Chapter Three: June 2011, Week One
"C'mon, Kurt!" Finn bounded across the parking lot with his backpack and a single suitcase.
Kurt sighed, and hefted his second suitcase out of the Navigator.
"I'd move a lot faster if you'd help me," he called, but Finn was already on the sidewalk stalking towards the dorm they'd been assigned in their welcome letters. Kurt just held his head up, threw his shoulders back, and walked as quickly and dignified as he could and still catch up to Finn.
The lobby of the dorm was absolute chaos. There were kids everywhere, with parents and luggage, and everyone was milling around in front of two folding tables while a handful of B-W t-shirted staff were talking over the din, trying to funnel everyone into two lines.
"Okay, kids, A-M over here and N-Z on that - Kurt!" The voice was more than a little familiar. Kurt's eyes flew open, and he found himself staring into the mahogany eyes of Darius Mitchell. "What are you doing slumming with these high school kids?"
Kurt laughed in spite of himself, and shook his head as he opened his arms to hug Darius. "So soon they forget - I am one of those high school kids. But - you're not an instructor here?"
"For the summer, I sure as shit am," he said with a wide grin. "Pardon me. I've got to learn to curb my mouth."
"Please. I'm sure most of us have said way worse than that." Kurt smiled, feeling light and happy that he got to be here with Finn and Toby, and now Darius, too. They'd met Darius last summer, when Kurt had somehow ended up being cast in summer theater with Toby, Mr. Schue, Shelby and Blaine. Seeing Darius reminded him of a time when things had been easier - so much simpler than this last impossible year.
"I gotta-" Darius gestured to the seemingly unending stream of kids filling up the lobby, and Kurt nodded as he turned to help a girl and her parents. "I'll catch you later, though, yeah?"
Kurt nodded, and smiled, shifting his gaze to the rest of the room. Sometimes it felt like he was magnetized or something, because he always found Finn, even in a room this crowded with people. But Finn wasn't alone; Mike was standing next to him, a duffel over his shoulder, looking a little lost.
Kurt picked his way through the crowd to them, and put a hand on Finn's arm. "Finn - did you see? Darius is a counselor here."
Finn smiled, but his eyes looked a little sad. "Cool. I haven't seen him in ages, not since I stopped going to Columbus."
"Yeah," Kurt said softly. Darius was Irene's cousin, and Irene's coffeehouse would forever be linked, in Finn's mind, with last winter and his first months with Carl - and Blaine. Finn didn't let things go easily; he needed them to be steady and ordinary, or else things would begin to feel out of place. Kurt leaned in and gave him a quick kiss. "We'll get signed in, and find out where our rooms are, all right?"
"Okay," Finn agreed. Kurt surveyed the lines, and nodded to the back of the longer one.
"I wish there weren't so many people in the first half of the alphabet." He picked up his bags and started towards the line, ignoring his want to look back to make sure Mike and Finn were following. "I'm ready to get this summer started!"
0M0
Mike was kind of surprised at the way Kurt sort of took charge. Not only that, but also at the way Finn let him take charge, because it seemed to Mike that Finn was usually the one taking care of things for all of the guys. They stood around silently as they shuffled slowly through the line, until Mike was standing in front of a young woman with a cardboard box in front of her.
"Name?" She didn't even look up at his response, running the tip of her pencil down a list on a clipboard. "Yeah. You'll be in 305. You've got two roommates. We're sorry about that." She scowled. "There was a busted pipe up on the fifth floor, so we've had to triple some of you up."
She thumbed through her box and slid a manilla envelope across the table to Mike with a perfectly manicured finger. "That's your keys and name badge and class schedule and all. Elevator's through the double doors to the left. Orientation meeting's in the auditorium at 5, there's a map in your packet. Next?"
Mike moved to the side and waited for Kurt and Finn to finish, the two of them standing side by side. Mike wondered if anyone else noticed the way Kurt had his hand settled lightly against Finn's back. Wondered if anyone even cared.
Wondered what he'd been thinking, that this was any kind of a good idea. The only reason he'd been able to come in the first place was because of the scholarship and because it was a college-run program. Apparently his father cared more about the reputation of the program than the content, so Mike had been able to gloss over the performing arts aspect of things, and his father had been too busy with financial reports and stock sales or something to notice.
He had to make this work. Had to prove, to himself if no one else, that he was as talented as Britt and Tina and even Toby had been telling him, because he didn't think he'd get this lucky a second time.
Finn turned around with his papers in his hands, and his grin didn't do anything to calm Mike's jumpy nerves. "What?" Mike said, suspiciously.
"Somebody's either not paying attention, or they're being really nice to us," Finn said, pointing at his paper. "Me and Kurt are roommates. Room 305."
His stomach did a slow roll. "Uh... me too."
Finn's grin dropped away, and he peered at Mike's packet. "Really? I don't - oh, they did say something about some people having three in a room."
"I can move somewhere else," Mike said, somewhat desperately, but Finn shook his head.
"No, no, that's cool." Finn frowned at his paper. Then he seemed to notice Mike's discomfiture, smiled and put a hand on his shoulder. "You're completely fine, man. We can keep our hands to ourselves. Kurt and I have had a lot of practice at that."
Mike knew it was true; they'd managed to hide the nature of their relationship secret from the school for the past two years, though there were plenty of rumors among the student body. He crossed his arms, hunching into himself. "I know, and that really sucks. You guys shouldn't have to censor yourselves for me. You came here to be yourselves, not to keep hiding."
But Finn was shaking his head again. "That's not how we are around you, dude. You don't ask us to pretend not to be together. But we can respect your privacy. I'm sure you can give us some time to ourselves every now and then."
Mike took a deep breath and mustered a grin and a wink for Finn. "Sock on the doorknob or something?"
"Or something," Finn laughed. "We'll figure it out. C'mon, man, let's go get unpacked."
The room was unremarkable, with a set of bunk beds standing across from a single bed. When Mike followed Finn through the door, Kurt was standing in front of the bunk beds with his head tilted sideways. "Do you think . . ." he caught Finn's eye and nodded at the beds.
"Take them down? So we each have a single?" Finn glanced at Mike, and Mike shrugged before smiling at Kurt.
"You're lucky, I guess, that Finn and I can totally rock this." He dropped his dance bag onto the floor and joined the others in front of the beds. "It looks like we might need a screwdriver."
Kurt smirked at Finn, and nodded at Mike. "I guess it's a good thing I never bothered to take my toolbox out of the Nav." He turned on his heel and stalked out of the room.
"He has a toolbox?" Mike asked Finn.
"Dude. Kurt is like, an awesome mechanic. And he's really hot, when he's in mechanic mode."
Mike spluttered gracelessly. "I'll trust you on that."
It was uncomfortable to unpack in front of Finn, while Kurt unfastened the beds with a few quick, practiced movements of his ratcheting screwdriver. Mike tucked his clothes into the third drawer down as quickly as he could, repacking his few books, workout clothes and his journal into his backpack. He gazed out the window at the unfamiliar courtyard below, and sighed. He missed Tina already.
Finn didn't seem to notice Mike's malaise, luckily. He was talking animatedly about his schedule - they apparently had men's chorus together - so Mike didn't realize Kurt was watching him until the beds were already apart and the desks rearranged to make room for the third single. He jumped when Kurt touched his arm.
"You've been away from home before," Kurt said quietly. "Haven't you?"
"To Asian Camp, yeah. But that was only ever for two weeks." He shrugged. "And more than half the kids there, I'd known all my life. This is just . . . a lot different."
Kurt gestured at Finn, stowing his empty suitcase under his bed. "You know us."
"Yeah," Mike said, then sighed again in frustration. "I mean, no. I don't, really. Finn and I have been in school together since we were kids, but we were never... friends. And you and me?" He shrugged halfheartedly. "Kurt, I don't really know you at all."
