Much love to those who reviewed the first chapter! As promised, here is the second installment. It actually takes place around present-day, and NOT in NYC. But it's a necessary and entertaining chapter, I promise.

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters or other Glee concepts. Expounding upon them is fun, though.

Finn Hudson was hungry.

That in and of itself wasn't anything new, especially after pre-season basketball practice, but today he was extra famished for some unknown reason.

He arrived home to an empty house, with Kurt away at Dalton and his mom and Burt still at work for another few hours. Luckily, there was some kind of casserole on the cooling rack that his mom must have made that morning. It looked like it was made of vegetables, which weren't usually his first choice for after-school snacks. Out if curiosity, he picked at a corner, tasted a bite, and discovered that it was actually delicious. And his mom was always telling him that he should eat more vegetables, so she'd probably be really happy when she found out that he tried it and liked it.

Portioning around one-fourth of the casserole onto a plate, Finn retreated to the living room for some quality time with the big-screen TV - one of the many perks of having a stepdad around. He plopped onto the leather couch, sitting up against the arm so he could eat without choking (he'd had a bad experience, learning the hard way that laying down and snacking don't really go well together) and started flipping channels. He stopped on the Travel Channel and settled in for a 6-episode block of Man vs. Food. Watching the host tackle all of those impressive food challenges only made Finn hungrier, and he went back for several more helpings of the green bean and spinach (at least, he thought he recognized those vegetables) concoction. He left a little bit over, just because he'd feel douchey eating the entire thing.

Once the last Man vs. Food was over, he turned off the TV and reached for his U.S. History textbook to at least make an attempt at the next day's reading assignment.

...

"Finn? Honey?" The front door opened, waking Finn from his impromptu nap. He glanced at the clock, then down at his book. Evidently he'd read exactly 2 pages and fallen asleep for an hour.

"Hi Mom!" he called out, sitting up and smoothing out his clothes so that it looked like he was studying.

Carole hung her coat in the front closet and made her way into the living room. "You have a good day, sweetie?" she asked, smoothing her hair as she entered the living room.

"It was okay," he shrugged while his mother kissed the top of his head. He was finally starting to feel normal again after Rachel's betrayal, but he didn't want to talk to his mom about that again.

"Burt should be home soon, I'm going to start dinner." She turned and went into the kitchen.

Finn was already sorta hungry again, so dinner sounded awesome.

"Finn..."

Ugh, his mother saying his name that way was definitely NOT sweet. "Yeah, Mom?" he answered cautiously. Was she mad about his dirty plate in the sink? She'd been talking a lot lately about him taking more responsibility around the house, like doing dishes and stuff. He planned to wash it, later. Besides, he thought as he heaved himself off the couch and joined her in the kitchen, he usually just left his dishes wherever - getting it to the sink was an accomplishment!

"What happened to the casserole?" Carole stared down at the nearly empty tray.

"Uh, I was really really hungry when I got home..."

"So you ate the whole thing? That was supposed to be a side dish for tomorrow's Friday Night Dinner. Kurt is coming home for the long weekend. He asked me to make that."

"Long weekend?" Right! Monday was MLK Jr. Day! Score! Unfortunately his mother's frustration prevented any happy expression from spreading across his face. "You could've left a note saying not to eat it," he pointed out, then smiled weakly. "Aren't you at least a little glad that I ate vegetables?"

Just then the front door opened yet again. "Carole! Finn!" Burt entered the house and, as his stepson tended to do, made a beeline for the kitchen. "Hey you two," he said when he found them, pulling Carole in for a chaste kiss before he noticed Finn's defeated expression. "Something wrong buddy?"

Finn glanced at the remnants of the veggie-laden side dish.

"Ohhh," Burt chuckled, then shrugged. "So make another one."

A look of disdain engulfed Carole's entire face. "Right, because I have nothing better to do. I made it in advance for a reason! I can't believe you'd just assume-"

"Not you, dear," he cut her off. "Finn."

"You mean, like, cook?" the teenager asked.

"Yes, that tends to be how food gets to the table. What did you think, that it just magically appears out of nowhere?" Carole threw her arms up as though she was sprinkling fairy dust.

Finn looked at the floor. He really hadn't thought about it before.

Carole contemplated the nearly-empty casserole dish yet again, taking a deep breath. "Honey I know I'm your mother and it's my job to feed you, but at this rate it could be a full-time occupation! It is about time you learned to make something on your own besides grilled cheese."

Finn was about to protest, but he caught Burt's wary eye and thought better of it. "Okay, Mom."

He managed a smile despite being terrified.

...

