"We're at our worst when it's from our lips…
From our lips, we caused a rift,
And the world is falling in.
From babble to ball room brawls,
Our words have formed a death sentence.
And I wish that we had never talked!
Our hips said it all…"

Finn remembers when their arrangement started to unravel. Kurt was still at Dalton, home from school on the weekends. It had been a while since the pair had been able to have any of their clandestine moments. On this particular weekend, they were both attending the usual Friday night family dinner when the name Blaine Anderson first surfaced. Blaine was another boy at Kurt's new school. Blaine understood some of what Kurt had gone through with Karofsky because he had experienced the same sort of harassment before finding his own measure of safety at Dalton. Blaine was one of the Warblers, the boarding school's glee club. Blaine was apparently their best singer, considering the number of solos he was given. Blaine was handsome, too, and charming, and surprisingly good at higher-level mathematics. Every time Kurt had doubts about fitting in, it was just a matter of talking to Blaine to remind him that it takes time to adjust to a new place.

Carole thought it was adorable and reassuring that Kurt had found a friend at his new school so quickly, especially one he could so closely confide in. Burt, ever protective of his only child, made concerned faces and asked questions in a tone that suggested he would be investing in a polygraph the minute he could find one on eBay.

For the most part, Finn sat silent. He smiled and nodded in agreement with his mother's words and chuckled at Burt's protectiveness, but he offered nothing of actual value to the conversation. He was too busy trying to figure out what the strange feeling in the pit of his gut was.

When he met Kurt's new friend for the first time at the Lima Bean, it was by chance. Finn was there with Rachel discussing a list of possible duets. It was Rachel who spotted the pair at the counter placing their order and it was Rachel (who was somehow blissfully unaware of how quickly Finn turned his head) who invited them over. Both boys were in their Dalton blues, standing so close together that Finn wondered if they were arm in arm. He surprised himself by being relieved when he realized they were not. The four of them sat together, sipping their drinks and catching up—which is to say that Kurt and Rachel caught up with Blaine occasionally answering a question while Finn just watched the scene unfold. To be honest, he spent most of the time getting a good look at this Blaine guy.

Handsome? Sure. Maybe in a general sense. He had the sort of features sought after in Hollywood.

Charming? Blaine seemed to have an answer for everything, offering it with such a casual air that Finn wondered how many times a day the kid practiced speaking to others in front of a mirror. It seemed to Finn that Rachel giggled and blushed any time the teenager paid her a compliment, and Blaine certainly had Kurt's complete attention…

The nameless feeling that struck him during the family dinner crept back into the pit of his stomach—only this time, the feeling spread through him like winter frost through pipes. By the time they parted ways, with Kurt sending a message to his father through Finn that he was staying at Dalton over the weekend due to a study group, the feeling had a chokehold on his thoughts. He found himself wondering if a study group was really the reason Kurt was spending the weekend at school—and then he found himself wondering why it even bothered him so much.

The concept of jealousy seemed much too ridiculous at the time. What was there to actually be jealous about? They weren't dating. There was no real romantic emotion to speak of between them! It was just…

It was the principle of the thing. That's what it was. It was about what was ethical with regards to common sense.

Occasionally screwing your stepbrother in secret wasn't exactly the smartest idea, sure, but it wasn't exactly unethical.

Occasionally screwing him while possibly pursuing someone else, on the other hand…

But it wasn't like Finn had evidence that Kurt was attracted to Blaine, and when Kurt came home the following weekend, he seemed more than content to give the taller boy the kind of kiss that shot heat through his entire body.

"Leave your door unlocked?"

By now the phrase was practically a command veiled as a question, spoken in such dulcet tones and with such promise of pleasurable things that Finn could only mumble agreement. Sitting through dinner that night was difficult. If either of the adults at the table noticed the way he could barely sit still or focus on the meal in front of him, they were at least polite enough not to ask why. Meanwhile, there across the table sat Kurt, completely calm and collected. He barely even looked at Finn the entire time, spending most of dinner catching up with his dad.

And then Carole asked about Blaine.

