Sequel to Holding On to You, dedicated to Taye because I honestly thought she was going to die from hyperventilation while screaming at me to write one…anywhoo, picking up where I left off. Enjoy!
Kurt
Thirteen days, nineteen hours, twelve minutes. Basically: best two weeks ever. Even though it started off with Finn Hudson—forever my Elvis—scaring me almost quite literally out of my jeans, it continues on more blissfully than ever now that jeans are generally unnecessary. Thanks to his and Puck's joy fight with my bullies, I can now walk around McKinley High without the fear of being shoved into a locker or being called names. The last time someone tried that just last week, my superhero boyfriend dumpstered him. Glee is great, even though Mercedes and I, the true stars, are still given dirty looks for the Cheerios thing, which in itself is alright besides Miss Sylvester. Two weeks of pure, bumpy albeit, bliss.
Every morning, Finn comes over to drive me to school. This Monday is no different. At the time, I'm in the kitchen preparing a healthy breakfast fit for a family since neither my father nor boyfriend know a thing about nutritious foods. I don't mind cooking for them anyway, besides the fact that I have to wear the awful apron to protect my favorite red cardigan. Finn walks in promptly at seven-thirty as I'm serving the fried egg whites.
"Good morning, Mr. Hummel," Finn says. He's learned that Dad likes being addressed properly by his favorite football player.
"Morning, Champ," Dad says, looking up from his paper with a cheesy grin. "I heard you did pretty great with the basketball game last Friday. How badly did we kill them?"
"It was pretty close, sir," Finn says. I secretly grin at that cheesy look that Finn always wears when he's trying to impress.
"Finn, would you like some orange juice?" I ask, motioning toward the fridge. He instantly understands it as one of the only areas in the kitchen out of Dad's view.
"Yeah," he says, smiling brightly. He drops his backpack beside his usual chair while Dad dives into his food.
Finn walks over to the fridge where, what do you know, I happen to be lingering. He opens the door loudly for a believable sound effect while I steal another of his precious kisses. He backs away with an obvious blush while pulling the carton of juice from the fridge. I have to refrain from giggling while he trips over his own feet on his way to the table. I sit across from my Dad, glad to finally be rid of that awful apron, and we all begin eating.
"So, you two…any plans lately?" Dad asks conversationally. I know he just wants to know the next time we're all planning to have dinner at Finn's house. I'm not sure what Dad enjoys better, Carol's excellent cooking or her fabulous company.
"I'm sure if you give her a call, plans could be made," I say with a slight challenge in my voice. Dad hates when he thinks his manly courage is being questioned.
"Call? Call who?" he says obliviously.
I roll my eyes and take a bite from my toast. Dad goes back to reading his paper, probably trying to avoid the current topic of conversation. Everything is silent for a moment, the three of us dedicatedly focused on our meals. After that moment of strain, I suddenly freeze when I feel Finn's fingers nudge my knee, walking slowly across my leg. I glance up to see him still concentrating highly on his food. A strange smile on his lips tells me that he knows exactly what he's doing. I try not to let it show on my face…I've always been a better singer than actor. I bite my lip painfully from trying to remain silent and I must look like a steaming porcelain doll from my lack of ability to control my expression.
"Boys," Dad says in a warning tone before sipping his coffee. Finn's other hand instantly appears on the table, along with that cute blush from before. Dad's still really cool about the boyfriend thing, though I know it makes him a little more than uncomfortable when we're being friendly in his line of sight. For his sake, we hold back. Carol doesn't mind so much though; that's the one thing they don't share.
We quickly finish eating and hurry out the door, not wanting to be late for school, though neither of us could care less that we're probably not going to make the late bell. Once outside and in Finn's car, he doesn't hold back from instantly pulling me into his arms.
"Good morning," he says into my ear, holding me even tighter.
"You're late," I say, leaning away. "Now there's hardly any time…"
"For you, I think the clocks can make an exception," he points out, brushing his hand gently across my cheek. Before I can look away and blush, he pulls my chin up to he can lean down and kiss me in that breath-taking, oh-my-god-the-world-is-born way that he does so very well. With a brilliant smile, he starts up the car and backs out of the driveway.
School is boring, to say the least, when the whole time I'm just thinking about what I could be doing with Finn. Glee helps as a distraction at lunch, especially when we're singing that fantasmic explosion of lights and sound, Gaga. Another upside to this next perfect week—seeing everybody walk around school like complete dorks in their costumes. I can't wait to get home and work on mine. Or work on Finn, whichever one just happens to come first.
