Disclaimer: I don't own Glee

A/N: sorry for the lateness! Life won over writing for now X.X

…

Chapter Fifteen

Mercedes the All Knowing

…

It was two days after Christmas, and despite the cheerful holiday he had with his 'family', Finn had a lot to think about. Most of which didn't put a smile on his face. He was lying in Sam's bed, the owner dozed off at the other end. He had been frequenting the blonde's home practically every day since vacation started, and though he initially thought their relationship would involve more sex than anything romantic, they hadn't done anything but exchange a few awkward kisses. Today was one of the rare occasions that he slept over, the only reason being that it snowed so badly last night that it was impossible for him to drive back home. He was surprised and a little guilty at the warm welcome Sam's parents gave him when the blond announced him as his boyfriend. With their accepting attitude, he could see why Sam was so cool with handling his problems. Finn knew he would have actually been happy to be with him except…

Finn still loved Kurt. And Sam still loved Mike.

Unlike that Friday afternoon in Santana's room, they knew what they wanted now, and being with someone they didn't hold much affection for only made them uncomfortable. So sex was quickly out of the question, and so was romance for that matter.

Finn let out a tiny sigh as he stared at the white ceiling dotted with plastic glow in the dark aliens. When he first came into Sam's room he was reminded of how dorky the blond could be about science fiction. He had a whole shelf of dvd's dedicated to alien movies and random sci-fi thrillers. His desk was littered with action figures from Avatar, and he even owned a book on how to speak Na'vi. Finn was struck by how childish the teen's room looked, and had to quickly remind himself that his wasn't any better either. His power rangers action figures still littered his room, and he still slept in sheets decorated with little cowboys.

He glanced at the sleeping blond, wondering how easily he seemed to be handling their relationship. He was handling everything better than him. Finn envied him. He wished he could be more like the blond, to take everything thrown at him and roll with it. Finn wasn't like that, every time something new and frightening hit him, he'd freak out.

Finn shut his eyes, going back to staying behind at the auditorium and pulling out a Billie Holiday. He'd been so into the song that he didn't realize he had an audience until he felt her eyes burning into the back of his head.

Rachel had forgotten her bag and returned to retrieve it. Finn had no idea how long she'd been standing there, but it must have been a while because she looked crestfallen and guilty. Embarrassed beyond belief, Finn tried coming up with an excuse, but she knew why he was singing, and who he was singing about.

"You…you really love him. Don't you?" she asked in a tiny voice.

After everything that happened between them. The hurt and jealousy he felt for her happiness, and the frustration of never being able to have anything with the one he truly wanted, Finn couldn't deny it. Everything was already messed up, one little thing wasn't going to make it any worse.

"Yeah," his voice cracked quietly.

He wasn't sure how, but she started spewing out that she always had a feeling, but was too afraid to say anything. Even when they were together she would notice him looking at Kurt the way he used to look at her. She wasn't as angry as she'd thought she'd be, only hurt, and sad…and terribly lonely. Finn figured that's when Quinn stepped in. He couldn't muster up any anger though. The more he talked to Rachel, the more it became apparent to him how much he missed her batty advice, and the simple pleasure of just talking to her. This was what he needed, someone to confide in, someone who really knew him, who loved him for who he was and didn't judge him. Sam was all right, but he wasn't Rachel. Sam had his own problems to deal with too.

Rachel was…she was the friend he needed to help him get through this.

It was kind of messed up and ironic that this was the same person who cheated on him with his ex.

This fact didn't get past the brunette either. Her apologies were squeezed into every other sentence that came out of her mouth.

"Then why didn't you just break up with me as soon as you realized you liked Quinn more than me?" he asked her.

"Because," she fumbled nervously with the arm strap of her bag, "I was afraid…you were trying so hard to keep us together, that I kept losing the courage to tell you. I didn't want to hurt you."

"You still did."

"…I know." The pain in her eyes expressed the deep guilt she felt over the whole thing. Finn started feeling guilty too. It was ridiculous to keep bringing up old wounds, especially now that he honestly felt nothing but companionship toward her. "So don't make the same mistake with Sam."

"What?"

A bitter smile fluttered at the corners of her lips. "You don't love him, but you're with him. You stopped loving me, but you stuck with me," she shrugged lightly, "you're only setting yourself up to get hurt again. Just tell Kurt the truth," her eyes softened, "tell him you love him."