Kurt's smile was kind. "Well, here we are. It's a great opportunity to get to know one another." He held out a hand. "Hi. I'm Kurt."
Mike decided there was no harm in playing along. "Hi," he replied, taking Kurt's hand. "I'm Mike. You're very impressive with that screwdriver."
Kurt blinked, and for a few speechless moments, Mike thought maybe he'd embarrassed him. Then Kurt let loose a slow, teasing smile, and he looked him up and down, like he was... on display. Mike felt his own face go hot.
"Thank you," Kurt drawled, with a wink that was positively pornographic. "You should see me rebuild an engine."
Mike felt his breath get caught somewhere in his throat. What the hell was going on? He scrambled for a witty retort in his head, but he was so bad at flirting, he couldn't settle on anything before Finn was clearing his throat behind them.
"Dude," he said, in a mild undertone that made Mike's stomach clench. "You guys want me to leave you alone for a few minutes? Get out one of my socks for the doorknob, or something?"
Mike choked, but he almost stopped breathing when Kurt fixed him with another stare and smile.
"Not yet, sweetheart," Kurt said, taking Finn's hand. "We have four weeks, after all. No sense to hurry anything. Right, Mike?"
"Uh. Right." Mike's words echoed in his head. He couldn't believe he'd even said that. And how did Kurt even know? Did he have some blinking sign over his head or something? Maybe even with an arrow pointing at him. Confused, sheltered Asian kid here. Flirt away.
0M0
Toby pulled him aside after the orientation meeting, which had been pretty boring.
"I need you," Toby said, tugging him out of the mass of people heading to the dining hall.
"Excuse me?" Mike coughed, following Toby into one of the empty classrooms outside of the auditorium.
"They gave me this baby ballet class, and it's beyond full. Apparently none of the little squirts in the junior division have ever taken a ballet class before." He rolled his eyes. "I need an assistant, and I need it to be you." Toby fixed Mike with a stare. "Don't even think about saying no."
Mike shook his head. "I've never taught before."
"You help Kurt all the time. And you help all the kids in Glee. Teaching kids isn't that much different." Toby's face was pleading. "Don't make me beg, or resort to blackmail, because that won't be pretty at all. I'm terrible at blackmail."
"They know their right from their left, yeah?"
"With any luck."
"Then they have a step up on Finn, when we started Glee last fall." Mike sighed, and shrugged. "It can't be any worse than teaching him. Fine. I'll do it. But if I suck the first day, you'll let me quit, okay?"
But Mike was secretly pleased, because of all the kids there at B-W to study dance, Toby had picked him. Okay, so maybe Mike was the only one he knew well, or trusted to help. That didn't do anything to stop the warm glowy feeling in his middle. He picked me.
And you're going to suck, added the voice in his head, the one that sounded an awful lot like his father. If you think you can actually be of any use to Toby at all, you're dead wrong. You're just going to freeze up, like you always do when you try to talk in front of actual people.
"You're not going to suck," Kurt said later, waving his toothbrush in the air like a conductor on his way to brush his teeth. "Toby wouldn't have asked you if he didn't think you'd be great at it."
Mike tucked his pen into the middle of his journal to mark the page, and then set it on the floor next to his bed. "I hope you're right," he said.
He was so nervous he didn't think he'd be able to sleep. Not just about teaching, either. He would be taking Men's Chorus, which sounded plenty nervewracking all on its own, and advanced workshops in ballet and modern dance, plus Toby had insisted that Mike take a tap class.
"Anyway, Toby loves you. He thinks you're amazing." Kurt ducked his head out of the bathroom to grin at Mike. "And I think you think he's pretty amazing, too."
Mike blushed and ducked his head. "He's a good teacher," he said to his feet. "That's all."
"Uh huh," Kurt said with a wink and a smile. "Right. That's why you were staring at his abs when he took off his shirt at the end of our ballet practice last week?"
"Kurt!" Mike felt his ears positively burning, but he couldn't acknowledge his reaction because... no. It was too much.
It didn't help, either, that Kurt and Finn were going out of their way to be platonic around him, even here in their own room with no one else watching. Aside from a chaste kiss at the end of the day, Mike hadn't seen them be physical with one another at all. And if it felt anything for them like it did for Mike, being away from Tina, well, he could guess how much they were restraining themselves.
"You know, Kurt, you guys don't have to pretend in the room," he said, trying to be casual as he moved past Kurt and into the bathroom for his turn at the sink. "I really don't mind, if you want to kiss." And I wouldn't mind watching, he thought for an instant before stopping that dangerous train in its tracks.
Finn's only response was a mild, "Thanks, man," but Kurt shook his head, sitting cross-legged on his bed.
"We've been doing fine. It's better this way, trust me. There's just - too much going on around here. Even if we were alone, the walls are too thin for us to do anything."
"Kurt," Finn said quietly, and Kurt stopped talking. Finn smiled at Mike. "Thanks," he repeated. "We'll keep it in mind."
0M0
Mike fell asleep easily, even though he usually had a hard time his first few nights in a new place, but he woke up in the middle of the night to muffled voices and the whisper of moving cloth, and he had to think for a minute to remember where he was. And who was in the room with him.
"Baby," he heard, low and intense, and Mike felt a shiver.
"Don't you dare stop," Kurt ground out. "Fuck, Finn."
Mike kept his eyes closed, listened to Finn chuckle and then say something to Kurt that he didn't quite understand. "I thought I was the Top."
"You are, sir," Kurt answered, an odd mix of gentle affection and something more intense.
"Yeah, well." Finn sounded equally affectionate. "Maybe it can be different here, for the summer. You need it as much as I do."
The image in Mike's head had something to do with who was kneeling over whom, and whose hands were grasping and whose were held immobile, but it was all very hazy and far too intense for Mike to dwell on for long. Unfortunately, he was stuck in bed, with no headphones or extra pillows to block out the sound of Kurt's rapid breath, or Finn's noises of encouragement.
He shifted, tucking one arm under his pillow and settling on his stomach to make it seem like he'd just turned over in his sleep. Kurt and Finn were still and silent for a moment, and then he heard Kurt giggle. After that, there were more soft kissing sounds, increasingly frantic gasps and, finally, two very muffled groans.
"We can't do this every night," Kurt whispered after a brief pause. "What if Mike had woken up? Talk about embarrassing."
"You heard him, baby," Finn replied in a murmur. "He said it was okay. I don't think he'd mind so much."
"On the contrary; I think he'd mind a lot." Mike heard shuffling, and then the soft slap of bare feet on the linoleum. "We need to sleep in our own beds."
"Don't you trust me?" Finn sounded mock-hurt.
"Don't trust myself. You know I can't resist you in the morning." Kurt's voice was teasing, and Mike realized yet again that the Kurt he knew from school and the Kurt he was coming to know here were two very different people.
Nobody ever said it was going to be a boring summer, he thought as he listened to Finn's breathing even out and Kurt settling back into his own bed. Mike kept his eyes closed and it wasn't long before he was drifting off himself.
It was just barely sunrise, if the odd gray light peeking under the edge of the blinds was any indication, when Mike woke again. His heart was pounding out of his chest and his breath was coming hard and shallow - and he was more turned on than he knew what to do with.
His mind was stuck on his dream: a loop of diaphanous vision and sound, unidentifiable hands stroking him and lips against the side of his neck, and none of it had been Tina's gentleness or softness. The people - people, plural? - in his dream had been guys, and he really wasn't sure which was turning him on more: men, or more than one of them?
How about all of it? he thought, and then closed his eyes. No, no, no. Don't go there. Baby steps, Michael. Even if you have a green light from Tina, that doesn't mean you need to go crazy.
