Narrow Stairs Chapter 4: Something To Sleep To, a glee fanfic

Title: Narrow Stairs, Chapter Four – Something To Sleep To.

Pairing: Kurt/Finn

Warnings: Sex, kind of. Definitely explicit.

Word Count: 2,204

Rating: R for graphic sex.

Spoilers: Theatricality.

Disclaimer: Glee does not belong to me, these characters aren't mine, they would never do these things, I mean no disrespect, blah blah blah…Death Cab For Cutie owns the phrase Narrow Stairs and Something To Sleep To Belongs to Michelle Branch.

Author's Note: Ah, finally, explicit loveliness. If you're not into gay sex (not sure why you'd be reading this if you aren't, but stranger things have happened), skip the italic part. You should be able to pick things up just fine.

I'm very excited about this for a little bit of a strange reason. I picked up in the middle of Theatricality, staring where Finn got kicked out, and I was worrying about how to deal with Finn in the Red Dress at the end of the episode. Answer ahoy!

Something To Sleep To.

The problem with the bed, it turned out, was that it smelled like Kurt. An awful lot like Kurt. Finn rolled over for what seemed like the millionth time, trying to find a way to sleep where it didn't feel like he was being suffocated. Because suffocated was definitely the word he wanted to use, along with such synonyms as drowning and smothering and strangling. He stared at the ceiling, silently cursing the thesaurus Rachel had not so subtly gotten him back when they had been dating.

There were some other words, though, that kept trying to creep into his mind. Like cuddle, maybe, complete with all sorts of other uncomfortable words; caress, embrace, snuggle, each leading off into even worse territories. Caress implied kiss, embrace implied entwine, snuggle implied spoon. Finn rolled over, burying his face into his pillow, trying to get away from those stupid words.

"Finn? Are you still awake?"

He made some sort of affirmative noise, keeping his face in his pillow on the off chance Kurt had super vision and could see how red his face was.

"Is your bed uncomfortable? I told you, you should have gotten that Tempur-Pedic."

"I don't want a stupid Tempur-Pedic," he told his pillow. "My mattress is fine. It's great. It's wonderful, amazing, brilliant, sensational, even miraculous."

Kurt stayed quiet for a moment before saying, "I guess that's your thesaurus I found hidden under the couch."

Another affirmative grunt.

"Then what's the problem?"

Living with you is driving me crazy, only not in the way you think. "Nothing."

"Are you sure? It's nearly three."

"Then why are you still up?"

Kurt didn't seem to have a response to that, and eventually Finn fell asleep.

Kurt was slowly crawling up his body, making sure every inch of their skin was touching. His hands were everywhere, touching everything, setting his nerves on fire. He stopped for a moment to softly kiss his burning skin before continuing. Finn let out a low moan, a quiet sound that reverberated through his body, making Kurt shiver.

Kurt finally reached his destination and stopped, letting him take in the sensation. He was lying fully on top of him, bare chest against bare chest, bare legs twined together, bare erections barely touching. He leaned down and pressed his lips gently against Finn's.

"I love you," he whispered, then kissed him again. Kurt's lips were so soft, and now it was his turn to shiver.

"I love you, too," Finn said, leaning up for another kiss. He slid his tongue into his mouth, tasting him, claiming him. Their lips moved together, tongues exploring, hands moving over their bodies, hardly able to tell where one started and the other ended. Kurt slipped his hand between them, first touching him so gently it almost tickled, then wrapping his hand around Finn. He moaned, thrusting into his hand.

"Kurt."

He smiled, kissed him once more, then slid down his body. His mouth joined his hand and Finn's moans grew louder. He reached down and tangled his fingers in his hair, holding him there, knowing he shouldn't and not being able to help himself.

"Kurt."

He started moving faster, sucking not as gently, licking, touching, doing anything and everything he had ever fantasized about. He was moaning too, feeding off Finn's arousal. He could feel him getting harder, breathing getting faster and uneven, and still getting louder and louder. He moved one hand down, touching, caressing, cradling his sac.