For some reason, when Rachel said it, it gave Finn hope that maybe Kurt felt the same for him, but when he arrived home with a battle plan on how to tell him, he was met with his first obstacle.

Burt Hummel.

Then his second obstacle.

Carole Hudson.

Both who still didn't know he was gay. Well, Burt might have an idea, and that only made it worse. Finn wasn't sure what to do first, tell his mother and her boyfriend the truth, or go and confess to Kurt. If he told his mother, Burt would get protective over his son, if he told Kurt he loved him, Burt would still get all papa bear on him.

As he contemplated his options, Finn was hit with a fast one.

"I broke up with Puck," Kurt said airily, standing by the frame of the door to his room with his arms haughtily crossed, "hope that makes you happy."

And for a second, it did. That made Finn's chances greater. With that one obstacle erased, there was still hope that maybe...just maybe, he could be with Kurt. With his courage boosted, Finn was ready to spill his guts out except Kurt wasn't finished.

"I hadn't meant to be with him to hurt you," somehow, the way Kurt said that made Finn think the opposite, "I know you two aren't the greatest friends, so…I decided to end it, took me a while, but that's that, we're done, you can rest easy."

"But why did you even think of going out with him?" he had to know, "dude, you've seen what he did to me, how could you even consider – "

"Because he was interested in me!" Kurt snapped, turning red, "how many boys in McKinley - in Ohio - are going show any kind of interest in me? A guy? A freaking," he gestured wildly with his hands, "homosexual!"

Me. He wanted to say it. It was the perfect opening for him to tell it to him. Now that he thought back on it, he was only more furious with himself. It was the perfect opportunity and he blew it, because he was still sore over Puck, and Kurt's betrayal really hurt.

So instead of said 'me! I love you!' he said, "That's no excuse! If Puck did what he did to me to Mercedes, would you have dated him?"

Kurt shuffled uncomfortably, avoiding eye contact. "No, I – "

"Then why!" he exploded. Kurt flinched, but now he was pissed too. He didn't like getting yelled at.

"Because I thought you were in love with me, okay!" he yelled back, uncrossing his arms irritably. All the anger burning in Finn was quickly snuffed out. He was so shaken by the other boy's exclamation that he stumbled back a step and couldn't find his voice to reply. Still fuming, Kurt's hands balled into fists at his sides, cheeks tinged pink in anger and embarrassment. "You've been acting so weird, especially around me, that I thought you had a crush on me. I went out with Puck so you'd feel how much you hurt me last year, there! I said it!," he huffed, looking away to compose himself, running a hand nervously through his hair, "I was angry, okay? I wasn't thinking, I just wanted revenge." He sighed, his sudden rage diminishing as well, "Look, from the start it was a bad idea with ill intentions," he sighed again, "I'm sorry."

"But," he cleared his through, excitement welling up in his gut, "does that mean you – "

"No." It was flat, short, and final, crushing all of Finn's hopes. "I don't like you that way anymore – and I don't intend on reviving those feelings," his face was set determined, Finn didn't doubt his words. "Besides, after living with you for…what, almost two months? I see you more like a brother," he smiled wryly, "anyway, sorry about Puck, I'll never do it again, blah blah blah, you have my word."

And with that, he sauntered away, leaving Finn no room to tell him his suspicions were right. He no longer had the courage to, he saw it Kurt's face. He. Did. Not. Love. Him. He told him plain and straight. There was no hope in having anything with him except a brotherly bond. What was the point anyway? If he told him now, it would only make things awkward at home. Burt would be on his case every other second too.

So Finn decided to keep quiet. And now here he was in a room fit for a nine year old with his 'boyfriend' sleeping next to him, and himself feeling so miserable even an all you can eat buffet wouldn't be enough to cheer him up. It was bad enough before to know that Kurt felt nothing for him, but now that he flat out rejected him, he felt like he had nothing. Even with Sam and their agreement to pretend, he had nothing.

Pretending was even worse than nothing. Every time he had Sam in his arms, it only made Finn want Kurt more. Every time they kissed, the more he yearned for Kurt. It wasn't fair the way things were going. That he was too late in realizing his feelings. He felt like a spoiled brat who didn't play with a certain toy, but gets upset when it's taken away. It only served to make him feel more disgusted with himself. This wasn't how things were supposed to be.

Rachel and Quinn cheated on him, but they got their happy ending, why couldn't he? Was he such a terrible person that he didn't deserve one?