Mike slipped from his bed and moved silently to gather his towel and toiletries before crossing the room to the bathroom. He shut the door carefully and turned the shower as hot as he could stand it before climbing inside. The water felt good on his skin, but did nothing to lessen the impact of his dream. He knew he needed to do something, but it still felt weird even though Finn and Kurt were sound asleep and the door was closed.
It's not like they'll even be able to hear you over the running water, he thought, grasping himself tentatively and stroking once. It's not like last night - and he hardly had to move his hand a second time, because just the memory of what he'd overheard sent him over the edge.
"Oh, god," he whispered into the air, resting his head against the shower wall. He'd never had a control problem before, but at least he'd been alone. At least you waited until you were out of bed, he thought, because having to change his sheets the first day would have been really embarrassing.
He washed quickly, knowing that he'd shower again at least once before the day was over because there was going to be a lot of dancing happening, and wrapped his towel around his waist before heading back into the room. Kurt was sitting up in bed, squinting and rubbing at his face.
"What time is it?" He fumbled around for his watch, but Mike waved him off.
"Early. I couldn't sleep. I'm gonna go stretch or something. See you guys at breakfast?"
"Uh huh." Kurt nodded at him, and then laid back down and pulled his blanket up over his head. "Have fun," he mumbled with a wave of two fingers over the edge of the blanket.
Mike put on soccer shorts and a t-shirt and stuffed his dance bag full of practice clothes for the day. He doubted he'd be getting back to the room until sometime in the afternoon, and he knew that the worst thing in the world would be showing up to a class unprepared on the first day. He made sure he had his key and his schedule and his music before heading out to the dance studios.
He was kind of surprised that they weren't locked, but as he wandered the empty hall he found that two of the smaller rooms were already occupied, one by a girl working carefully at the barre in what looked like brand new pointe shoes, and the other by a boy picking at a complicated tap combination.
Mike slipped into the third small studio and shoved his feet into his ballet shoes. He really needed a new pair; they were starting to wear down under his toes, but he liked the way they were perfectly broken in. They felt familiar, as did the series of stretches he worked through to warm his body up.
When he was pleasantly loose and feeling less stuck in his head, he decided to try working on some of the trouble spots in the variation Toby had him learning. For your auditions, he'd said, like it was already a done deal that Mike would be applying to conservatories instead of Harvard and Stanford like his parents expected. Like everyone expected.
He'd balked when Toby had given him videos of Nureyev and Baryshnikov to watch. "I can't do that," he'd said as Toby shoved the disks into Mike's hands after they'd watched the solo once through. "No way. I'm not that good."
Toby had tapped him on the forehead with the plastic case and shook his head. "You're so much better than you realize. We'll work on it together."
And they had, in bits and pieces over the past two months, but Mike had gotten stuck on the sequence of barrel turns and tours en l'air that were the centerpiece of the variation. He couldn't get the timing right, which he was sure had something to do with being a little too tall. He just couldn't turn fast enough in the air. Toby kept assuring him he'd get the hang of it in time.
Mike cued up his music and took the starting pose, moving through the familiar tours jetes and pirouettes. And then came the turns, and just like always he made it a quarter of the way around the studio before he was off the music.
"Dammit," he mumbled, backing the music up thirty seconds to try again, and again he lost the music. He slammed his palm roughly against the barre in frustration.
"Careful, you don't wanna break a hand on the first day." Toby's familiar voice drifted over from the doorway.
"I can't get this," he snarled, waving an angry hand at his iPod. "We've been working on it for weeks, and it never gets better."
"Well, sugar, tryin' to dance the shit out of it when you're all worked up about somethin' ain't the way to get there." Toby didn't move any farther into the studio, just waited in the doorway.
Mike glared at him. "I'm not worked up about anything."
"Uh huh," Toby said slowly. "Then how come the only ones here at this hour are you, a girl with a stage mother to rival Mama Rose from Gypsy, and a boy who only started dancing last year?"
"I don't know," he sighed. "Maybe they couldn't sleep either."
Toby held out a bottle of water. "If you're gonna dance, you need to stay hydrated. Did you warm up?"
Mike took the bottle and swigged half of it before nodding at Toby. "Thanks. And yes, I warmed up."
"Wanna talk about whatever it is you're tryin' to dance out?"
"No," Mike said, shaking his head. God, Toby never let up. "Not right now. I just- shit. I just want to get this stupid sequence right."
"Okay," Toby said, slipping off his sneakers and stepping into the studio. He took Mike's hand. "I know you want to show off your elevation, but I think that's where the problem is. You're getting too much air. Do you remember how Nureyev stayed so close to the stage?"
Mike nodded. "He was so fast."
"That's right. Think long instead of high. Show off those killer legs," Toby said with a wink and a teasing touch on Mike's thigh.
Mike pulled away with a light cough. "Can you show me?" he asked, mostly to cover up his nervousness. Toby's touch was nothing but friendly, but last night's dream was still too close to the surface of his mind for it to feel completely platonic.
"Hell." Toby waggled his finger at Mike. "I'm not warmed up at all, so do as I say and not as I do, and if I hurt myself, please remind me that I'm really too old to be so stupid?"
Mike had to smile. "Sure." Even when he was freaking out, Toby's humor still got to him. He set the music back to the beginning of the turn sequence and waited for Toby to nod at him.
Toby launched into the turns, and Mike could see the difference between what he had been doing and what Toby was doing. He had been working on height, whereas Toby was using the energy from his body to move sideways. He watched the muscles in Toby's legs coiling with each plié, and he tried not to stare. It's a different use of power, he realized. It's beautiful.
"Did that help?" Toby stood where he'd stopped moving, barely out of breath, and bent over to touch his nose to his knees in a stretch.
"Yeah," Mike said. "It did."
"Good," Toby said. He touched a hand to the middle of Mike's back to urge him into position. "Now it's your turn."
Mike sighed, took his pose, and nodded at Toby. Counted off the beat in his head and tried again. He knew, after the first three turns, that he was on the edge of losing the music again, but Toby was clapping out the beat and shouting at him.
"Push through, keep going," Toby called as Mike spun past him.
"Can't," he shouted back.
"I don't care, do it anyway. Dance the shit out of it, you know you want to."
He did. He wanted to get to that place where it was just him and the music, where his head was empty of everything and he was fully inside his body, but he couldn't.
"You're thinking too hard," Toby called on his second pass around the studio. "C'mon, Mike, just fucking let it go."
He launched into the last set of turns a half-breath behind the music, but he kept chasing after it, and when he spun into the chaîne turns at the end he was, impossibly, right on the music. When he struck the final pose, his head was amazingly quiet.
"That's how you do it!" Toby crossed the studio in three long strides and pulled him into a tight hug. "That's how you work through it. I'm so proud of you!"
Mike blinked at the sudden tears in his eyes, because god, that was all he'd ever wanted to hear from his father, and he was pretty sure that not only would he never get such an unashamed hug from him, he'd also never ever hear him say he was proud. Well, not unless Mike was graduating from law or medical school.
"Thanks," Mike said into Toby's shoulder. His words flowed freely on the heels of that success, and Toby's words of approval. "I'm not sure you know how much that means to me. My dad -"
Toby pulled away and smiled at Mike, a hand on his shoulder. "Say no more. Dads can be complicated. Someday I'll tell you all about my own. But right now, we're gonna be late for breakfast. And trust me, you'll never make it through the day if you don't eat."
Art by Emilywritescrap: i. minus.
0M0
Singing with the Men's Chorus was completely different than singing with Glee. At first Finn wasn't sure he was going to like it. It reminded him too much of watching Blaine sing rings around him with the Warblers, and feeling like the slow kid who never quite got the joke. He knew he wasn't all that talented, and pretending to be a musician when he really just had a fairly good ear and a questionably reliable high B was sort of embarrassing.
"I keep thinking somebody's going to find me out," he whispered to Mike from their spot in the back row. Mike gave him a quizzical look.
