Kurt toddled into Finn's room, a cup of warm milk in one hand and his brother's medication in the other.
Finn gave him a dopey smile. "You came back!"
Kurt blinked. "Of course I did, Finn Hudson. I wouldn't deny you pain relief." He tilted his head. "Well, not for very long."
"I was out of line before," Finn said softly. "Whatever's going on with you, Sam, and Santana isn't my business."
Kurt halted and peered curiously at him. "What brought about this change of thought?"
Finn sighed. "You're not happy. I like when you're happy. You're only happy when you're with them."
Kurt arched an eyebrow and wondered when Finn had become so observant. It was slightly unsettling. Even more so because his brother was correct: his fleeting moments of happiness were, as of late, with Sam and Santana. He supposed he should've realized that sooner. Huh.
"It's time for your pill," Kurt said gently.
Finn stared up at him and opened his mouth.
Kurt snorted. "What am I, your priest? This isn't Last Rites." He rolled his eyes and dropped the pill into Finn's mouth before passing him the cup of milk.
Finn gulped the milk down, swallowing his pill in the process, and sighed with satisfaction. "It's really good. I never liked warm milk before. Or if I did, I never knew it." His eyes grew hazy. "There was lots of stuff I didn't know I liked until you became my brother." He gave an exaggerated blink and looked up at Kurt. "I like you. I don't think I ever told you that before. If I didn't, I should have. I'm really glad you're my brother, Kurt."
"I'm glad we're brothers too, Finn," Kurt whispered.
Finn's eyes became moist. "I'm sorry I'm not gay."
Kurt's mouth fell open. "What?"
"I'm sorry I'm not gay," Finn repeated. "Because sometimes I wonder how things would be if I were. How we would be. Do you think we'd be together, that we'd be happy?"
Kurt sat down gingerly on the edge of Finn's bed. "I honestly don't know. I don't think gay relationships are any easier than straight ones. We don't have very much in common and we argue quite a bit."
"You would never cheat on me," Finn pouted.
"That's true," Kurt agreed. "Of course, Sam would never have cheated on Quinn," he scolded.
Finn sighed. "I know. I really was a dick to him. He didn't deserve that."
"No, he didn't," Kurt said, "but it takes two. Quinn made a decision to cheat on Sam. Am I angry at you for hurting Sam? Yes. But I'm angrier at her because she did to Sam what she once did to you?"
Finn pulled a face. "You're worried. You're worried about me."
Kurt threw up his hands. "Of course I am, Finn! She cheated on you last year with your best friend. This year, she cheated on Sam with his best friend, who just so happens to be you. I'm afraid she'll cheat on you again. There certainly is a pattern at play here. And if the worst happens, how will you feel then?"
Finn was silent for a long moment, thinking about his answer. "I'll feel that I got what I deserved," he finally said. "I know you don't want to believe it, but she's not the same person she was last year. I know she acts like it, but she's not. Drizzle changed everything for her."
Kurt stubbornly averted his gaze, though he knew his brother was being truthful.
Finn sighed. "You shouldn't be angrier at Quinn than at me, Kurty. You were there last year. You know that even while I was still with Quinn and thought Drizzle was my baby, I chased after Rachel. I wasn't a good boyfriend to her, Kurt. We were together because we thought we should be. Now it's because we want to be, even though we went about it in entirely the wrong way." He grabbed Kurt's hand. "Quinn hurt me, sure, but I hurt her too. And this time, both of us hurt Sam."
"But Quinn's not my brother," Kurt said mulishly, crossing his arms defensively over his chest, "you are. It's not my job to protect her."
"But she was your friend, Kurt," Finn softly countered. "You liked her a lot, I know you did. And if someone had done to her what she and I did to Sam, you'd be planning their funeral right now."
Kurt grunted but didn't deny the accusation.
"Kurty," Finn said gently, "if Quinn and I had done this to anyone but Sam, would you be this upset?"
Kurt looked down at the floor.
"You don't need to protect me, Kurt," Finn continued. "I mean, I'm totally psyched that you want to, and I wish I had done a better job of protecting you. Hell, I wish I had done anything to protect you. But you can't protect me from my own bad decisions. You give me good advice all the time and we both know I never follow it. Not because I don't want to, but because I don't think before I do stuff. Besides, I don't regret being with Quinn. I hate that we went about it the way we did, and I really hate that we hurt Sam, but I don't regret being with her."
Kurt gave him the side-eye. "Does being injured somehow make you smarter? Because I'll remember that the next time you're acting like a dick."
Finn's eyes flared with indignation and then widened with shock. "You said a bad word!"
Kurt shrugged. "It's a consequence of hanging out with Santana."
Finn nodded. "I get that."
"Thanks, Finn," Kurt whispered.
Finn's brow furrowed. "For what?"
