Kurt's POV

Mercedes was speeding down a deserted suburban road in my brand new red sports car, gripping the steering wheel so tight that the tips of her fingers looked like they were melded to my heated steering wheel cover.

"Turn left," I muttered as we reached an intersection. Mercedes obliged. We continued down the road until we reached Finn's house: a 70's style three story on the corner of the street.

Without a word, I gathered my purchases and my shoulder bag. I got out of the car and regarded my best friend coldly.

"You can take the car home," I said flippantly. "I'll pick it up at school on Monday, and I can drive you home. Thanks for the ride, 'Cedes."

"Kurt…" she sounded disappointed. I internally rolled my eyes. I knew what was coming next… I'd heard it a million times before.

"Kurt, I know you like him, but you gotta remember that he's straight. Don't get yourself hurt if he can't reciprocate your feelings."

I turned back to her and pursed my lips. To me, right now, she was just another disapprover.

"Mercedes, how many times to I need to tell you that I've given up? I don't need to hear this right now, because it just makes things harder. Finn needs a friend, and that's what I intend on being for him. I've put my desires aside, and hearing about it just makes it more painful. You've gotta trust me, okay? I'm a big boy now!"

Mercedes smiled at me sadly. I knew that I shouldn't be going off at her like this, because she was the first person who had actually cared about my feelings in a long time, but I was sick of thinking about this. I just wanted a chance to be near Finn.

"Okay," her smile widened a bit. "I trust you. I just don't want to see you all depressed again, because I care about you. But for what it's worth, I think you should go for it, boy."

I grinned at her. "Thanks, Mercedes. See you on Monday."

"See ya, Kurt," she called as she sped off. "Thanks for the car!"

In a whoosh of discarded fall leaves and the screech of my all season tires on the asphalt, I was left alone in front of Finn Hudson's house clutching seven full shopping bags and a bag filled with notebooks and school assignments.

My feet carried me up to their wooden porch, adorned with floral deck furniture and an old plastic baby swing that Finn had told me he had found in his shed and brought out to give to Quinn before he found out about Puck. Now it sat discarded in the corner, covered in dead foliage. The seat was filled with dirty rain water. I nudged it with my foot, careful not to get any of the muddy water on my white leather shoes. Can you say fashion disaster? The water spilled over the side of the porch, and as it emptied I readjusted it to a more upright position. I figured Finn might want it some day, and it wouldn't do any good if it was covered in mold.

Leaving the swing alone, I ventured up to the door and knocked on it softly. After all, what good is a manicure if your knuckles are a mess?

The door opened milliseconds later, as if Finn had been standing there, waiting for me to arrive. Or maybe he'd heard my conversation with Mercedes…

This thought only occupied my mind for a moment, because as soon as I looked up at Finn, his face erupted into a huge bright grin. The instant I saw it, it turned my mind into mush, and it struck me that this was the first time I had seen him smile… like, really smile, in weeks. Immediately I knew that he hadn't heard a word of what I'd said to Mercedes.

"Hey Kurt!" he said with profound enthusiasm.

I raised an eyebrow. "Have you been taking vitamins from Mr. Schuster's wife again?"

Finn sobered a bit at the comment. "Nope," he said, "Just excited. Mr. Schu is letting me do a solo performance in Glee on Monday. I just found the perfect song."

"Oh," I said, glad that he'd found something to be passionate about, even if it would only last for the weekend. "Do you want me to help you practice?"

"Thanks, but no thanks," he said as he motioned me inside. "Nothing personal, it's just… well… it's kind of a secret."

"A secret?"

"Yeah. Don't worry… you'll hear it on Monday with everyone else in Glee."

I nodded my head as I inhaled deeply, as discreetly as I could. I loved the smell of the Hudson house: it smelled like wood, fireplaces, home cooking, and fresh flowers. Actually, I love everything about the Hudson house. I loved the walls made of knotty pine, I loved the cheesy patriotic pictures, I loved the disorganized kitchen in which something was always cooking. Everything. It felt so homey, so secure, so safe, so… loving, compared to the modernized mansion I lived in with my Dad. That's why I usually insisted on coming here to see Finn instead of inviting him over.