"What do you mean?" Mike whispered back.
"Gentlemen," called Mrs. Fairbank from the podium. "Focus on your music. Top of page three."
They waited until she wasn't looking. Finn stepped a little closer to Mike on the risers. "That I don't really know what I'm doing."
Mike's expression was incredulous. "Dude, and you think I do? I'm just a dancer. I hardly know how to read music."
"Boys." Mrs. Fairbanks actually stopped the chorus and gave them a pointed look. "You have something to share with the group?"
"Uh," said Finn. "No, ma'am?"
She set down her baton. "Well, perhaps I could persuade you to put your voices to better use. Give me the tenor line at the top of page three."
Mike glanced at Finn in panic. "Just the two of us?" he whispered.
Finn smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring way. "Hey, we can do this." He spoke loud enough to be heard over the three rows of guys standing in front of them. "At letter A?"
"That's it. Ready? You have your pitches?" She cued the accompanist to give them their note. "Coming in on four."
Finn didn't think about the thirty-eight other guys watching them. He just concentrated on the notes, and the warmth of Mike's arm brushing against his, and took a deep breath and opened his mouth. They started a little shakily, but Mr. Schue had taught them not to stop when they made a mistake, just to keep going. Nine times out of ten, the only person who'll notice is you, he'd said. And Finn had to admit, they sounded pretty good.
When they were done, several of the guys applauded, and he knew it wasn't for any reason other than the fact that they all knew how hard it was to get up in front of an unfamiliar crowd and do that. Mike let out the breath he'd been holding.
"Nicely done, gentlemen," said Mrs. Fairbanks, smiling. "Now let's see if you can keep your mind on your music. Everyone, we'll start at the same point."
Finn faced Mike afterward, gripping his shoulder in a lame substitute for a hug, but he didn't want to make Mike feel uncomfortable in front of everyone. "You were great," he said. "Really."
"Yeah?" Mike broke into a hopeful smile, and Finn felt a surprising shiver of appreciation for that expression. "You think so?"
"You're way too hard on yourself. Didn't Toby tell you the same thing?"
Mike shrugged. "Toby tells me I'm a perfectionist, which isn't necessarily a bad thing, but yeah. I guess I beat up on myself a lot."
"How come?" Finn closed his folder with a little snap and tucked it under his arm. "You're smart and talented and a good football player. And you have an awesome girlfriend." And you're hot, he wanted to add, but didn't because, well. Awkward.
Mike followed Finn down the risers to the front of the room to put away their folders. "I'm expected to be a certain way, do certain things. Disappointing my parents isn't an option. I just have to be perfect all the time."
Finn smiled gently at him. "Well... you don't have to do that here. You can be whoever you want to be. That's what Kurt said about going away for the summer. You can make it anything, anything you've ever wanted to try to be, and nobody has any expectations for you."
Mike looked away. "Except me."
Finn nodded, because he understood exactly how it felt to need to be good enough for himself. "It's only the first week, man. You have a lot of time left to figure out what you want."
0M0
Kurt dragged himself back to the room after dinner, thinking longingly about a hot shower, and a second hot shower followed by an ibuprofen chaser. Even his hair was tired.
He pushed the door open to the sound of water running in the bathroom. Mike was stretched out on the floor in a straddle, eyes moving rapidly over the pages of a thick novel. He lifted his gaze to meet Kurt's eyes. "Finn got here first. I think he's going to use all the hot water."
Kurt stepped gingerly to the bathroom and pounded half-heartedly on the door. "Other people need in there, Finn. Don't be a water hog."
"But I huuurrrrt," Finn moaned over the water. "That movement class Toby made me take is hard."
"Oh, poor baby," Kurt said. "But no, my ballet and jazz classes have no sympathy for your movement class. Mike and I hate you."
"Hate might be a little strong," Mike said from the floor, and Kurt shot him a glare. "Okay," Mike laughed. "Maybe not too strong for you."
"Can I have the next shower?" Kurt hated to ask, because he knew Mike had been dancing almost the whole day, but he was afraid that if he stopped moving without a shower he'd end up stuck.
"Sure," Mike shrugged, going back to his book.
"That looks really uncomfortable." He nodded at Mike's outstretched legs.
Mike shook his head. "No, not really. Feels kind of good, but Tina always tells me I'm too rubber-bandy for a little extra stretch to matter. You should try it, it might help."
"I don't-" Kurt started to protest, but Mike wrapped a hand around his ankle.
"C'mon," Mike said. "Stretch and tell me about your classes. That will be so much more interesting than this." He waved his hand at his book. "Stupid AP English."
"Anna Karenina," Kurt sighed, settling in on the floor and matching Mike's position. "I'm listening to the audiobook."
"Good idea," Mike said.
Kurt shrugged. "We started listening to them sophomore year. Puck and I were in English together, and he understands more when he listens, so. It works out pretty well."
"Cool. So, which class kicked your butt today?"
Kurt snorted. "Which one didn't? I'm in a ballet class with a bunch of fourteen year olds. I thought I'd learned a lot from Toby, but apparently not enough to get out of a beginner's class. And I'm still miles behind the others. Then there were crunches in jazz class. It's jazz class. Isn't it supposed to be dancing and not conditioning?"
Mike laughed, and Kurt felt indignant. "Don't laugh at me, I'm not part of this dancey universe."
"Sorry," Mike said. "Not laughing at you. Just, you know, conditioning is important."
"Says the king of the six pack abs." Kurt watched Mike blush. "Don't be ashamed, Mike."
Mike shook his head. "I'm just not used to people noticing, you know?"
"Yeah." Kurt sighed, remembering what it had felt like when he'd been invisible, and how odd it had been at first to bare his body for Finn and Puck. "I thought dancers didn't care about that. I mean, isn't dance pretty much about being an exhibitionist?"
Mike made a really undignified snort and plunked his forehead onto the open pages of his book. "I never thought about it that way, but I guess you're right. I wonder what that says about me."
Kurt took a breath and considered not teasing Mike, but he'd opened the door to it and Kurt couldn't resist. He rested a gentle hand on Mike's foot. "Maybe you like being watched. Good thing, too," he added with a smirk, "because I like watching."
Mike stammered out the beginning of a useless response before he stopped and gave up. Kurt just laughed, and eventually Mike recovered enough to grin, his face scarlet.
"I don't know what to do when you do that," he protested.
"Do what? Flirt, or overshare?"
This time Mike's laugh was more relaxed. "Uh, either one, I guess." He shook his head. "Nobody flirts with me."
Kurt smiled. "It took me a long time to learn how." He thought about Adam, how the anonymity of those first phone calls helped more than anything. "When I don't have to hide things, like I do at school, I tend to lose my filter. I don't mean to make you uncomfortable."
"It's okay," he whispered, knotting his hands. "I guess I just wonder what... um, what I should do. Because you're - there's you and Finn, I mean, and... and Blaine, and Puck, and... there are more, right?"
Kurt nodded. "They're not in town, but yes. There are more."
Mike's own head bobbed in return. He bit his lip. "So you, all of you... I mean, are you thinking I'm going to... not that you would, I'm just..." His eyes closed. "I'm sorry. This is ridiculous. Of course you don't."
Kurt regarded Mike and chose his next words carefully. "I learned a long time ago not to assume anything about what other people may think or feel. So... can I ask you a question?"
"Sure," Mike said, but his expression told Kurt he was anything but sure.
"Have you ever been attracted to other guys?" He knew, of course, because Tina had told him, but Kurt thought that maybe Mike needed to say it to someone else.
"You mean Finn didn't . . .?" Mike trailed off.
"I didn't what?" Finn padded out of the bathroom, dressed but still damp-looking.
"Tell Kurt about, um..." Mike blushed again and ducked his head. "You know."
