Closest thing to a Finchel (or Glee) I could squeeze out. I'm proud of it, though, because I like the idea of Kurt and Finn being happy brothers. This is not my usual FanFic repertoire, being a family fic, but I hope you all like it and the mini Finchel-ness inside. Enjoy and best wishes. Oh, almost forgot! How epic were the Emmys? The Glee opener made my day, best thing ever! Tina Fey just made it cooler! Chris's line was my favorite (y'all know what I'm talkin' about). But I also liked Lea's, and Jane's, and Tina's, and Betty White's and - dang - there're too many! Tell me your favorite part or one of them. Also, sorta bummed they didn't win Outstanding Comedy Series but I guess Modern Family deserved it, and I liked their skit too. But there's always next year!
Finn awoke in a cold sweat with his heart drumming savagely beneath his ribs. As if from a muscle spasm, he jolted upright into a sitting position and the sudden movement unsettled his stomach. With a groan he pressed down on his newly tender abdomen and dizzily checked his digital clock: 3:00 A.M., it read in neon-green block letters. He had to hold back a curse which he normally wouldn't have, except for the fact he now bunked with Kurt. As a matter of fact, it was the other boy who had caused this early morning agony.
Not Kurt per se but he helped along the problem. The truth of the matter was Finn's brain was riddled with an uneasy thinking about the wedding later that day. In just a few hours, the name he so cherished, the name of his father—Hudson—would be transformed to that of Hummel. His mother told him that if he preferred Hudson he could stay one but it wasn't the name that upset him. It was the principle of the thing. Carole Hudson, his mother, was going to wed Burt Hummel, Kurt's father. At first the idea was ludicrous; he didn't want Kurt as a roommate for one. But the teenager had gotten over him, so now it solely remained that Finn wasn't ready to be given another father.
Mr. Hummel ("Call me 'Dad', bud," he had said but Finn kept on with his choice of moniker) was a very nice guy from what he knew, and even after his shocking confrontation they still contained a father-son friendship. However, the fact remained Finn hadn't known his true dad, but even so replacing him was impossible. Carole allowed him to keep the tin of ashes that held his dad's cremated body when they moved to the Hummel residence but it didn't change the reality that Burt was going to be his stepfather.
Finn dabbed at his clammy skin with his sheet, moistening it with his countless amounts of sweat. Mom'll have a fit at this, he thought as grayish blotches made way onto the prim snow-colored blanket. He pushed the thought to the side for the present moment, and stood from his bed, whose hot blankets heated his skin like boiling water. As quietly as he could, he stepped over the mounds of sporting goods and homework papers he'd tossed there before ambling to bed. He was surprised Kurt had permitted him to clutter the floor, but perhaps his future stepbrother was too excited about the day to come. Kurt had been even more ecstatic about planning Carole and his pop's wedding after all was settled between them after their fight. Now he used it as a fun time for family instead of a hopeless attempt to convert the jock. Picking out decorations, the guest list, and even Carole's dress was like Christmas Eve to him, and the date of the wedding was Christmas Day itself. Finn would shyly seclude himself in the corner when conversations of marriage plans sprang up, and Burt seemed to take heed. They both silently watched the game together whilst the more eager ones chatted, occasionally talking about the scene at hand. It hurt the tall football player to see Burt depressed but he couldn't change his opinion.
"Ouch!" he cried, hopping on one foot. Having hit the dresser in his blind journey across the room, he exclaimed aloud his discomfort, which resulted in Kurt rustling under his covers. Immediately, Finn ceased moving and breathing; a mumble and jerk of legs occurred, and then Kurt's body lay inert again. Finn examined his toe after counting backwards from ten in case Kurt wasn't really asleep; a red ring circled the sore spot and he knew it would soon inflate into a disgusting brown bruise. Better on my foot than on my face, he grumbled mentally, limping away as not to agitate his injury.
He made his way across the bedroom where there perched a black cell phone trimmed with glossy red edges. On it was a number he always called in a time of need: Rachel Berry's. Puck may've been his best friend but in troubled situations—if it didn't involve fist-fighting—he couldn't rely on his Mohawk-wearing companion. In his place stepped Rachel, the perfect consultant for your problems, especially if you were her gawky boyfriend.