"For being my brother. I always wanted a brother when I was growing up, but I never thought I'd get one." He was quiet for a long moment. "If Dad was going to marry anyone, I'm glad it was Carole. If anyone was going to be my brother, I'm very glad I got you."
"I love you, Kurty," Finn sniffled.
"I love you too, Finny."
Finn surged forward, used his good arm to grab Kurt around the waist, pulled his brother against his side and laid them back down on the bed, nuzzling Kurt's neck.
"This is quite gay," Kurt remarked after several moments of contented silence.
"For once, I really don't care."
"Sing me a song, Kurty," Finn mumbled.
"What would you like to hear?" Kurt asked.
Finn shrugged diffidently. "Something sad."
Kurt shifted until he was facing Finn. "Why something sad?"
Another shrug. "I feel sad, so I want to hear a sad song."
"Won't that just make you more sad?"
"I don't think so," Finn said slowly. "Sometimes when you're sad, a sad song makes you feel better."
Kurt nodded. "It does at that."
"But no show tunes."
Kurt rolled his eyes. "I do know more songs than just show tunes, you know."
"Then why do you always sing show tunes?"
"Because that's what's expected of me," Kurt promptly answered. "Think about New Directions, Finn. What types of songs do we sing?"
Finn felt kind of giddy that Kurt still considered himself part of New Directions. "Um, classic rock and pop, mostly. And show tunes."
Kurt nodded. "My voice isn't well suited for classic rock."
"That's not true," Finn immediately denied. "You were awesome when we did Livin' on a Prayer."
Kurt blushed lightly. "Because I was part of an ensemble. I could never carry a song like that on my own."
Finn sincerely doubted that but said nothing. "You like pop music, though."
"Some of it," Kurt agreed, "but Schue was never interested in the type of pop music I prefer."
"You did Lady Gaga and Madonna," Finn protested.
Kurt arched a brow. "And were either of those featured in competition? Did I ever sing lead on a song in any competition?"
Finn blinked. "Oh."
"I focused on show tunes because, other than Rachel, I'm most well-versed in the genre," Kurt said. "There were more solo opportunities for me, though that rarely happened."
Finn sighed and drew Kurt closer to him. "Schue really wasn't fair to you."
"No, he wasn't," Kurt easily agreed, "but I guess he knows what he's doing. Although he really needs to lay off Journey."
"Yeah. Is it any better for you in the Warblers?"
"Not so much," Kurt softly admitted. 'They're really only interested in featuring Blaine and there's no room for anyone or anything that's unique."
Finn winced. "That sucks."
"Sometimes. Well, often. But I get by."
Finn struggled for something to say to make his brother feel better. "You sing better than Rachel."
"I know."
Finn snickered. A moment later he realized that, though he had been trying to cheer Kurt up, his statement was nevertheless true. Kurt was a better singer, at least in his opinion. If he was stranded on a desert island and had to choose between listening only to Kurt or Rachel sing, he'd totally choose Kurt. He poked his brother between the ribs.
"You're not singing."
Kurt shook his head. "You're impossible."
Finn beamed. "I know. Start singing."
Kurt sighed but complied, humming the opening measures. Finn snuggled up against him.
"Talking to myself and feeling old," Kurt began. "Sometimes I'd like to quit, nothing ever seems to fit. Hanging around, nothing to do but frown. Rainy days and Mondays always get me down."
Finn blinked owlishly. Kurt was using that voice. The one he had employed during his Cheerios duet with Mercedes, that warm, rich register which had shocked everyone who had believed they had known all Kurt's voice could do.
The song was from the Carpenters, he realized. His mom loved them and their records had been a constant of his childhood. He had always been entranced by Karen's voice, though he would never have admitted to it, and now suspected he was so beguiled by Kurt's because it recalled hers. There was a tonal quality to both voices, such a crystalline purity, it demanded one to halt immediately whatever they were doing and pay due attention. When his mother used to work afternoon shifts, he would come home after school, plug his headphones into the stereo, close his eyes and turn up the volume to revel in Karen's sublime alto voice.
It had touched him, the way that now only Kurt's voice could. Even when they sang cheerful songs there was always just a touch of deep melancholy, of a desperate yearning, that squeezed at his heart and left him slightly breathless. He already felt tears pricking at his eyes and settled in for a good cry. He didn't have anything in particular to cry over; he just knew he needed to cry.
"What I've got they used to call the blues. Nothing is really wrong," Kurt's resonant voice contained just a hint of a chuckle in its delivery, "feeling like I don't belong." He took a longer breath than necessary. "Walking around, some kind of lonely clown. Rainy days and Mondays always get me down."
Finn closed his eyes and felt the tears spill over as he burrowed even further into Kurt's space. He had promised himself he would never again presume to understand what it meant to be Kurt, of the pain and suffering he endured because of his refusal to hide who he was, but he understood isolation. He knew what it was to have everyone look at him and judge him, though they really knew nothing about him. He understood the temerity it took to paste a happy smile on your face when there was nothing behind it, of the cost of putting on a front to appease your loved ones or to fool yourself into believing that things weren't as bad as you knew them to be.