"Oh!" Finn crinkled his eyes in a smile. "Yeah," he said to Kurt. "The day you guys got your letters for here? Mike kissed me." He settled cross-legged on the floor next to them.
Mike looked at Finn incredulously. "You didn't tell him."
"Nah," Finn replied with a tip of one shoulder. "Not my secret to tell, man. Trust me, we both know how to keep secrets."
Kurt held Finn's gaze for a moment, smiling, to let him know that he wasn't upset that Finn hadn't told him, then looked back to Mike. "Did it help you figure anything out?"
"I don't know," Mike said, shaking his head. "I think it made things more confusing."
Finn nudged Mike with his knee. "Been there. Sometimes you just have to relax and let things happen. You'll figure it out when the time is right."
Kurt was feeling a little extraneous, because he'd never really questioned who he was, but he'd learned a lot in the last two years. "It's not a race," he added gently.
"Trust me, I'm not in any hurry." Mike let out a shaky laugh. "I've been waiting a long time to talk about it at all. And I think I need to wait a little longer before I do anything about it. I mean - not that I'm going to do anything." His face went red. Kurt reached out a hand and put it on his shoulder, and he just about jumped out of his skin.
I know how that feels, Kurt thought, and without any pause he reached out the other hand and pulled Mike into a tight hug.
"Don't worry," he murmured. "You've got friends. You've got us. And you don't have to be scared. Nothing's going to happen."
"Really?" Kurt felt Mike go limp in his arms.
Kurt gave Finn a pointed look over Mike's shoulder. Finn raised an eyebrow and said nothing. "Really," he affirmed. "Nothing you don't want. You don't have to worry."
Kurt released Mike, and Finn was right there pressing Mike's phone into his hand. "Why don't you give Tina a call? I bet you miss her like crazy."
Mike nodded, and took his phone with shaking hands. "I think . . . I think I'm going to take a walk and talk to Tina. Maybe get a pop or something."
"Good," Finn said, patting Mike on the shoulder. "Don't worry, we won't sock the door while you're gone."
Mike smiled weakly at that. "Thanks," he mumbled, grabbing his key off the top of the dresser before heading into the hall. Kurt waited until the door was closed and Mike's footsteps were lost under the music pounding from the room next door before leaning into Finn's arms.
"I forgot how it felt, being confused," he said into Finn's t-shirt.
Finn stroked his back, holding him close. "It was only a few years ago that I was feeling like that." Kurt felt the rumble of his laugh. "Hell, I still feel confused half the time."
"I think that's normal?" Kurt looked into Finn's eyes and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. "I mean, we're all still in high school, and there's so much going on all the time."
Kurt felt Finn's hand tighten at the back of his neck, and Kurt leaned in closer, kissed harder and deeper, until Finn was groaning into his mouth. "Now I wish I hadn't promised that to Mike," he said, his breathing uneven and eyes dark with need. "I miss you, Kurt."
Kurt's breath hitched, and he curled his fingers around the waistband of Finn's shorts. "I miss you too, sweetheart." He slid his hand under the fabric, let his hand drift over Finn's cock, already hard and ready. "I can take care of that for you. You know I can be fast." He rose up on his tiptoes to whisper into Finn's ear. "Remember the janitor's closet."
Finn half-laughed, half-moaned his response, bucking against Kurt's light touch. "God... I'd almost forgotten sophomore year. I can't believe we ever did that stuff at school without a lock on the door. But, baby..." He cupped Kurt's face in one hand, looking deep into his eyes, while the other went down to grip Kurt's ass. "That would be awesome, but... it's not exactly what I've been missing. And I don't think we can do that here."
Kurt shivered at the ideas Finn's words inspired. He rested his head on Finn's shoulder. "Hmmm... of the two things you might want to do with that part of my anatomy...?" Because either one would be awesome, but Kurt needed to know where Finn's head was.
Finn gave him a crooked smile. "Does it have to be one or the other?"
"No," Kurt assured him. "I don't know how people manage to keep them separate, honestly: discipline and sex. I mean, I know it happens - Carl does it, right? But it's so . . . intimate."
"Tell me about it." Finn nodded. "You remember when Carl was first teaching me? He said he could give me what I needed without it being about sex, but you know that was a complete failure."
Kurt remembered all too well. Just talking about it was a total turn-on. "It doesn't matter, anyway, because I didn't bring any tools, so we're just going to have to manage for the next month." Kurt shook his head in despair. "Why didn't I bring any tools?"
Finn gave his ass another squeeze. "Who needs tools?" he breathed, and kissed him on the neck. Kurt shivered, because Finn had found that spot that never failed to make him weak-kneed. "It's okay, baby. I'm just teasing you. I can wait a few more weeks. I think." He pulled Kurt's hips close against his thigh and gave him a little grind. "For some things, anyway. But you mentioned something about... being fast?"
Kurt wedged his hand back between them and deftly popped the button on Finn's shorts. He hummed in contemplation. "You think I'm still as fast as I was back then?"
"Well, I'm not going to time you or anything," Finn grinned, and Kurt backed him up against the door before tugging his shorts and underwear down.
"Quiet now," Kurt said before sinking to his knees and taking Finn in his mouth. Finn stifled his groan against the side of one hand, bracing himself against the wall with the other.
"I can do that," he whispered, gazing down at Kurt. "You give me just what I need, baby."
Kurt just opened his throat and took Finn as deep as he could, working his tongue around and around until Finn gripped his hair and tugged.
"Fuck, Kurt. Just . . . let me . . ." Finn was on the edge of incoherent, and Kurt knew exactly what Finn needed. He kept his head still against the firm pressure of Finn's hands and let Finn fuck his mouth. They'd done this so many times, but it never stopped amazing Kurt how much power he had over Finn when he was on his knees like this. It was heady and intense, because he knew he was giving Finn something he needed and wanted so desperately, but it gave Kurt what he needed in return, too.
He smiled around Finn's cock when Finn gasped, because he knew what it meant, knew that Finn was on the edge. He sucked just a little harder, and that was all Finn needed before he was coming hard down Kurt's throat.
"Oh, man," Finn let his head fall back against the door with a light thunk. "You're so good at that."
Kurt leaned his head against Finn's leg, smiling. "I considered stopping at the end, there," he said, "and not letting you come."
"Not letting me, huh?" Finn laughed, surprised. "I'm wondering what could have stopped me."
"Oh, I don't know." Kurt brushed a hand over Finn's bare stomach. "I could have done it, but I figured that would be a little mean." He dug his nails into the skin under his navel, feeling Finn tense. "And I bet you'll come again after I fuck you in the shower."
Finn groaned, then laughed and tugged his t-shirt over his head. "Race you there," he said.
Kurt couldn't resist reaching out and letting a light smack fall on Finn's bare ass as he scooted past. "Do I need to call Carl and tell him you're being a brat?" Kurt teased, and Finn turned to him with a grin on his face.
"No, sir," he replied with a wink.
0M0
Mike didn't even get to the elevator before he was dialing Tina's number. She was speed dial #1, but even so, he had her number memorized. There was nobody like Tina in Mike's life.
And here I am, having stupid dreams about guys. He shook his head, nibbling on his thumbnail, feeling far too unworthy to be calling his girlfriend with those thoughts in his head. But she answered, and he didn't hang up.
"Mike? I didn't think I'd hear from you yet. How's B-W?" Tina sounded happy to hear from him, and more than a little puzzled.
"Tina," he said, already feeling the tears lurking just behind the word, and he stopped and swallowed before going on. "It's great. I can tell I'm going to learn a lot, but... I just... I miss you."
"I miss you, too." She giggled. "I almost called Rachel today, just to have someone to talk to, but I don't really like her well enough to actually go through with it. I can't wait to go to camp next week."