"Do you want to bring that stuff up to my room?" he asked, motioning to my day's purchases.

"Sure," I said, shifting the weight onto my shoulders and starting up the staircase. The worn wood creaked under my feet, and creaked again as Finn followed up behind me.

My favorite part of Finn's house is his room. He'd never bothered to paper over the cowboy/Indian wallpaper of his childhood, which gave his room a cozy, innocent feel. His bed, which was usually unmade and covered in covered in schoolbooks, laid facing his TV and X-Box, and off to the other side of his room, near the window and his Dashboard Confessional poster, was a messy desk with his laptop sitting atop it. It was the room of a typical teenaged boy… but today it wasn't so typical (of Finn, anyway.)

His bed was made, his schoolbooks were neatly piled on his desk, and his TV was off. I unloaded my bags onto the closet door handle.

"Whoa… did your Mom clean your room or something?" I asked in disbelief.

Finn tried to smother a proud smile. "No… I cleaned it myself this morning."

I think my heart nearly stopped. Finn Hudson cleaned his room, but not only that: Finn Hudson cleaned his room because I was coming over. Oh my God.

I searched for something to say to break the lull in the conversation, but I couldn't seem to form any words. Instead, I reached for the shopping bag on the front of my pile.

"I bought something for you at the mall today," I said as I shoved the bag towards him. I noticed his hands are easily two times bigger than my own as the bag was being transferred. I gingerly sat down at the top of Finn's bed and watched as he withdrew the navy blue waist length wool peacoat that I'd found for him at my favorite vintage clothing store.

"I saw it while I was shopping and it made me think of you," I murmured softly as I surveyed his reaction. Everything I see makes me think of you, I thought to myself, but didn't dare say it out loud. I was overpowered with a wave of dimply cuteness as Finn slipped his unbuttoned dress shirt off and shrugged the coat on. My assumption had been right: he looked amazing in it.

"Wow, Kurt. Thank you so much… you really didn't have to. I love it!"

He walked over to the bed, and I stood up just in time to be enveloped in a bone crushing hug. I clasped my arms around his neck and burrowed my face into the crease between his neck and his shoulder, breathing in the scent of his skin, caressing the familiar feeling of wool under my fingers, and praying that he didn't notice. The truth was, I could survive on moments like these. Maybe it was better that Finn didn't know how I felt, because I could still have these feelings and pretend that he felt them, too. The only danger was, it was too easy to get caught up.

The hug lasted longer than it probably should have.

When he let go he sat down on the bed beside me. He had that sad puppy dog look in his eyes again. I knew what he was thinking about.

"You miss her, don't you?" I whispered. We both knew I wasn't talking about Quinn. We'd had that conversation before.

"I don't even know why," he shook his head. "I mean, I know she's not mine, and I try to tell myself I don't love her anymore… but I do." His voice faded off, and I knew it was my time to talk.

"It's hard to stop loving someone." I spoke from experience. "But you've got to remember that one day you'll have your own kids with a girl," I tried to suppress a cringe, "that you love that loves you back."

I reconsidered adding the next part, but in the end I did.

"Plus, you deserve to be in that baby's life, and Quinn knows it. Personally, I think you'd be a kickass uncle." I laid a hand gently on Finn's knee. A gesture of reassurance, nothing more. It coaxed a tiny smile.

"That's actually… a good idea. I guess I should probably apologize to Quinn anyway, after the way I reacted. I think that would make it kind of better. But… I can't talk to her without crying like a girl."

"That's okay. You have six months to make your move, remember. Everything's going to be okay."

He put his arms around me again. I nearly fainted.

"Thanks Kurt. You always know how to make me feel better." He released me and took a deep breath. "So… what do you want to do?"

"Your house, your decision. Besides, I chose last time," I chortled as I recalled Finn curled up into a blubbering ball at the end of Moulin Rouge last week.

Finn smiled mischievously. "In that case, I have the perfect thing…"

I couldn't help but beam back as he got up. I needed to make a decision…I would either have to keep on living a dream that was bound to end in pain, tell Finn the truth, which could destroy our entire relationship, or leave the whole thing behind before I got hurt beyond point of return.