What Ifs and Would Be's
Puck prays for Burt Hummel to come out of his coma, and Finn prays to get popularity and the opportunity to touch his girlfriend's boobs. He thought he had a direct line to God, only God wouldn't have put Sam in the hospital for Finn's sake, and he sure as hell wouldn't have given Rachel's rack higher importance on the cosmic scale than the life and health of a good man.
So yeah, you could say that Finn's feeling a little jaded. But more than that, Finn's feeling a lot guilty.
The next time he looks in a mirror, the ungrateful reflection staring back at him makes his stomach sink and his head pound and his smile drop. And the next time he looks at Kurt Hummel, he gets that same feeling, only magnified ten times over. He knows what it's like not to have a father, but Kurt's the one who might have to know what it's like to lose one, and the best Finn can do is yell at him for not calling him with the news and then pray to Grilled Cheesus to be quarterback again. He sickens himself.
While his dad's in the hospital, Kurt's staying with the Hudsons. It was a little awkward at first, like when Kurt got back from the hospital earlier than Finn expected and walked in on him getting to second base with Rachel. But they've figured it out since then. They've figured it out so well that it feels like they're doing more than just cohabiting the same space now. Kurt drives back from the hospital every night in time for Lean Cuisines on the couch before they go back to Finn's room, and at first Kurt would study in silence and the only noise in the room would come from whatever aliens Finn was busy blowing up, but they're talking now, too—Kurt will help Finn with his Spanish conjugations or counsel him on understanding Rachel's moods, and when Kurt's not so miserable and Finn's brave enough to test his luck, they'll sometimes sing a little. Finn likes it when he sings with Kurt. It makes Kurt smile—sadly, but still—and that makes the boil in his stomach die away, if only a little bit.
Finn knows himself well enough to be sure that he's straight as a ruler, and he likes to think he knows Kurt well enough to be sure that he hasn't had a crush on Finn since he called him a fag.
Finn's never been a people pleaser. He's painfully aware of how self-absorbed he is, oh so much, and living with Kurt is slowly starting to make him loathe himself for it. He's stupid in the classroom and stupider in his relationships, but somehow he gets all the solos and his pick of the girls at McKinley, and he gets to be Mr. Schue's favorite, and he doesn't understand, he really doesn't.
He hurts people. He hurt Kurt, and they're cool now, but he hurt him, and that doesn't just go away.
Finn looks at Kurt and feels guilty, overwhelmingly guilty.
One night, he gets back to his room from the bathroom, and Kurt is sitting at Finn's desk, in tears.
At a loss for whether to comfort Kurt or give him space, Finn says, "Hey, man, you okay?" And Kurt lifts his head and looks at Finn, his face blotchy, lips red and quavering, and he tries to say he's fine, but Finn's not dumb enough to believe him. He is, however, dumb enough to let his guilt guilt guilt get the better of his judgment, and he crosses the room and stands next to the chair Kurt's in, just hovering there for a moment, unsure whether to ask what's wrong or, like, touch him or something.
Swallowing a sob, Kurt chokes out choppily, "It's Friday. You and Carole were supposed to come over for Friday night dinner, but I didn't want to see you, and I told my dad I'd rather skip it for The Sound of Music singalong. The last thing he said to me before his heart attack was that he was disappointed in me, and now Dad's in the hospital and the musical's supposed to start in half an hour and I can't even..."
Like in glee club last week, he tries to put a hand on Kurt's shoulder, but again, Kurt flinches out of his reach. "Dammit, Finn, don't touch me!"
"Sorry," says Finn awkwardly. "I just don't know how else to help you, dude."
"Well, you can't," Kurt spits out, angrily swiping away tears with the back of his hand. "Do you think it's easy for me to see you every day and know we could end up stepbrothers and..."
Taken aback, Finn says, "I thought we were cool," even though he'd had doubts of his own.