Mike slipped into the elevator, nodding at a group of girls as they made their way down the hall. "I'm sure it'll be great, too. You'll have to tell me about your roommate. Uh... we're tripling up here, because of a burst pipe or something... I'm staying with Kurt and Finn."
"Really?" He could have sworn that Tina almost choked on her words, but if she did, she recovered quickly. "How's that going?"
"Really. And they're being really... good. I mean, you know about them, and... I think they decided to use this summer as a chance to be... out, together? But, uh, they've been polite about not doing stuff in front of me." He coughed. "Mostly."
"What, did you walk in on them kissing or something?"
Mike sighed as he leaned his head on the wall of the elevator. "Not exactly. They... in the middle of the night, when they thought I was asleep..."
"Oh!" Tina giggled again. "Was it . . . um. That must have been . . ."
Mike could have filled in that space with all kinds of words, but he was nearly frantic to hear what she was going to say. "What? It must have been what?"
"Hot," Tina whispered into the phone.
"Yeah," Mike blurted, before he could stop himself. "Wait, what?"
"Guys together is hot," Tina said again, a little louder. Mike watched the numbers blink down until the elevator settled on the first floor and the doors opened on a large group of kids waiting to get on.
"Hey, Mike," said one of the girls. "Are you okay? You look kind of flushed."
Mike pointed at his phone. Girlfriend, he mouthed, and the girl nodded and smiled at him. The boy next to her gave him a thumbs up, and he pressed through the crowd to get outside as fast as he could. It was almost dark, and the night was warm and sticky.
"You really think so?" he murmured, his hand cupped over his phone.
"Oh, yeah," she sighed. He suddenly realized he had to sit down before he fell over. He stumbled over to a stone bench by the sidewalk, sinking down, his knees shaking.
"That's kind of... well, a relief, I guess. And maybe it makes me feel not so guilty about... how I feel. Because it's been on my mind." He rubbed his forehead. "A lot."
"Oh, Mike..." She sighed. "I was hoping you wouldn't be worried about that. They're just feelings, right? You can't do anything about your feelings."
Mike heaved a sigh, and shook his head even though Tina couldn't see him. "I could," he said, not quite believing that he was even admitting it out loud. "I mean, some of my feelings are sleeping two beds down from me every night."
"You... oh." Tina didn't respond for a moment. "You like... Finn? Kurt?" She dropped to a whisper. "Both of them?"
"Maybe. I don't know." Mike hoped his answers were good enough and Tina wasn't going to ask him to spell anything out. He honestly wasn't sure he could, even if he wanted to.
"Well... you know what I said, before you left. I still feel like what happens at music camp can stay at music camp. But... Mike, Finn and Kurt, they're kind of... coming home with you."
"I'm not going to do anything. I just..." He sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. "I'm just confused, and a little embarrassed. They're my friends and roommates. And it isn't like they don't have enough people in their relationship already. Why would either of them be interested in me?"
Tina's laugh made him feel so homesick, he just had to hug himself and shiver for a minute. "God, really? Baby. Come on. Be serious. Do you want me to name the many, many reasons why they should be completely hot for you? I mean, maybe they didn't think you were sleeping the other night. Maybe that was all for you."
"No," Mike said. "No, I'm sure they thought I was sleeping, because Kurt said that they couldn't do that every night in case I heard. They really don't want to make me uncomfortable." He smiled a little at the thought of it. "They're being so nice."
"They're good guys," Tina said, and was quiet for a moment. "They wouldn't hurt you, you know. If you wanted to... explore things. With them."
Mike wasn't sure what Tina was telling him, exactly. "Do I . . . are you saying I have your permission to, um. With them?"
She laughed again, and this time it was low and sexy and made him miss her in all different ways. "I kind of can't believe I'm saying this, but... sure. I trust Kurt as much as I trust anyone, and Finn - if you like him, then... well, I guess that's up to you and him. I can't promise I wouldn't be a little jealous, though."
"Oh," he said unhappily. "I don't want you to feel like that. I love you. This... whatever it is I'm feeling about them, it's just... it's not what we have. At all."
"I know." She sounded confident and calm. He relaxed a little. "But I also know I'm not a guy. Whatever you want from guys, I think I'd feel best about you exploring it with our friends."
"Really?" Mike didn't fully understand how Tina could be okay with it at all. He wasn't even sure he was okay with it.
"Yeah, I think so. Maybe it'd help me feel a little less left out." Her voice became sly. "So the other night, when they were sure you were sleeping. Did you... do anything about it?"
Mike choked, and felt the burn of a blush stinging his neck and ears. "No!" he said.
"Really?" Tina's voice was light and teasing.
"Well." He thought about his shower the following morning, about the heat of the water pounding on his back while he... his blush intensified. "I went back to sleep, but a dream woke me up."
"Tell me," she demanded.
Mike swallowed and glanced around him to make sure nobody could hear. "It wasn't anything specific, really. Just, um. Hands? And there were two people." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "Touching me."
"So what did you do?"
"God, Tina!"
"Miiiike," she teased. "I won't tell anyone. And it's perfectly normal, you know. Girls do it, too."
Mike hung his head. "I so didn't need to know that."
"Oh, my god. How is it that we have awesome sex and you still can't even talk about it?"
"Because talking is . . . talking. And you know I'm not really good at that."
"Yeah," Tina said. Mike thought about what she'd told him, when they were curled together in her bed after their first time, about being so shy and afraid that she'd actually faked a stutter. She understood him in a way nobody ever had, before, and he didn't want to hurt her.
"I can't," he said. "Please don't make me tell you."
"How about . . ." she trailed off, sounding like she was thinking really hard. "How about I tell you what I think you did?"
Mike was completely speechless. Tina apparently took this as an affirmative, because her words began, slow and hypnotic, like she was telling a spooky ghost story.
"I bet you wore your boxers to bed. And when you woke up from your dream, you were... hard. Weren't you?"
He gripped the stone bench with his free hand and his phone with the other, feeling his traitorous body respond to her words. "Tina," he whispered.
"And you got out of bed really quietly, so nobody would hear you or see you, and you tiptoed into the bathroom. You turned on the shower, waited for it to get hot."
"Yeah," he said, not sure how she knew him so well. Was he that transparent, that predictable?
"Then you got in, under the water, leaving your boxers on the floor of the bathroom." Her sigh got in under his skin and made him feel prickly all over. "Sorry... just caught up in thinking about you naked."
"It's, um, okay," he squeaked. He shifted on the bench, curled his toes to try and ease some of the tension rolling through him.
"And I've never actually seen you do this, but... well, you're a guy, so... I bet you put your hand on yourself, and... stroked."
The word caused an embarrassingly strong reaction in the anatomy in question, and Mike hunched over, hoping nobody would notice.
"Yeah," Mike said. Tina was being so brazen, talking like that with him, and he felt like he should give her a little something back. "I did. It, um. Didn't take long." Oh, god, he thought. Did I really just say that?
"I bet," she said, laughing. "I've heard Quinn talk about how Finn used to have this problem... finishing too quickly, I guess. I wonder if it's the same when he's with Kurt. But you don't have that. At least you haven't with me."
Mike felt his heartbeat speed up, and he was suddenly nervous and uncomfortable. "You know that I love you, right? I mean, just because I . . . did that . . . it doesn't mean I don't love you, because I do. I just . . ."
"I know," Tina said. "I know you're confused. That's okay. And I love you, so I need to let you figure yourself out. You need to try things out so you can understand what's going on for you. Just... promise me one thing?"
Mike felt like he didn't deserve Tina's kindness or understanding. "Anything," he said.
"At the end of all of this, come home to me." She sounded young and vulnerable, and so different from the girl who'd just been talking about sex with him.
"Of course. Yes." He wished he could hold her hand and look into her eyes, so she could know he meant it. "I'm coming home in a month. To you."