I must really be losing myself if Rachel and Jesse being their own power couple doesn't irritate me. I mean, I get pushed back from the solos and everything, but then that puts me right in line with Finn…currently my whole world. The whole time that Schuester is teaching us the new routines, Finn and I are just trying to sneak in mini conversations while we can. So what if it's about video games which I can now be an expert on? I'd take Finn and his zombies over Alejandro any day.
After lunch, I let Finn cheat off my papers in Spanish because I'd rather he not fail by asking Britney for help. Then I have my gym class. As usual, I am the target of whatever game we're playing, even if the game has nothing to do with actually harming people. Seriously, I got hit with at least seven badminton birdies at once. How does that happen? But I don't mind so much. What I do mind is the stupid bell taking its own sweet time to ring!
Once school is over, there's another hour and a half of Glee practice and then we're finally able to go home. We go to Finn's house because it wouldn't be fair to his mother if I held him in my basement all the time. While we wait for her to leave for work, we play video games. Like I said, I am now a total expert at zombie killing and I actually manage to come within a ten point range of Finn's masterful high score.
Carole finally says her goodbyes and Finn wastes no time dragging me up to his room for what we've been dying for all day.
Finn
It's late in the evening, even though there's no sunset through the rain clouds. Neither of us mind—rain's always been the perfect metronome. I follow along to it while singing REO because that's still my Kurt Only song. He still blushes whenever I tell him that.
I open my eyes and look down at him, wrapped tightly in my arms. I never understood why Puck and the guys always made such a big deal out of cuddling as though it was comparable to wearing lipstick. With Kurt it's just…natural.
He notices that I've stopped singing and he looks up at me with those soft puppy eyes I adore so much. "Something wrong?"
"No," I say with a smile. "I was just thinking about how much I love you."
"Love you too," he says, though his cheeks are bright red. "But don't stop. I like that song."
"Do you love me more than music?" I ask curiously.
"Finn, you are music," he replies easily. "There's no escaping it, though I doubt I'll ever want to."
I look up at my ceiling thoughtfully. It would be interesting to see what it's like to actually be music forever…I look back down at Kurt who seems a little put off by my sudden silence.
"I'll always be your Streisand if you'll be my Speedwagon," I say with a playful smile.
"Switch it around and you've got a deal," he laughs.
I'm about to pick up the song when his stomach suddenly gurgles. "Hungry?"
"Ice cream," he says instantly, sitting up. He pouts his bottom lip and widens his eyes. "Pwetty pwease?"
I roll my eyes and sit up as well, looking around my room. Clothes are strewn everywhere, though it's easy to tell them apart. Kurt's are the brighter, softer, brand name fabrics. I've just got jeans, a tee, and boxers stuck to my ceiling fan. As soon as we're dressed, we turn to face each other because he's a lot better than a mirror. At one point, I frown and Kurt stops fixing his hair, probably worried that he's made a mistake.
"What's wrong?" he says, straightening his shirt.
"Not wrong," I say quickly. "It's just…something's missing."
He watches as I open a drawer from my dresser and pull out a necklace. It's small, hanging on a thin black rope with a pendant made from some white rock and an elegant engraving on the front. He holds perfectly still while I place it over his head, then looks down as I take a step back.
"It was my dad's," I say, watching as he examines the pendant. "He's wearing it in a picture my mom's got."
"Finn, I couldn't—" he begins, but I shake my head.
"Looks better on you any day," I assure him. "Happy two weeks."
"Well," he says with subtle overjoy, "it is rather…completely gorgeous."
I laugh and pull him into my arms, squeezing tightly. He wraps his little arms around my waist as though he'll never let go. When he finally does, I lead the way downstairs and out the door.
I drive us over to the mini mart which is on a mostly deserted street. Rainy Mondays are not preferred conditions by Lima residents. We go inside and head straight for the freezer units.
"Cherry," he purrs eagerly, reaching for the dark pink pint of ice cream.
"Is that your new favorite or something?" I ask. It seems that anything we do that involves food somehow manages to work in cherries.
"Yes, as a matter of fact," he says simply. "Just like now I love rain, grey tees, bruises that make you hiss, lockers after basketball games…basically anything Friday-related."
I roll my eyes, but I understand what he means. Every time I see something that even remotely reminds me of that Friday, my heart goes into mini over-joy-panic-attack mode. Just to show him how much I get it, I press him up against the cold glass of the freezer units and pin him there.
"Finn, security cameras!" he whispers harshly while looking up at the little boxes in the corners of the ceiling.
"Do you of all people really care?" I laugh against his lips. I can feel his heartbeat, so near to my own, flutter wildly.