"We're not cool, Finn—and nothing you do to make it up to me is going to make it cool. Every little nice gesture you make towards me just makes it that much harder for me to pretend like I just think of you as a friend, and somehow I'm the bad guy and some kind of stalker because of stupid hormones, and you keep coming around, and my dad is in a coma, we shouldn't even be having this conversation!" Kurt's voices rises to hysterical tones, and Finn just stands there, not touching him, just staring.
He thought Kurt was over him, and he feels so guilty, and—
"It's okay," says Finn, even though it isn't, and before he knows what he's doing, he's got one hand on Kurt's cheek and the other around his shoulders, and he's pulling Kurt against his chest in what he hopes is a comforting hug.
At first, Kurt protests and swats at him, but Finn just keeps mumbling about how it'll be all right, and then Kurt gives up and gives in, clutches at Finn's shirt and cries into his stomach. "It isn't fair," he croaks.
"I know."
"This is so embarrassing."
"I know."
He keeps it to himself, but he doesn't think there's any reason why Kurt should be embarrassed. Out of everybody Finn knows, Kurt is the one who deserves to have a breakdown. Maybe it's irrational, but he feels like he deserves to take half of the blame for it.
Within a couple of minutes, Kurt stops shaking, and Finn can't hear any more muffled sobs. When he thinks it's safe, he crouches down to just below Kurt's level, gently clapping him on the shoulder. "You gonna be okay?" he asks.
He's expecting Kurt to make some snide comment to save face, laugh it off, leave, smile weakly, something. Kurt doesn't react at first, though, just lets go of Finn's shirt and looks at him, and Finn looks back, waiting, starting to worry when Kurt's lip starts wobbling again—and then, catching him completely off guard, Kurt kisses him.
It's salty, close-lipped but wet with Kurt's lingering tears. If this had happened a week ago, Finn would have shoved him away, made a huge deal out of it. If Finn were in his right mind, he'd have pulled back instantly, cut Kurt some slack but explained that it wouldn't be right to lead him on when he was so vulnerable.
Maybe it's crazy, but Finn's been feeling awfully guilty, and everything he does only seems to make things worse with Kurt, and there's a self-important voice in the back of his mind telling him that pushing away now would break Kurt, and he just doesn't have it in him to risk that, not when Kurt's family is falling apart, not when Finn's been so much of an ass to him before.
He can't say he's enjoying it, but he kisses Kurt back. Not much, not enthusiastically—but he moves his lips softly, following Kurt's hesitant lead, and he lets Kurt lean in and cup his cheeks in his hands without complaint. Kurt's shy and modest and doesn't take it much farther than that, for which Finn is grateful, and when Kurt finally pulls away, to Finn's concern, he looks completely horrified.
"I don't—I shouldn't—"
"It's okay," says Finn. He doesn't think he has it in him to kiss Kurt on the mouth again, but he swallows his pride and presses his lips quickly to Kurt's forehead and back, if only out of desperation to calm him down. "It's okay, Kurt."
"Can we please never talk about this again?" Kurt mutters finally, after a pause.
"You got it."
They've got a long way to go, he and Kurt, but if they can get through a heart attack and a misguided kiss without falling apart, he'll take that as a good sign. Kurt falls silent again, and Finn doesn't know what the hell to say next, so he checks the time. "Hey, you've still got twenty minutes before your singalong thing starts," he observes. "Do you still wanna go?"
"My father's in the—"
"I know," Finn interrupts. "You shouldn't feel bad for getting away from the hospital for a little while, Kurt. C'mon, I'll go with you."
Kurt raises his eyebrow, starting to look more like his old self, to Finn's relief. "You want to watch The Sound of Music with me."
"Not really, but I don't want you to be sad anymore."
After studying him in disbelief for a moment, Kurt assents, "Fine, but we're taking my car. You're going to make me late if you think you're driving."
By the time they're in the driveway, Finn has Kurt laughing a little for the first time all week, and he thinks that maybe they're not utterly screwed after all.