Saying goodbye was easier than he'd expected, because Tina had quelled some of his worst fears. And, really, after that conversation, his thoughts were almost entirely on what had happened in that shower. When they'd both hung up, he slipped his phone into his pocket and made his way back into the dorm. He really wanted to get ready for bed and then just think about things.
He didn't knock or anything when he got back to the room, because like Finn had promised, there was no sock on the door. But the room was empty, and Mike was puzzled until he heard water running in the bathroom.
Water running, and two voices.
"Oh, fuck, Kurt!" Finn's words were almost guttural, and something coiled full of wanting in Mike's belly.
"That's right," Kurt said, sounding patient and encouraging as always, but there was a tension there that ratcheted up the heat in the room. Mike found himself leaning on the door, one ear resting on the wood, his hands on his thighs. I shouldn't. They don't know I'm here. But he didn't move away. "You're taking it, sweetheart... what I've got for you, you need it. God, you look so hot like that. A little more, now... come on, take it..."
Mike felt his hands drifting toward his stomach, his feelings of guilt completely overridden by the sounds of Kurt, doing... things... to Finn in the shower. The pictures in his head were cloudy, but the sensations were crystal clear, and Mike gripped himself as he heard Finn groan louder.
Tina said all guys do it, he thought. And he'd definitely heard guys talking about it in the locker room. And it wasn't like he'd never... but always in the privacy of his own bathroom, or sometimes at night in bed, when nobody was around. Never in a room with two other guys having loud, graphic sex on the other side of a thin door.
"Yeah, that's it," Kurt urged. "Keep your hands up there on the wall. I'll take care of you."
The thought of Kurt taking care of Finn - and Mike had several very detailed memories of Finn, naked and wet from the shower, courtesy of football practices and gym class, to draw on here - was almost more than he could handle. He slipped his hand inside his shorts and wrapped his hand around his cock, already hard and leaking. I can't believe I'm - was about all he had time for before he heard Kurt let out a devastating moan, and he was spilling over his own fist.
"Oh god, Kurt, fuck, that's - yeah, like that, god, I'm coming -" Finn's own finish was a tight, desperate whine, and Mike felt his legs go weak, hearing their tandem sounds, the rhythm of their heavy breathing over the shower. He was pretty sure he'd never be able to erase those words from his memory. He was torn between escaping back to his own bed to change before they came out of the shower, and staying to hear the end, but Kurt's finish wasn't long behind Finn's.
Kurt's next words were more confusing, but not any less powerful, and Mike shook his head as he heard him say, "Am I a good boy?"
"God. Yes." Finn was laughing, and the water shut off. "You're so good. And I needed that so much."
Mike decided there was no way he could stand there in sticky shorts and look Kurt in the eye, so he moved as quickly as he could, stripping off his boxers and digging another pair out of his drawer. By the time he was dressed again, Finn and Kurt were still drying off, talking and laughing in the bathroom. He cleared his throat, and heard them go quiet.
"Hey, guys," he called. "Just wanted you to know... I'm here."
"Thanks," they chorused, and he heard Kurt giggle. The door opened, and Finn stepped out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist. It wasn't any different from the other times Mike had seen him like that, but... of course, it completely was. I just heard you get something I never imagined you'd want, he thought about saying. From Kurt. And you seemed to really like it.
Finn looked sheepish. "Sorry, man," he said. "I don't know how much you heard, but..."
"Some," Mike said, staring at his hands. He made himself smile back at Finn. "Kind of a lot."
Finn chuckled, and a light blush spread across his face. "Uh, yeah. Well... if you have any questions, or anything, I'm happy to talk about it. 'Cause I remember how confusing it all was for me, even with Kurt to... talk to."
Mike didn't think he'd ever, ever be able to ask Finn questions about what he'd just heard. But then he thought about Tina, saying whatever you want from guys, I think I'd feel best about you exploring it with our friends.
"You and Kurt?" he said, looking up. "You guys were... together, first? I thought you and Puck..."
Finn's expression grew distant. "Well, Kurt helped me figure out my feelings about guys, before I knew Puck even wanted that from me. And we became friends, and kind of... messed around, I guess. We weren't dating, but it was more than just casual sex. I fell in love with him."
Finn's words were so casual, so straightforward, that Mike found himself relaxing. "Wow. But Kurt, he knew you were... uh, having feelings for Puck?"
"Yeah." Finn turned as Kurt came out of the bathroom in his robe, and reached out his hand. "Baby, come here."
Kurt's face was red, but he did as Finn asked, slipping an arm around his waist and leaning against his shoulder as he smiled at Mike. "I'm really embarrassed," he admitted.
"Hey, at least you waited until I was out of the room this time," Mike said, and Kurt buried his face in Finn's chest.
"I knew you were awake," he groaned.
Mike watched the two of them together, standing so close, being so comfortable with one another. He thought of Kurt and Puck at school, how they seldom touched outside of Glee, even though they'd been out for so long, and how tentative Blaine was to be close with Kurt at all, even though everyone knew about their relationship, too.
"It's good," said Mike. "I mean... to see you guys together. Because you deserve it." He reached out and touched Kurt's wrist, and Kurt took his hand, looking at it in surprise. Then he smiled.
"Thank you." Kurt stretched his arms over his head, and Mike heard his vertebrae cracking lightly as he groaned. "Oh, much better." Mike laughed.
"You should have heard it, in ballet this morning," he said, steadfastly keeping his eyes off Finn as he got dressed. "We all did our grand pliés and the whole room was nothing but joints popping."
Kurt nodded. "Yeah, in my class too. Hey." He rested his hand on Mike's shoulder. "You okay?"
"Yeah." Mike tried to smile, but he felt overwhelmed and unsure. Part of him just wanted to crawl into bed and hide, but after Kurt had said honesty, there was no way he could hide this. "Okay, no."
"I'm sorry," Kurt said unhappily. He glanced at the bathroom. "We honestly thought we'd be done before you got back."
"It's your room too," Mike said, his cheeks burning. "You don't have to apologize."
Kurt squeezed his shoulder gently, and moved in close. "It's our room. And I always want you to tell me if anything Finn or I do makes you uncomfortable."
"Okay," he said. He wasn't sure how he could say that everything made him a little uncomfortable, but knew he didn't want Kurt or Finn to stop being themselves. And he definitely couldn't say how much he'd enjoyed listening to them in the bathroom.
"You're tired," Kurt observed, rubbing his thumb gently over Mike's collarbone. "You need sleep. Everything else can wait till tomorrow, okay?"
Mike blinked at Kurt. Finn was just sitting on his bed, watching them placidly. "Okay," he said again. He wasn't really sure what was happening, why he was letting Kurt manage him without argument like that.
"Go take your shower," Kurt inclined his head toward the bathroom.
"And then what?" Mike couldn't help asking. "Are you going to tuck me in or something?"
Kurt just smiled at him. "Or something."
Mike didn't mean to hurry his shower, but his pulse was so light and quick in his throat at the thought of the something that he washed in what felt like seconds. He tugged on clean boxers and a t-shirt while he was still wet. The cotton stuck to his skin, but he didn't care. He brushed his teeth and finger-combed his hair, and padded back into the room to find Finn and Kurt talking in whispers on Finn's bed, Kurt curled up in the crook of Finn's body.
They both looked up at Mike, and Kurt greeted him with a smile. "Better?"
"Much," Mike said, moving toward his bed.
Kurt shook his head, and patted the space next to him on Finn's mattress. "Come here."
Mike went over and sat, still not sure why he was following Kurt's instructions without questioning them, but when he paused to think about it, he realized he'd stopped feeling anxious.
Kurt put a hand on Mike's knee. It was soft, and warm, and Mike relaxed. It just felt safe.
"We've talked it over, Mike," said Kurt, "and Finn and I can help you, if you want. As much as you're comfortable with."
