it around, strangely enough, was remembering Rachel say her dads couldn't sew. Which seemed off to Finn, because weren't gay guys supposed to be good at the whole...fashion thing? Kurt was, or tried to be, anyway, but most of the time he ended up looking like a mismatched couch walking around. And Finn was happy that Kurt was happy in his...outfits. But he didn't want to, you know, deal with it 24/7.
And then It happened. There was It, and then there was that Thing, and then Finn didn't know what the hell was going to happen because he was still kinda in the middle of that Thing. But It was easy to remember: frustration, concern, fear, rage (from somewhere, about something, maybe not even at Kurt) and then the big keg of guilt that was still sloshing around in the pit of his stomach.
He'd made it as far as the kitchen table before his mind couldn't take it any more and he put a fist on the table and his other hand over his eyes and tried really hard not to cry. Because, damn; he was trying so fucking hard not to lose it in front of Kurt but...that room! It was just...faggy was the only word he had. No. It was the first word that came to mind, there were others, he just had to think but he didn't like thinking because that led him to dangerous conclusions so he just left that alone. It was...
Kurt. He walked in that room and he saw Kurt plastered all over it. Which made sense because it was Kurt's room to begin with. But it was supposed to be theirs and even though Finn didn't want it to be he was kind of hoping Kurt would have tried a little harder. Didn't he know how hard it was dealing with a guy who's got a crush on you when he's your friend that you don't want to hurt and actually kind of admire in a weird way because he's got balls the size of Texas for being who he is and never being scared to be it.
And thinking all that led to remembering Rachel talking about her Gaga outfit and her dads not being able to sew and then it was that Thing: Kurt kicked. Like, literally. He was the prissiest boy Finn'd ever met but he could kick a football like any good college kicker. Maybe even some of the crappy NFL ones. There was some tiny little part of him that was masculine, even if the rest screamed, "GIRL!" from a hundred yards out. And even though Rachel's dads were totally gay, even they couldn't sew. So...maybe gray was Kurt's favorite color for a reason.
"Mom?" he'd asked an hour later when he'd recovered, Burt had plunked down in the living room, Kurt hadn't come up out of the basement and his mom had just gotten home and hadn't even seen Burt yet.
"I need you to help me with something. It's for school."
They didn't say anything. Finn kind of expected it to go down like that. Actually, he half-expected Kurt to take a swing at him, for some reason he couldn't explain. And he kind of definitely wanted him to.
"Red's your color," Kurt finally managed. "I thought it was sky blue because it offset your eyes so well but clearly...I was wrong."
Finn tried very hard not to squirm. Apparently he didn't do so well.
"I'm flirting again, aren't I?" Kurt asked, putting a hand to his temple and then thrusting it out into space, pacing. "I just...I don't know when I'm doing it. I know, that's weird, but-"
"It's not weird," Finn muttered. Then he coughed and repeated, "It's not weird. It's you."
Kurt gave him one of his bleary, watery stares. Finn got nervous. Then Kurt laughed a little.
"Only you, Finn Hudson, would put it so plainly and yet be so absolutely right on target," he said. Finn shrugged and smiled lopsidedly.
"So, um...I came down here because I thought you might help me with something," Finn started. Kurt looked on, nodded. "I...I kind of want to keep this. Hang it in my closet. Remind me of what I did, you know?"
"You mean, standing up for me," Kurt said. His face was unreadable.
No, that should just be something I do because you're my friend and I don't want to see you get hurt. He wanted to say it so bad. But he couldn't.
"Sort of. I mostly wanna remember the look on your face when I started calling the room...what I called it," Finn said. Kurt looked down at the floor and hugged himself faintly. "Your face...y'know, I told myself, when my dad died and I saw how Mom was, I told myself I was never gonna hurt anyone the way he did. I was so mad at him. It's funny. They die and you're supposed to be sad and all you can do is get angry."
"I know," was all Kurt whispered. They shared the silence.
"So...I was hoping you could help me get out of this. Mom kinda sewed me in to it this morning," Finn admitted, blushing a little, gesturing down at the red Gaga dress he was still wearing.
"Are you sure?" Kurt asked.
Finn took a deep breath.
"Yeah. I mean, I'm gonna be honest; I'm still not comfortable with you, like, totally. But I know you wouldn't make a move on me or anything like that," Finn said. Kurt shifted a little. "I've always known that."
Kurt didn't say anything for a little bit. Then he said, "You know, I got the partition because I thought it'd made you more comfortable. Give you some privacy so you wouldn't feel like I was...peeking."
"Yeah, I know," Finn muttered. And really, that's what set him off. He saw that...that thing and he just couldn't take it anymore because it was all so damned unfair; Dad was dead, Kurt's dad was dating his mom, the jocks were being stupid, Regionals was coming up, Rachel was dating Jesse, Kurt had to hide who he was even with him but Kurt never hid and it was all because he was...what?
Afraid. Afraid; desperately, mind-numbingly afraid Kurt would touch him there or there or anywhere really and Finn wouldn't stop him in time because it didn't matter who was touching him as long as they cared (he'd learned that after how horrible it was with Santana)and Kurt would think he was in love with him and he wasn't, he just liked being touched, being held, being loved by girls, by guys and it was so fucked up and he didn't want to kiss him or anything but it was still there. The thought. The fact that he knew he wouldn't mind if Kurt and he were to...touch.
Finn held his arms straight up in the air.
"I can't believe I'm saying this, but...strip me, baby," he said, grinning. Kurt raised an eyebrow and held out a waggling finger.
"If you think you're going to seduce me like that, Finn Hudson, you've got another thing coming. Besides, you didn't even buy me dinner," he joked back, smiling himself as he stepped in closer, businesslike, not tentative.
"I'm cheap," Finn muttered, still holding on to the grin for dear life. He closed his eyes once he felt Kurt's small cold hands (funny how he knew they were cold even through the shower curtain) and tried really, really hard not to get hard. It wasn't easy.
But, as he opened one eye to squint down at Kurt who was matter-of-factly stripping him without a single longing glance or sigh or romantic girly cliché in sight...maybe things were going to be okay.
So he relaxed.
Maybe a little too much.
"Oh!" Kurt jerked back. "What in Richard Simmons' name did you eat? Chili dogs and baked beans? Ugh..." he trailed off, backing away, waving the air. Finn just grinned.
Yeah, things were going to be just fine.
Author's Note: Please review! :) Or...Kurt gets his blush switched with powdered mac and cheese sauce.