His mother said that she ordinarily would use frozen vegetables in a dish like this, but because Kurt was coming home and asked her to make it she wanted to do it right. A few months earlier Finn might've been offended by his mom going out of her way for Kurt, but he understood that they had a special relationship just like he had with Burt. Plus, he honestly missed not having Kurt around. He'd transferred to Dalton so abruptly after the wedding, but they really bonded over Christmas break and Kurt was oddly receptive to his heartbroken ramblings. (At first, anyway. After a while Finn could tell he was bored and only continued listening to be polite.)

So on Friday Finn went to the grocery store after school. He had been with Rachel a few times before one cooking project or another, but he never really paid attention since she always knew exactly what she needed and where everything was. He smiled at the memory of those happier times as he walked through the produce aisle.

Asking her for help would've been so easy. Too easy. They were able to be around each other okay - a "peaceful coexistence," she had called it, whatever that meant. It felt forced and strange, and Finn couldn't shake the nagging feeling that they weren't REALLY over.

All he knew was that he wasn't ready to forgive her yet. He was also tired of defining himself by whatever girl he was with or wanted to be with or slept with out of spite. He needed to just be a dude on his own for a while. As much as that scared him and felt sort of lonely, it also felt... was that word about feeling like you have the power to do things?

He picked up a kiwi, having never seen a whole one before, marveling at its strange fuzzy skin while he tried to remember the word.

Empowering! Right.

It was empowering to have decided that he was going to do things on his own. Like shop for vegetables and cook them. Finn made it halfway down the aisle before he finally found the green beans. Luckily the spinach was nearby. He was astounded by how many different types of leafy green foods there were! Like kale. What the hell is kale? To Finn it looked the same as spinach. Not different enough to have a separate name, anyway.

After 20 minutes he'd gathered all the necessary ingredients and paid for them. He drove home and brought the few grocery bags into the house along with his school bag. His mom told him that the casserole would take a half-hour to prepare (it was supposed to be 15 minutes but she gave him more time since he's a rookie) and needed an hour to bake, but that he had to also allow for an extra half-hour or so for it to cool down. It was only 4 and dinner wasn't until 7, so he put in a solid hour of Call of Duty before starting up.

He was scared. What if he messed it up and Kurt didn't like it? What if he did something wrong and burned the house down? On lots of TV shows kids and/or men cooking always led to blackened cupcakes and smoke alarms and whatever else.

But who said he couldn't be good at this? Finn thought as he unfolded the printout of the recipe and laid all of the ingredients out on the counter. No one expected him to sing and dance in front of hundreds of people but he'd done that several times. And it really made sense that Finn be able to cook, considering how much he loved food. Also, this thing for tonight didn't have to be perfect, just edible.

Studying the recipe, he carried out each of the preparation steps as instructed (including the substitution of low-far cheddar for real cheese, since Burt needed to watch his cholesterol). He was a little scared he might hurt himself with the big knife because he could be clumsy at times. But he found it relatively easy to chop the vegetables. There was also something oddly soothing about moving through each task in the order listed. The recipe was like a game-plan that Finn needed to execute, and it was a much more straightforward process than he expected. It helped that he had seen a finished product the day before and knew how the thing was supposed to turn out.

He was just about to start layering the ingredients in the baking dish when there was a loud beeping noise that startled Finn so greatly he practically jumped back from the counter. What the hell was that? he wondered, fearful that the whole kitchen was about to blow up. He frantically dialed his mother's cell phone number but it went straight to voicemail. Crap.

After a moment of cautious hesitation he was convinced that the beep was a one-time event, so he placed the ingredients into the casserole dish and then carefully opened the oven, which had been preheating.

Of course! The oven had been preheating, but the little screen now read 375°, the temperature he'd entered before he began the preparations. So the beep must have been the signal that it was ready. Yeah! Finn silently congratulated himself for drawing that conclusion on his own.

He put the dish inside and closed the door, then set the timer on his phone for an hour later and went back to his video game. Around 45 minutes later he heard the front door open.

"Something smells good," Carole said cheerfully, poking her head into his room. He paused the game and shrugged as she walked over to where he sat on his father's old recliner. When she got there she kissed the top of his head as usual. "How much more baking time does it need?"

Finn checked his phone. "Twelve minutes."

"All right. I'll be in the kitchen making the rest of dinner so I'll take it out."

"Thanks, Mom," he replied, turning back to his game, which he played a little while longer.

But he didn't really get all that into it. Part of that had to do with curiosity as to how his casserole had turned out. Mostly, though, he felt like he owed his mom some support. She'd always done so much for him – cooking lots of his favorite foods, buying him clothes, driving him to all of his practices and games, etc. Finn had always pitched in when he was asked, mainly when someone needed to lift heavy stuff or reach a high shelf. But it was high time Finn made a real effort to help his mom out without being specifically asked.

So he climbed the stairs and joined her in the kitchen. Today's casserole was on the cooling rack just as yesterday's had been. He watched from the doorway as Carole carefully eased a bag of rice into a pot of boiling water on the stove.