"What if..." Mike felt his voice edge into a whine. "What if I don't know what I want? Or what I'm comfortable with?"
Kurt levelled him with a steady gaze. "That's okay, too." He shifted so that he was close to Mike, and his breath was hot against Mike's cheek. "How about we start with... this?" He felt Kurt's hand resting on the back of his neck, pulling them together, and then Kurt was kissing him.
It was different from kissing Tina, or even from kissing Finn that day in the bathroom. Mike could almost hear Kurt's voice telling him it's okay and you can want this, you're safe here. Kurt's lips were firm and insistent, and Mike opened his mouth under the pressure. He heard himself moan when Kurt's tongue flicked against his bottom lip and slid into his mouth, because it felt so good.
He heard Finn's breath speed up, and reached out instinctively, craving the pressure of Kurt's body against his, but Kurt was pulling away with a light laugh.
"Slow down," Kurt said. "We have three more weeks to decide what's next, if anything."
"Okay," Mike said, staring at Kurt's lips. They'd just touched his, and he wasn't freaking out. "I think... I don't know what else, but... I'm pretty sure I want more of that."
Finn's free arm reached around him and gave him a half-hug. Mike felt Finn's kiss on his cheek. "That's cool," he whispered, and the sensation of his voice, so close to his skin, made Mike shiver. "Anytime."
Mike turned his head to face Finn abruptly, feeling Kurt's startled eyes on them, and breathed a few tentative breaths into Finn's mouth before Finn kissed him. The fear was unexpectedly less with Kurt there, and he let himself lean into the kiss for several delicious beats. He thought, randomly, that it had probably been a good thing that he'd done... that, while they'd been in the shower, or else he would be really embarrassing himself right now.
Finn's eyes were glassy and his pupils dilated when Mike sat back, leaning against the support of Kurt's body. "Uh," Finn said. "Wow. You're a really good kisser."
"Really?" Mike said, laughing, because Tina had told him the same thing, but he hadn't really believed her. But Finn, he'd kissed everybody at school, so Mike figured he should know. "You think so?"
"Mmmm," said Kurt, licking his lips. "The two of you are delicious. But Mike and I have studio class in the morning, and it's getting late." He gave Mike a little nudge. "Go on, or I really will tuck you into bed."
"Kurt," Mike protested, but then he was arrested by Finn's smile, and felt drawn toward him again.
"You think he's kidding," Finn murmured. He kissed Mike one more time. "He's not."
What are you guys doing to me? Mike wanted to ask, but he was almost afraid of the answer. So he unfolded himself from their collective embrace and stood, stumbling over to his bed and pulling up the blanket over himself. He wondered what it might feel like if Kurt really did tuck him in... but he didn't go there. Instead, he waited under his covers for Kurt to kiss Finn goodnight, then Kurt switched off the light and said into the darkness, "Sleep well, sweetheart."
"You too, baby," said Finn. There was a long pause. "Mike?"
"Yeah," he said, his voice coming out unexpectedly hoarse.
"We might... wake up in the middle of the night, again," he said. "Probably not tonight, but... sometime. Me and Kurt, we might want to do some of that same stuff we were doing in the shower."
Mike was holding his breath, and he let it out before saying, "Okay."
"So I just wanted to know if that would bother you? 'Cause if it does, we'll wait until during the day, and... the sock. But if it doesn't..." He trailed off.
"It... doesn't," Mike settled on, finally.
"Okay," said Finn. "And it's okay, if you want to listen."
"Oh," Mike whispered. "Uh..."
"Go to sleep, boys," said Kurt severely, and there weren't any more words after that.
But Mike woke in the middle of the night from another vivid, confusing dream, this one definitely involving both Finn and Kurt and their mouths, not kissing, but doing other things, and he didn't even bother to get out of bed this time. He just groped under the covers for his cock and stroked furiously until he gasped, hearing Finn's voice echoing in his head: Oh god, Kurt, fuck, that's - yeah, like that, god, I'm coming...
"You okay, Mike?" said Kurt's melodic voice.
Mike lay panting in the dark. Oh, god, Kurt, he heard again in his memory.
"I think so?" he said, sounding only a little hysterical.
He heard Kurt shift in his bed, get out from under his covers, and pad barefoot across the floor to Mike's. "Move over," he said, and Mike scooted to the side, hastily wiping his sticky hand on his sheets. Kurt sat down next to him. His pajamas were made of some smooth, slippery fabric, and Mike could feel the buttons against his bare arm. "I'm going to lie behind you, and put my arms around you, and you're going to go back to sleep."
"Okay," Mike said. He rolled over to one side, facing away from Kurt. Kurt pulled the covers up to their shoulders before wrapping one arm over and tucking both legs behind Mike.
"Shhhh," he said, a noise Mike hadn't heard since he was a kid, and kissed his ear. "Go to sleep, sweetheart."
Mike didn't even think about Kurt's presence behind him, or his own rear end, pressed up against some very intimate places on Kurt's body. He just closed his eyes and breathed, and soon he was asleep.
0M0
Mike woke early again, when the rose light of sunrise was peeking under the blinds. Kurt was still tucked around him, warm and breathing softly on the back of Mike's neck. He slipped out from under Kurt's arm, careful not to wake him, and made a quick detour to the bathroom to clean up before changing into shorts and a t-shirt. He stuffed his feet into his sneakers and headed out into the hall. He didn't think he needed to dance, but he needed to do something, and the familiar rhythm of running felt appealing.
The halls were quiet, but when the elevator opened into the lobby, he saw the African American counselor Kurt had been talking to the first day.
"Hey," Mike nodded at him.
"You're up early," the guy said. "Aren't you Kurt's friend?"
"Yeah," Mike said. "I'm Mike."
"Darius," the guy said, holding out his hand to shake Mike's. "I did a show with Will, Toby, Kurt and Blaine last summer. Toby tells me you're a hell of a dancer."
Mike threw his head back and groaned lightly. "Sometimes I feel like I don't even know my friends at all."
"Why's that?"
Mike shook his head. "God. It's like, the people I know from home are so different here, and I think I'm different here, too, and it's only been three days. What am I going to look like in a month?"
"Different how?" Darius cocked his head and peered at Mike curiously.
"Just . . ." Mike waved his hand in the air. "Toby, inviting me to help him teach his baby ballet class. And Kurt is like, super confident, and he and Finn . . ." He didn't even know what to call what had happened last night. Not just the kissing, but Kurt making sure he was okay and going back to sleep.
"Were you headin' out for a run?" Darius eyeballed Mike's sneakers.
"Yeah," Mike said. "Dancing here is fine, but I need to keep up the running for football. We're reigning district champs."
"I'm not a runner," Darius said, "but I'll jog with you a bit, if you want." He glanced around the empty lobby. "I know it's early, but the walls in this place have ears and gossip'll spread faster than you can run on your best day."
"No offense," Mike said with a shake of his head, "but I'm not sure I'm in a mood to talk right now."
Darius shrugged. "I get that." He nodded toward the doors leading to the corridor off the lobby where the youngest campers were housed. "I'm just down at the end, in 115, if you ever need anything. And I'm always up early."
"Thanks, I guess," Mike said. He was itching to get out into the morning and lose himself in the rhythm of his sneakers on the pavement.
"Whatever's going on, it'll all work out in the end," Darius said with what was probably meant to be an encouraging smile. Mike just grimaced, because he wasn't sure how he felt about Darius knowing his business, even if the guy was friends with Kurt.
Mike shrugged at him. "If you say so."
"Hey," Darius said with a gentle, friendly bump to Mike's shoulder. "I'm the grownup. I know so." He nodded at the door. "You take your run. And make sure to eat breakfast if you've got class this morning."
Mike beat feet to the door before he could get dragged back into conversation, and wondered what was seriously up with all these people wanting to make sure he ate.