Finn's memory frays when he tries to remember Kurt's response to Carole's innocent inquiry. In its place there is only the memory of feeling what he knows now to be an intense mix of envy and annoyance. Who cared? It wasn't important to know how Blaine was. He wasn't important.

He remembers doing his best to remind Kurt who it was that knew how to get him off that night. He also remembers the sound of Kurt's tired laughter, floating up from where he lay flat on his back atop Finn's bed without a stitch of clothing on. Kurt's hips were spotted red from the needy press of the other boy's fingers. It was part of the reason, actually, that Kurt was laughing.

"Did you miss me that much?"

For some reason, the only thing Finn could think to say at the time was, "You weren't here last weekend."

"I was busy."

It was so matter-of-fact. So casual. Something about that cut through Finn's afterglow. Kurt sat up. He crossed the space between them on the bed on all fours, putting his face close enough to Finn's that they're noses nearly touched. There was nowhere else to look but into those blue eyes that seemed to read him with barely a glance. Not that Finn didn't try to place his gaze elsewhere…

"Dude, I-I'm not—" Finn drew a breath in. "What's there to be jealous about?"

"You tell me," Kurt answered coyly. "But I bet his name starts with a B."

"There's nothing—" His protest was cut off by the nip of Kurt's teeth at his neck. "Kurt—"

"Mm?"

"Where is this going?"

"Wherever you want it to."

Finn could practically feel the words leaving their mark on his skin, sealed with Kurt's kisses. Any other time, the phrase was an invitation. It was like an inside joke by then. A secret code.

"I'm serious, Kurt."

"I knew it!" The paler boy drew back, triumph in his eyes. "You are jealous of Blaine."

"I'm not—I just want to know—" Finn let out a frustrated huff. "I'm not jealous of him. You're here."

"Exactly." Kurt sounded pleased in the same way an owner is pleased when their pet follows a command. He stretched out on his side. "Do you want me to go for the night?"

That was the first time—and, so far as Finn remembers, the only time—either of them was caught leaving the other's bedroom. That was also the first and only time Kurt fell asleep in Finn's bed afterward. It never happened the other way around.

Unfortunately, the subject would come up again. Not right away. For a while, things were as they had been from the start. The barrier between who they were around others and who they were together remained intact. Steady. Secure. Kurt staying through the weekend at Dalton once in a while gradually meshed into whatever routine existed. It was less and less a big deal. In his absence, Finn found himself paying attention to all the little signs Rachel was giving off that she was finally willing to date him. He approached it cautiously, not wanting the risk of causing trouble for himself. Still, Finn could not ignore the feeling of ease that came with spending time with her. It was easy. There weren't any silly rules to follow, spoken or unspoken. There was no need to switch between who he was with her and who he was with the rest of the world.

The first time they kissed, Finn felt something different, a fluttering in his chest of the kind that was never there when he kissed Kurt. There were sparks, sure, but it wasn't just physical. There was something emotional there. Love maybe, or the thing that came before it.

Which was all well and good, of course, except for that small quirk of occasionally fucking his stepbrother.

The subject resurfaced unbidden when Kurt came home from Dalton one weekend. Finn returned from an outing with Rachel—which could hardly be considered an actual date by any standards since Mercedes and Artie were with them—to find Kurt lying on his bed, flipping through a magazine.

"You're home."

"There was nothing going on at Dalton this weekend." Kurt continued flipping through a magazine. "Dad and Carole are out at the movies. You weren't at dinner tonight."

Finn shrugged. "I was out."

"I know."

"You do?"

"Your mom told me." The magazine fell closed with barely a sound. Kurt sat up effortlessly. "How's Rachel?"

"Rachel?"

"Rachel Berry? I heard from a little bird you're seeing each other."

"Of course, we are. We're in glee club together." Finn meant it to be sarcastic but his tone was off. "It's not serious."

Kurt merely shrugged. "Am I supposed to be jealous?" He grew amused. "Would you like me to be?"

"Stop. It's not—it's just a couple dates."

"So you're not sleeping with her."