"Kurt!"

He came hard, groaning deep in the back of his throat, shaking, exploding into his mouth. Kurt kept sucking, swallowing, cleaning him, bringing him back down. He kissed his softening erection, lips barely touching it, then moved up, lying on Finn, covering him, holding him.

"Kurt…"

"I love you."

Finnwoke up feeling awful. There was a sinking feeling in his stomach like there was something he should feel guilty about, but he had just woken up, so how could he have already done something wrong?

Then he noticed his sheets.

"Oh no," he whispered. Closing his eyes, praying he was wrong, he reached down. No, he was not wrong. The dream came flooding back in vivid clarity and he had to bite back a moan of despair. He buried his face in his pillow again, willing himself to disappear.

"Good morning, sleepyhead!" The voice was bright and cheerful, a stark contrast to the quiet, sultry tones that had been in his dream. He heard the footsteps coming down the stairs and sat up, grabbing the blankets around himself, obscuring any evidence. Had Kurt heard him last night? Was that why he was so happy?

"Morning," Finn mumbled, looking anywhere other than Kurt.

"I made waffles," he announced, thankfully staying at the base of the staircase. "They're in the kitchen, getting cold. Did you sleep well?" The question sounded genuine, and Finn decided that wasn't what he would've asked if he knew.

"Yeah, I guess," he said. "Waffles sound good."

"Then what are you waiting for?" Kurt asked. "School starts in a half hour, and we need to leave in fifteen."

Finn stayed where he was, trying to figure out how to get up. There was undoubtedly a stain on the front of his pajamas, and he couldn't very well stand up naked. "I'll, uh, meet you upstairs?" he said, hoping Kurt would get the hint.

He did. "Oh, okay," he said, giving him a confused look. "Just don't take too long."

"Yeah, I won't," Finn replied, waiting until he was absolutely certain Kurt was out of sight before getting out of bed. He got dressed and quickly as he could, shoving the dirty pants to the bottom of the laundry basket. He didn't know how he was going to clean them, or the sheets, but right now the most important thing was to get upstairs before Kurt grew any more suspicious.

The waffles were delicious, and Finn downed three of them in a space of about a minute. Kurt was watching him, looking disgusted.

"Hungry much?"

Finn shrugged, starting in on a fourth. "Did you hear anything weird last night?" he asked, hoping he couldn't sound too awkward with a mouth full of waffle.

Kurt gave him another weird look. "No, why? Did you?"

Finn breathed a sigh of relief, or would've if his mouth hadn't still been full. "Nope."

"Okay…"

The car ride to school was awkward, at least on Finn's end. He felt vaguely sick, but he couldn't tell if it was from inhaling the waffles or residual guilt from last night. He stared out the window thinking about how to deal with the sheets, how lucky he was that Kurt had been asleep, anything other than the dream itself. Every now and then a fragment would intrude, making his stomach tighten sickeningly, and it was this face that caught Kurt's attention.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "You look like you're about to throw up."

Finn grimaced and looked out the window. "I'm fine."

"Was it the waffles? It was a new recipe, but I thought they came out fabulously."

"I told you, I'm fine."

Kurt glanced at him, torn. "There's something I need to tell you, which is why I made the waffles in the first place, and I was hoping to wait until you're in a better mood, but we're almost at school, and you really should know."

Finn's stomach knotted tighter. Oh god, Kurt did know. He had just been playing dumb, trying to load him up with waffles to brighten his mood. His head spun with potential consequences—being kicked out again, having to live in the laundry room, needing to explain to Kurt's dad why he had ruined their only guest sheets. Or, worst of all, maybe Kurt had enjoyed it. Maybe he had joined him, jerking off to whatever noises he had made. Please god, no, Finn thought. "Wh-what is it?" he managed to force out.

"Well, the Glee Club and I have decided to…"

Finn breathed a huge sigh of relief, not bothering to listen to the rest of what Kurt was saying. He leaned back in his seat and let Kurt's words wash over him, basking in the relief that he hadn't been caught.