Sam stirred beside him, stretching out languidly with a content hum. If Finn didn't know any better, he would have guessed the blond was related to a cat. Blue eyes blinked up at him blearily, followed by a chocked laugh when he realized he wasn't alone in bed.

"Forgot you were sleepin' over," he mumbled, sitting up with a yawn, "didn't like the mattress?"

Finn shrugged, throwing a glance to the twin sized mattress lying next to the bed. He insisted on taking it after Sam offered him the bed. Of course, this was before he realized how uncomfortable the mattress was, and in the end he found himself crawling back up Sam's bed in the dead of night.

"Game day," the blond said to no one, lying back down, not quite ready to give up sleep yet.

Finn nodded. Before leaving for break, Artie and Sam had gotten themselves into an epic war on Halo. It got to the point where the group decided to meet about every other day to see how far the two would go. So far Artie was beating him by a slight margin. After that it would be a chance to test out Artie's Beatles Rock Band his crazy uncle got him for Christmas.

"We should get breakfast," Sam said, making no effort to move.

"Yep," Finn nodded, also unwilling to move.

…

The streets were piled with six feet of snow since the storm from last night. There was barely anyone out to shovel it or at least toss some salt, but somehow, miraculously, and unluckily for Mercedes, Kurt managed to pull out his Navigator and drive to her house all to just sit on her bed and mope. She knew it was coming, but for her slightly misguided friend to go through such a huge blockade of snow just to see her, she was a little flabbergasted.

The boy knew how to drive, that's for sure.

"I broke up with Puck," he said after several minutes of silence. Half his face was squashed in one of her fluffiest light blue pillows. There was going to be a hole in it by the end of his visit, she knew it.

"I know," she replied.

"And I told Finn."

"I know."

A pause.

"I told him the truth…about why I did it."

"I know."

Another pause. He threw her an irritated glare.

"He seemed fine with it…he's dating Sam now."

"I know."

"Would you stop that!" he sat up abruptly, his squashed hair sticking up erratically. Mercedes fought hard not to laugh. "I'm spilling my guts here, and all you can say is 'I know'," he huffed, crossing his arms childishly.

"Honey, you told me all this ten million times for like the past three days," she got up from her desk chair and joined him in the bed, tossing and arm around his shoulders and pulling him close, "and I don't care how much you deny it, you're not over him."

"Mercedes – "

"And you wouldn't be here looking like someone stole your favorite McQueen jacket if you were," she pressed on. At this, Kurt slumped against her.

"But I'm over him," he insisted weakly, looking more confused with himself, "I really don't feel anything around him. He's just there," he shook his head and put his hands over his face, "why is this frustrating me more than it should?"

"Because you still like him," Mercedes deadpanned, earning her another glare. "Boy, listen. Would anyone go out with someone to make another jealous out of revenge? Or tell their best friend six billion times that that someone's going out with someone else and they were wrong all along? And they were angry?"

Kurt opened and closed his mouth smartly, trying to come up with an excuse. His best friend looked back at him smugly, knowing she had him cornered. "But…I…"

"If you don't like him that way, why were you so set on revenge?"

"I…" he huffed angrily, a small growl of frustration crawling out his throat. "Okay fine! Say I do still have feelings for him, how do I fix it?" he asked grudgingly, "I'm not up for another rejection."

Mercedes smirked secretively, "I don't think you'll get rejected this time."

He gave her a dull look, pulling away from her slightly, "hun, I believe we've been over this before. He likes Sam; he's going out with Sam. That pretty much spells rejection to me."

Mercedes rolled her eyes. Her friend underestimated her observational skills. "Remember how Sam would always stare at Mike during glee club?"

"Yeah, but – "

"That hasn't stopped." Kurt was about to keep arguing, only to fall short in dawning realization. As pianist for the show they would be doing for February, Kurt had unintentionally gotten a full view of everyone during their rehearsals. He could tell who fucked up where, what placement changes needed to be made, and who was putting in more effort than the other.

So far the biggest fuck up was Finn, but being placed next to Sam, Kurt assumed the reason was obvious. However, in some songs where the two were separated, he noticed Sam screwing up more than before.

And usually during those times…Mike was nearby.

"Holy shit," he mumbled. Mercedes grinned triumphantly, "is Sam cheating on Finn! He'll be so devastated!"