He didn't know what it was to be gay, but he knew what it was to hurt. And, for the first time, he felt it was okay to share his hurt with someone else.
A gentle smile appeared on Kurt's face. "Funny, but it seems I always wind up here with you. Nice to know somebody loves me." He reached down and pulled Finn's hand from his waist and interlaced their fingers, pressing their palms tightly against each other. "Funny, but it seems that it's the only thing to do, run and find the one who loves me."
"The one who loves me," Finn harmonized as Kurt held the last note of the stanza for all it was worth.
He loved Kurt so much that it surprised him. Ever since last year he knew he had feelings for Kurt, not romantic ones, but there was always something between them just waiting to be recognized. He wasn't sure when or why it had happened, but Kurt had become one of the most important people in his life, and Finn knew it was a permanent thing. It could never be changed and he would never want it to be.
But the emotion in Kurt's voice now, the depth and breadth of feeling he obviously had for him, of how much Kurt truly loved him, made the tears flow faster.
Kurt gave a startled blink, not only because Finn knew the song, but at how their voices blended. They had never really sung together before, just the two of them, and certainly not while Kurt was using his chest voice. But it was perfect.
In that moment, they were perfect together.
And Kurt didn't feel sad or angry or resentful. He didn't mourn missed opportunities or regret how turbulent their relationship had once been. A year ago, his greatest wish would have been for Finn to learn forward and steal a kiss, but now…now there was a peaceful acceptance and a mutual acknowledgment of the rightness of their relationship. Everything they had been through together, the bad and the good, had led them to this.
He and Finn would never be lovers and that was just fine; now they were brothers, and that was better.
And suddenly everything changed. It was no longer about a broken wrist or cheating significant others. It wasn't about Sam or Rachel or Beth. It wasn't about his dead mother or Finn's dead father. It wasn't about what was once said forever ago in a basement or things that hadn't been said or done before he transferred to Dalton.
It was about now and everything they meant to each other. Kurt knew he would gladly die for Finn, and for the first time he believed that Finn would do the same for him.
"What I feel has come and gone before," Kurt sang, smiling. "No need to talk it out," he continued, shaking his head, "we know what it's all about."
Finn nodded. They knew. They knew that it was all about them, and not for selfish reasons. They had never said the words aloud – there were so many things they had left unsaid, both good and bad – but now they realized that perhaps things had remained unsaid because they simply lacked the vocabulary to express them. They often told each other that they loved the other, and while they had meant it, the emotion behind the words, the emotion the words themselves engendered, had, for whatever reason, always been dampened. Perhaps it had been fear, fear of loss or rejection or transience, but that had all evaporated.
Kurt released Finn's hand and gently rose to his feet, circling around the bed and pulling the sheets and comforter over Finn's supine form.
"Hanging around…"
"Hanging around," Finn quietly repeated, his voice creaking at the end with a yawn.
"Nothing to do but frown," Kurt sang, bending over and placing a soft kiss on Finn's temple. "Rainy days and Mondays…" He placed Kurt Bear in the crook of Finn's neck.
"…always get…," they harmonized.
"Me down." Kurt held the final note for quite some time, just grazing the bottom limit of his register, yet delivering some remarkable vocal gymnastics. He could never resist the opportunity to show what he could do.
Both of them had missed their parents standing in the doorway, Carole mouthing the lyrics as tears slipped down Burt's face. They disappeared down the stairs before they could be discovered.
Once certain Finn was asleep, Kurt withdrew a Sharpie from his pocket and gave Finn a unibrow.
It was just what brothers did.
Kurt crossed the hall into his room and sat down at his desk. He hesitated a moment before reaching for his phone and dialing a number he had told himself to forget, waiting for the call to be answered.
"Hello?"
"Hi Quinn."
A sharp gasp. "Kurt?"
End Notes: I'm having such fun with this story, I've decided to extend it from a three-shot to five chapters. By popular demand, the next chapter will feature some Kurt/Sam/Santana. The final chapter will be Kurt's (temporary) return to McKinley. Thanks so much for reading!
The song used in this chapter is Rainy Days and Mondays, popularized by The Carpenters. It can be found on YouTube or any of their myriad greatest hits compilations. I actually think that Chris Colfer would do amazingly well with some of their songs, so expect them to pop up in my other stories.
Special thanks to DJ-DizzyD, ShevyLikeTheCar, RoxasIsReal13, Number1KurtHummelFan, LadyLexius, RayvnAshes2, CrayonsPink, Taylor Hayes, and Shivera - not only for their support for this story, but for all of my stories. Your reviews and messages of encouragement have meant so very much. I'm so thankful to have you as readers. 3