"Finn? Hello, earth to Finn? Did you hear anything I said?" Kurt's voice cut through his thoughts like a knife.

"Uh, no," he admitted sheepily. "Maybe I did have too many waffles."

Kurt gave him a look that was half glare, half smile. "Maybe indeed. What I said was that today everyone in Glee is coming into school decked out in their best Gaga wear. I know you don't have anything, so I took the liberty of making you a costume."

Finn jerked, sitting up straight. "What? Why didn't you guys tell me?"

"Well you weren't at lunch when it was decided, and then I was waiting to catch you in a good mood."

Finn sat in his seat, staring at Kurt, barely noticing that they were pulling into the school's parking lot. "I have to dress like Gaga. Like a girl."

Kurt squirmed in his seat, trying to keep his attention on parking. "That or Kiss, but I know how upset you were about the makeup, so—"

"So you decided I have to wear a dress instead of demon make up?" Finn said, voice getting louder. "Without asking me, or giving me a choice, or anything?"

Kurt turned the car off, and Finn could see how uncomfortable he was. Good, he thought. Let him know how it feels. "I was just trying to help."

"That's what you said about the room, and you know how well that turned out." Finn got out of the car and slammed the door behind him. "When will you get it through that thick head of yours that I don't want your help?" he yelled through the open window. "That there is nothing you could ever possibly help me with?"

Kurt's eyes were filling with tears, and Finn felt a pang of regret. "What about your bed, huh? That was my idea."

Finn looked around, looked for anyone who could've misunderstood. There was a gaggle of cheerleaders staring at them, and Karofsky and Azimio were nudging each other and pointing in their direction. Finn turned back to Kurt, eyes blazing, any regret gone. "Just shut up," he hissed, voice dropping. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Are you that ashamed of me, Finn?" Kurt said, not bothering to lower his voice. "Is living with me really that bad?"

Finn slammed a hand against the side of Kurt's car. "Screw you," he said, not paying attention to the volume of his voice. "You and your room, your car, your dress you want me to wear. I give up—I quit. Tell Glee I'm not coming back." He started to walk away, then turned back. "And don't expect me to come home tonight, either."

Finn felt terrible. Not a normal sort of terrible, or a waffles-related terrible, but a down-and-out, I-can't-focus-on-anything-other-than-the-depths-of-my-misery sort of terrible. He felt like he was going to throw up, or pass out, or both. Or maybe the floor would cave in and swallow him whole—that would be preferable to sitting right here, right now, in Mr. Shuester's Spanish class.

"Finn? Can you tell us the translation of 'Not focusing in class is the prime reason for failing the test on Friday', please?"

Finn looked up from his desk. "Sorry, what?"

There must have been something on his face, because instead of repeating the question Mr. Shuester appeared at his desk, a concerned look on his face. "Are you okay, Finn?" he asked, voice low. "Do you need to go to the nurse?"

Finn nodded, relieved. "Thanks, Mr. Shue." He got up and left the class, ignoring the looks of concern and confusion from his fellow Glee-mates. Instead of going to the nurse he wandered the school, lost in thought, only they weren't so much thoughts as an overwhelming feeling of despair. His feet shuffled along, taking him through the familiar hallways, somehow managing to avoid anyone who might ask why he wasn't in class.

The bell rang, and classroom doors started opening. Finn nearly panicked, not wanting to see anyone from Glee, especially Kurt. In a sudden burst of inspiration he disappeared into the throng of freshman surrounding him and emerged on the roof, a place he and Quinn used to come to make out. He slid the piece of cardboard into place so the door wouldn't lock behind him without thinking about it and sat down by the door, keeping low so nobody looking up would be able to see him. He kept telling himself there had to be a way to fix what he had said, but he just couldn't convince himself. Maybe if it hadn't been the second time this week, maybe if he hadn't just barely managed to patch things up the first time, maybe this could squeak by. But since all of those things were true, Finn could only come to one conclusion:

He was well and truly fucked, and he had no one to blame but himself.