I can see the slight dilemma on his face as his brain battles it out. I'm probably not helping, teasing him with the close proximity the way I am. His Downstairs Brain obviously wins the fight because he grabs onto my hair and forcefully closes the small space between our lips with a light gasp. Within moments, I'm completely lost. My mind is so absorbed with him that nothing else really seems to matter. Somehow I end up pushing him a few inches higher on the freezer and he has to wrap his legs around my wait just to keep from sliding back down. The glass behind him is all foggy from steam and every little movement we make against it is traced.
"Ahem…" somebody clears their throat. Kurt and I both freeze, very slowly turning our heads to the side. Artie. His eyes are extra wide, magnified by his glasses. "Um…hi, guys."
I quickly pull my hands away from the Kurt's jeans and his feet instantly drop to the floor.
"Buddy, what's up?" I say, hoping he didn't notice my voice just go up two octaves too high.
"Just trying to get to the ice cream," he says, pointing to the door which is still steamy. "You?"
"Nothing," we both say at the same time. "All's good."
"Good," he says, but it's clear by Artie's mischievous expression that he knows exactly what was going on and that by tomorrow, Tina will know, therefore the rest of the girls in Glee. Kurt quickly picks up his ice cream from where it's dropped on the floor and says a quick farewell to Artie before dragging me away.
We walk away from the store, Kurt trying to eat without breaking his plastic spoon while I watch supportively. As we walk past an alley separating the store from the next building, he suddenly stops.
"Kitty!" he whispers, trying not to scare away the figure in the darkness of the alley.
"Yeah, cute," I say dismissively. The thing honestly looks like a dust bunny with rabies.
"Shouldn't we take it to a shelter or something?" he says worriedly. He's got that lost puppy look again and I know I can't deny him a thing.
"I've still got my tuna sandwich from today's lunch, if it's hungry," I offer. "Want me to get it?"
Kurt beams at me then reaches up on tiptoe to kiss my cheek. As I walk back to the car, I hear him calling to the furball. It takes a few minutes for me to dig out the sandwich from my backpack. When I shut the car door and turn around, Kurt's disappeared and I can't hear his voice anymore. As I'm about to call out for him, I see him backing out of the alley with a frightened expression. He sees me and instantly begins backing toward the mini mart. Following him are the two guys who Puck and I beat up last week. One of them is holding a bat. Kurt's leading them away from me on purpose.
For just one moment, I'm completely paralyzed by my fear of the unimaginable. In that moment, the guy with a bat swings. Kurt's arms instinctively cover his face, bless him, but the bat still gets a clean hit on the side of his head. His small body crumples to the ground and the guy tosses the bat aside so he and his buddy can start kicking him. My legs can move again and I charge forward.
"Kurt!" I screech, but it does nothing to stop the attackers.
I snatch up the bat as I run and with a well aimed hit take out the first guy's knees. Two more hits gets the second one to topple over as well. I want to do more than just stop them. I want to erase them from existence. But Kurt's hurt too badly for me to push him aside. I fall to my knees and hover over him, too worried about causing any further damage to actually touch him.
"Kurt?" I whisper, suddenly unable to find my voice. His eyes flutter rapidly, weakly, for just a moment. Then he is still.
From his pocket, that familiar Madonna ringtone sounds and it suddenly clicks that I already know what to do. I carefully reach into his pocket and pull out the phone since my mom's still got my phone. I turn away Burt Hummel's call and dial 911. After telling the paramedics where to find us, I put the phone in my jacket pocket and leave my hands at my side, suddenly feeling very useless.
After three long, grueling minutes, I hear the ambulance, ever so slowly drawing nearer. It finally arrives, accompanied by a police cruiser. Two guys in blue carrying their equipment come running and tell me to move aside. They rip open his favorite cardigan sweater to make way for the paddles which make his body jump a few inches into the air. Again, I notice something's missing and I stand up to look around. Dad's necklace is on the concrete, lying amid one of the many blood puddles covering the side walk.
"We've got a pulse," one of the paramedics announce as I pick up the pendant and turn around.
"Son, you riding with him?" asks one of the officers as they easily lift Kurt onto the gurney.
"Yeah," I nod, noticing for the first time that I feel completely numb. I sling the necklace over my head before jumping into the back of the ambulance and sitting down where I wouldn't be in the way.
As we drive away from the mini mart, the paramedics continue working on Kurt. By their frustration, I know that something's wrong. The thought makes me sick to the stomach.
One of Kurt's arms is swinging loosely, barely brushing the floor. I reach out and take that hand, feeling how dangerously cold he is. Blood is drying on his skin and his fingers refuse to react to my touch, but I'm not letting go anytime soon.
A/N: It's been a while but for the sake of stopping my friend from having a panic attack, here's the sequel to my first Finn/Kurt story. Feedback fuels the fire and reviews are love!