"No! I— No, Kurt. God—" Finn let out a short breath. "No. It's nothing like that."

"Then there's no problem." Kurt merely shrugged again. "Unless—"

And what cut him off was his phone ringing in his bedroom. He was gone, answering it. Finn watched him from the doorway, trying not to eavesdrop but finding it difficult when he realized Blaine was the caller.

"No, I'm at home for the weekend. Mm-hm, all weekend. I'm, uh, I'm catching up with my stepbrother Finn…" Kurt chuckled a little. "No, I—I thought that was— Wasn't that next weekend?" Over the long pause, his brow furrowed. "Are you—? That was tonight? Dammit! I'm sorry. I forgot. I'll have to make it up to you when I get back."

Something about the delivery of the line, the tone of Kurt's voice… The nameless uncomfortable feeling Finn had not felt in weeks came crawling back into his gut. What did Kurt forget? How was he going to make it up to Blaine? Finn's queries were casually brushed aside with vague answers involving extra rehearsals solely focused on making certain that Blaine never even considered sounding off-pitch or out of tune. It sounded reasonable enough to quell the discomfort moving around inside for the moment, but in the wake of the fading afterglow, Finn's thoughts drifted back to those things he wished he could ignore. He found himself thinking of Rachel. Of Blaine. Of all the waiting and sneaking around just for a little bit of pleasure and release.

The unspoken rules.

The divides.

The nameless discomfort.

"Kurt—" Finn looked up at the boy straddled above him, trying to enjoy the fingertips gracing along his skin. "Kurt. Where is this going?"

"You and that question. It's not like I come built with GPS," Kurt answered.

"No, I-I—I know. I just… Where is this going? We've been at this…a couple months now. Where do you see this going?"

"You mean us."

The phrasing threw Finn off-guard. The way he was being looked at made him nervous. There was silence like the kind that preceded the first time they had sex but something about it felt different. Finn could almost feel Kurt closing up, closing off. Even now, in thinking about it, he would swear the room felt actually little…colder.

"I don't know. Nowhere."

The next day, Kurt had some excuse about needing to return to Dalton a day early. Something about forgetting a review packet for an important exam. The hug he gave Finn on the way out felt over too quick, empty of any sort of affection. There was no attempt to sneak in a kiss. In fact, there was a strange sort of vacancy in those large blue eyes that bothered Finn even well after the sound of the Escalade's engine gave way again to the neighborhood's normal sounds.

Kurt didn't come home the weekend that followed.

The second weekend, he only stayed long enough on Friday to have dinner with his family and fetch some pots of face cream from the vast collection on his vanity table.

The weekend after that, Kurt arrived early on Saturday with a sack full of laundry, complaining about the broken washing machine and how someone stole his detergent and fabric softener.

And through all of this, his interactions with Finn were cool at best, as if he were so busy with his life at Dalton that he had no time or energy left to put towards being the way he used to be with his stepbrother—which is to say, at the very least, happy to see him. During the weekdays, the chance to talk was reduced to phone calls or text messages. Finn found himself leaving more voice messages than he used to. By the fourth week, he could repeat Kurt's voice message greeting verbatim.

"I'm Kurt Hummel and I'm not here. Leave me a message and I'll call back when I am."

How many messages did Finn leave in those weeks? All of them pretty much saying the same thing.

Call me.

Talk to me.

Pay attention to me.

Once in a while, he would get a call back or a text back, but even those lacked any sort of warmth. More often than not, it would go unanswered, and Finn would wonder just how busy Kurt was keeping himself at Dalton.

Then, seemingly out of the blue and after what felt like ages, Kurt came home for the entire weekend. But he did not arrive to that week's family dinner alone. Another boy was with him—a slightly shorter boy with slicked down black hair and the sort of handsome looks sought after in Hollywood. A boy who, as he politely introduced himself to the family, flashed the sort of smile some would call charming.

That was the first time Finn heard Kurt introduce Blaine Anderson as his boyfriend.

And that was the first time the uncomfortable feeling in Finn's gut registered as anger.