That didn't look so hard, he thought. "Hey, Mom."

"Finn! I didn't expect to see you 'til dinnertime. Aren't there zombies to kill or something?" she chided, earning an eye-roll in response to her teasing. "You have any plans for the weekend?"

"Not really. Figure I'll see what Kurt has going on and try to hang with him for at least a little bit."

"That sounds nice," she commented as she sprayed a baking pan, then opened the refrigerator and took out what looked like a bowl of raw chicken parts. "Your vegetables seem to have cooked up nicely," she added, motioning to the cooling rack. "And it wasn't so hard to make, was it?"

"Nah, it was actually kinda... fun. Is that chicken?" Finn asked excitedly. Most kids complained that their parents only cooked chicken, but Finn loved chicken. He had no idea what his mom did to make it taste so good, but now he was curious.

"Yes it is," Carole confirmed, taking the parts out of the bowl and arranging them on the pan. Then she showed him how to crush garlic and mix it with other spices and some olive oil.

"Once it's all mixed, you use this brush to spread it onto the chicken pieces," she explained while demonstrating on one of the drumsticks (Finn's favorite piece, obviously). "You can do that, right?" She handed him the brush.

"Sure!" Finn applied the mixture to the rest of the chicken while his mother began chopping lettuce for a salad. He felt a little silly at his enthusiasm for something that was supposed to be a chore, but it was really a win-win. He got to make his mom happy and speed up the dinner preparations.

"What now?" he asked when he was finished.

"Now, we bake for 20 minutes at 300°." Almost as if on cue, the same loud beep from the day before resonated through the kitchen, causing both mother and son to flinch slightly, before Carole laughed. "I'm still not totally used to that. In the old house the oven was so ancient that it didn't beep at all, you just had to guess that it had reached the right temperature" she recounted while Finn placed the baking tray on the middle rack. He smiled at the mention of their old house, but it was sort of a sad smile.

When he closed the oven, Carole reached up to kiss his cheek. "I'm proud of you, Finn. For the way you're dealing with all the changes in your life." She discreetly wiped moisture from the corner of your eye before hitting him in the side with a dish towel. "Now go pretend to kill terrorists, or something. I'll make Burt set the table since you cooked."

"Thanks, Mom."

...

"Finn made the casserole?" Kurt eyed his step-brother in disbelief as they passed the serving plates around the dinner table, helping themselves to the wares.

"Yep," Finn said simply. He took a bite and chewed cautiously. To him it tasted the same as his mom's from the day before, which was a pretty good sign. But he anxiously awaited some positive reviews that would confirm success.

"This is pretty good, kid," Burt commented, still swallowing his last bite.

Carole reached across the table to pat Finn's hand and give it a quick squeeze as she beamed proudly. "Finn also helped me make the chicken."

"Ahh, awesome As soon as spring comes, you and me, grilling, every Sunday. How's that sound?"

That could be really fun, Finn thought. "Sounds good," he replied, grinning brightly until he met Kurt's weak smile. "Oh, uh, when you're home for the summer you'll join in too, right man?"

Kurt only scoffed. "No thanks. I've always found the ritualistic outdoor preparation of raw meat to be an utterly grotesque ordeal," he explained with a healthy dose of contempt, before his tone softened. "You two have fun with your grilling - but no red meat!"

"Yeah, yeah. Maybe you can look online for a way to make chicken taste like steak without killing me," Burt joked.

The others laughed, and they moved onto talking about the boys' respective school experiences since the last time the whole family ate together. Finn watched warily out of the corner of his eye when Kurt finally took a bite of the casserole. He smiled slightly and kept eating, and Finn felt a surge of pride regarding his newfound culinary skills.

It was the happiest he'd been in weeks, he realized later on. Still, he couldn't ignore the bit of hollowness he felt from not being able to share the experience with Rachel. For all of her big words and high-minded talk about the future, she always joined wholeheartedly in his excitement over small stuff. He'd always thought it was because she loved him and seeing him happy made her happy.

But if that had really been the case, she wouldn't have done the one thing that she knew would make him super upset.

Finn had really been trying to get away from thinking about her, and what she did to him. The past few days he seemed to have gotten to the point of being able to think about her without feeling total rage, so that was something. And the hollow feeling from tonight, that had to be something too.

Since he wasn't sure what the feelings meant, so he was definitely not ready to do anything about them yet. But he filed it away in the back of his mind for whenever that time came.

Sooo, there you have it: Finn Hudson learning how to cook. Originally this chapter was going to cover a longer time-period and more successful Finn-cooking experiences, but it got kind of long and it seemed like a good place to end, so be on the lookout for those further successes in a subsequent chapter.

Reviews are love. :-)