Her face fell. Sighing, Mercedes smacked her forehead.

…

It started off fine, they settled into Artie's living room, his mother was in the kitchen preparing snacks, they were playing Mario Kart like it was no one's business since they decided they needed a break from Halo, and then, out of nowhere, Mike arrived.

Normally the dancer's presence wasn't that big a deal. Sam had been doing fine in when the other boy was around, mainly because he was so engrossed in beating the crap out of Artie or one uping him in kills. In all honesty, Finn hadn't thought much of Mike when he entered the living room until he noticed something was out of place.

Tina was missing.

Until very recently, Game Day was usually a day exclusively for the guys. It wasn't until Mike started going out with Tina that it was revealed the girl had a talent in a few games, and upon his insistence, she started frequenting their little meetings. It was weird at first, but after getting his ass kicked by the shy girl, Finn grudgingly welcomed her into their group. He was actually thinking of challenging her on a quick battle in Mortal Kombat today when Mike arrived.

Mike minus Tina was a rarity. Especially now, but aside from that, there was something even more wrong than the missing girl.

The dancer looked disheveled with his clothes all wrinkled and baggy on him. There was a disgruntled look on his face, muddled with a hint of guilt.

And there was a bright and painful looking hand mark on his cheek. Finn winced, that must have been quite the slap.

Artie glanced at the other boy briefly before returning to his game. "You look happy," he said not unkindly, "where's Tina – shit!" he bit his lip and attacked his controller, his character was a hair away from driving off the road after competitors up ahead threw him nasty traps.

"She's not coming," Mike said shortly, dumping himself on an empty couch.

"Oh," the bespectacled teen said distractedly, sticking his tongue out in concentration as he swerved his car expertly in order to regain first place again. "Parent's wouldn't let her come this time?"

"We broke up."

Sam's car crashed into a tree.

Artie was smarter. He paused the game and swerved around to gape at Mike, his glasses nearly slipping off his nose. "You guys what?"

The dancer shrugged nonchalantly, "we broke up."

No one said anything for a while. Mainly because they'd never seen their friend so unapproachable. They were almost afraid to ask. Finn made eye contact with Sam. The blond was easily the most curious of them all. He looked away, making a show of distracting himself by scratching the side of his head.

The tense silence was broken by Artie's mother entering with a tray of sandwiches. Despite his own burning curiosity, Finn's stomach growled at the tempting sight of cold cuts and lettuce tenderly sandwiched between soft white slices of bread. He grabbed one as soon as it touched the coffee table.

"I'll be back with the soda," Artie's mother said cheerfully, hurrying back into the kitchen.

Artie seemed to have regained his courage, because he went on to ask, "what happened?"

Mike shrugged again, staring blankly at his sandwich, "nothing. She was only interested in my abs anyway, so it's not like it's a big deal." The way he said that with no hint of emotion made Finn inch away from him, afraid that at any minute he would explode. "So who's winning?"

"Uh – er…I'm…I'm losing," Sam stammered before Artie could proudly say he was two seconds from winning the race, "I'm losing."

With Mike back on the market, Finn had to disagree. Sam was definitely winning.

…

Glee club was a group filled with an odd arrangement of people. Despite past enmities, they formed something of a family, even if certain select few could be total assholes. So it wasn't a surprise that everyone had each other's number's, and that when something huge came up, they'd text each other the news. Thus when Tina broke up with Mike, she ended up consoling in Mercedes, who would end up squealing to the first glee member on her list. By the end of the day, it would be pretty certain that almost everyone would get the news.

Sure enough, after getting out of a deliciously hot shower, and changing into his pajamas, Kurt found the text message blinking on the screen of his phone.

Tina and Mike called it quits. I told you so!

Kurt stared at the text as if it somehow held some hidden meaning. He slowly sank down on his bed, a million questions running through his head as he shakily typed a reply.

After making the assumption that Sam was cheating on Mike, Mercedes had corrected him in saying that it wasn't in the blond's character to cheat on anyone. She had simply made the observation that before Finn and Sam got together, Sam had shown interest in Mike, and earlier than that, the two were inseparable. At first she thought they had become best friends, what with them always laughing at inside jokes and horsing around like three year olds. Then for some reason they stopped.

A fight was the logical answer to why they parted ways. The only problem was that they didn't act like any two ex-friends would when in the presence of the other. Kurt wasn't sure how Mercedes noted all of this to herself, but the more she explained it to him, the more it made sense. Sam and Mike didn't want to end their friendship, something pulled them apart, and she was willing to bet it was Tina.