Finn dialed the girl's number and held a palm over it as it rang—awakening Kurt was still not a priority. Once the hum was replaced by a voice, he held it up to his ear. "Hi, Rach," he murmured jadedly with a yawn.
"Finn!" yelled Rachel's distressed voice through the phone, "What's wrong? Why are you calling?" A gasp rang out on the other end. "You're not injured are you? Oh, Finn!"
"No injury but a bruised foot," he whispered, "And quiet, please; Kurt's asleep and he's touchy without beauty sleep." A silence was betwixt them before a sigh of immense relief echoed from Rachel's end.
"Thank goodness!" she said in a regular tone, "But why are you calling now? It's about three o' clock in the morning!"
"Yeah, I'm sorry," Finn responded, leaning against the bumpy wall with its blobs of paint dried unevenly. "I just woke up sweating." Again the silence screamed into the night with Rachel abnormally soundless at her house. His brown eyes traveled unto Kurt again but the boy stayed in restful slumber.
"Oh…" Rachel said, "I'm sorry. It's…it's the wedding, isn't it?" Now it was Finn's turn to be silent after a spoken word. Licking his lips, he imagined Burt's face on the man who sat in an old recliner.
"Yeah."
"I know you're still reluctant to accept the fact your mother's marrying but you have to." Rachel said, her tone gentle, "I don't want to sound like an adult—Heaven forbid—but it's reality, Finn. And you're just going to have to accept it. You like Mr. Hummel, right?"
"Oh, yeah!" Finn said, feeling as though Burt's presence was there and was eavesdropping, "He's super nice. He also thinks I have great football and musical skills. Praises me n' Kurt almost every day about it." Like a true dad, he found himself thinking.
"And you like Kurt, too, right?"
"Yeah, Kurt's cool now that he's, you know, not into me."
"So it's just…the dad thing." Rachel phrased this not as a question but as a statement for she knew all too well the truth behind Finn's masqueraded voice. He sighed in defeat, blinked a few times to resituate his head, and said "Uh-huh."
"I apologize," she said, "Why, if one of my fathers ever remarried—even though they aren't even married now—I'd feel bad too. There's really nothing I can do except offer my support."
"That's all I really need," Finn said, "I love you." A hesitant calm, and he could practically sense the smile on her cheeks.
"I love you too." she responded, and then they both hung up.
At least I can breathe in this suit, Finn mused, glancing down at the tailored tuxedo made specially for the Hudson. He looked up again to spot Burt in a resembling tux as the two stood at the altar. He looked odd—a different odd—without his trademark trucker hat on his head, and the revealed baldness almost made Finn cringe and pat his head. It wasn't as odd or cringe-causing as his mother in a lacy dress that reached to the floor, her veil precariously perched upon her head. Not that he thought his mom looked ugly; it was simply that she was his mom in an attractive dress. He smiled at her from behind Burt, who was all she had eyes for. Finn and Kurt had both been selected best man for the wedding, being the only children. One of Finn's mom's canasta buddies was the maid of honor, but he truthfully couldn't remember if she was Betsy or Jenny—or maybe Liz.
Carole grinned back at her husband-to-be and he grinned back lovingly, a twinkling in his eyes. Up she stepped in front of him by the altar. "This is it," he heard Burt whisper.
"Uh-huh." his mom stated. The priest, clothed in long purple satin, held out his heavy Bible and adjusted his limp spectacles.
"We're gathered here today…" he began. Finn's eyelids drooped as the ceremony wore on; his legs had stiffened awhile back and they wobbled as the wedding progressed. Lengthy rituals always fatigued him, whether they're church services or school plays (another reason to like Glee Club: you perform, not watch). Once recognizable words seized his ears, his eyes opened widely of their own accord.
"Do you, Carole Hudson, take Burt Hummel as your lawfully wedded husband to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, for as long as you both shall live?" Carole's eyes traveled unto her son before she spoke. Finn felt the intensity of many gazes on him like lasers. His brown irises stole a peek in the pews; Rachel—slim in a white-and-black dress that only reached her knees—bobbed her head ever so slightly. Finn then looked back to his mother and, adorning a gapped-tooth smile, nodded too.
"I do." Carole said, and as the priest said his final words she and Burt kissed. It nauseated Finn, who turned away, whilst his new stepbrother dabbed at the corners of his eyes.
"It's," sniffed Kurt, "just…so beautiful!" Then he began sobbing gleefully.
It's been seven hours and fifteen days…since you took your love away…I go out every night and sleep all day…since you took your love away…
Rachel's head nuzzled into Finn's neck fondly, her wisps of umber hair tickling his throat. His arms were wrapped around her hips and pressing her to him in affection. The reception was serene with the patrons dancing placidly to the voice of Sinead O'Connor. He spotted Mercedes (Kurt's "date" for the evening) and Kurt swaying and sometimes giggling as they gossiped in hushed tones.
Carole and Burt were together on the dance floor too; Finn had never witnessed his mother glide so gracefully as she did in Burt's arms. The two had inescapable smiles plastered on their cheeks and Finn saw the love in their eyes was more profound now. He'd seen such a look in Rachel's stare many times and he could finally comprehend how his mom felt.
'Cause nothing compares…nothing compares to you…
Father wears his Sunday best!
As the tranquil tune of a woman's voice was replaced by the upbeat 80's music of Madness, Rachel and Finn pulled apart. They both laughed together as their gazes caught Mercedes and Kurt dancing in sync, hips swiveling and hands flailing—their creatively positioned steps appeared choreographed, which they no doubt were considering it was them. Rachel took Finn's hand and led him away from the dance floor to the snack table. She began fixing herself a salad ("They keep you fit and thin," she explained, "Though not very tasteful."). Finn chuckled at her and looked again over at his parents. His mind had been curious about them all day, his gaze reverting to them regardless of the current activity. This time Carole had scampered off to verbalize with her canasta pals while Burt leaned against the second buffet table alone. A sudden load weighed down Finn's heart; he knew what he had to do. He needed to face Burt as a son now. It'd happen sooner or later, so why not get it over with?
"Hey, BRB." Finn said, waving away to his girlfriend. Rachel smiled at his joking text-talk and continued to harvest tomatoes for her salad. Wiping lingering perspiration from his brow, Finn awkwardly moved over to his stepdad.
Burt was torn between laughter and embarrassment as he observed his biological child dance with his best girl. Everyone was laughing at the flamboyance of their dance but neither noticed as they too guffawed and bopped to the beat. It stalled Finn from speaking to Burt but he refused to permit himself to ignore the inevitable.
"Hi," he said quietly, and Burt turned to see him. He forced a half-grin, and it had traces of melancholy.
"Oh, hey, Finn." Burt replied. Finn shifted his mass onto his left foot, chewing his lower lip in anxiety. His eyes avoided Burt's face, instead landing upon Carole's.
"Congrats," he said. Burt gave him a perplexed look but simply said "Thanks." Stupid! Finn thought, You don't say that when you're the frickin' kid! Stupid! Quinn was right, you're an idiot.
"Mr. Hummel?" he said, his eyes still on the bride. Burt sighed, perhaps upset by the lack of the name "dad".
"Yes?" he said. Finn finally retracted his eyes from his mother's laughing face to stare at the indifferent one of Burt's. He gulped, a blush creeping unto his face.
"W-Welcome to the fa-family," he said, "You and K-Kurt." It took the man a minute to process the boy's words, but once he did a real grin lit up his face and he enveloped his stepchild in a hug.
It's not a fairytale ending—Finn didn't suddenly come out and call him "Dad". It didn't work that way. He accepted the fact of Burt and Kurt being his family, though, so I guess it's semi-fairytale. All he knew was that his mom got a great guy, he got a fun-loving bro, and he was blessed to have Rachel as a supportive girlfriend.
So he lived happily ever after nevertheless, I guess.