"But she's not the kind of person," Mercedes said excitedly, practically jumping on her bed, "she wouldn't force her boyfriend to break up a friendship – she was feeling threatened." Kurt was doubtful. "That's got to be it! If your man was starting to show interest in someone else, what would you do?"

"Slap him." Mercedes rolled her eyes exasperatedly, "okay fine, I see what you mean, what does Sam and Mike have to do with me?"

"Tina's not the type of girl who'd force a guy to stay with her, right?"

"Right," he nodded, still confused.

"What if Mike still likes Sam?" she asked slowly, hoping the cogs would start to turn in the other boy's head. "Actually, what if they both still like each other? Even Tina can't stop that, she'd let Mike go."

"And Mike and Sam can be together," Kurt finished. Mercedes nodded a little too enthusiastically. "Of course, there's the little fact that Sam's with Finn!"

"Honey," and she said it in such a way that made Kurt feel like he was missing the obvious, "I bet you my Prada pumps that they do not have the hots for each other."

That made Kurt pause and consider what she was saying. If Mercedes was betting on Prada, she was serious. The diva would never bet on those shoes unless she was one hundred percent sure she was correct.

Now one of her predictions had proven true. And on the same day too. Now Kurt had to test out whether her second theory was also true. He really didn't want to. His stomach was doing flip flops that were leaving him nauseous. Maybe he could tell her he tried out their plan and it didn't work, she'd never know if he was lying or not.

Then again. If Mercedes was smart enough to pull out an elaborate theory from just a few observations, it wouldn't take much for her to catch his lie and chose a more embarrassing route for him.

Plus. Those were some really nice pumps. If she was wrong, they were his, even if he'd probably never walk in them.

The phone vibrated in his hand. Speak of the devil. Reluctantly, Kurt answered. "Yes?" he drawled.

"Is he home?"

"No he's still at – " he was cut off at the muffled sound of the front door opening and closing followed by a tired, 'Hey mom,' and a return greeting from Carole. "Shit!" he bit his tongue, "no, he's not home!"

"Prada, Kurt, they could be yours."

Kurt swore under his breath, he hated being tempted like this. Mercedes knew him a little too well. "'Cedes please, I can't do this, it's embarrassing, I feel like I'm gonna puke."

Mercedes didn't reply immediately. Just as she rarely bet on Prada, he rarely used her nickname, and when he did it usually meant he was being sincere. Kurt was nervous, which only meant one thing.

"Kurt, you just proved I'm right. You're still into white boy."

"I. Am. Not!" he growled angrily, walking furiously from one end of his room to the other.

"And being nervous would be because…?"

"He's practically my brother!" Kurt exploded, "any normal person would be nauseous!"

"Okay how about this, think of it as an audition to some big Broadway production, you're the star – you wouldn't back down on a chance to demonstrate those acting skills would you?"

He gave a long suffering sigh. "Fine, but just so you know, those shoes are mine."

"Sure," she giggled.

Hanging up, he wandered over to his life sized mirror and looked over himself. Outside of home he was very conscious of how he looked. He would never leave home without going over his facial routines, making sure not a hair was out of place, and most importantly, that his attire was fabulous. Once inside the comforts of his room, though, he cared very little how he looked.

The pajamas he wore weren't exactly high end or from any big label. They were a little old and somewhat baggy on him, the only reason he kept them was because they were comfortable even if they did nothing for his figure. He wasn't sure how he came to acquire them, but they weren't one of his more flashy garments, just a simple gray thermal shirt and dark gray and blue plaid pants so old there were little cotton balls clinging to them. He did not look fabulous at all, in his opinion.

But Mercedes had said casual was best, and anything out of place would be too suspicious.

Self consciously tugging at the hem of his shirt, Kurt sighed again. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it with an Oscar worthy performance. He pulled off the towel that had been wrapped around his head and ruffled his hair giving him a flyaway look, or as Mercedes liked to put it, the morning after look.

Squaring his shoulders, he marched up the stairs, took a deep breath and opened the door.

Finn was in the kitchen making himself a snack, his back toward him. Kurt froze on the spot, his heart jumped in his throat.

He wasn't ready for that.

No. He mentally smacked himself out of his stupor. The shoes! Think of the shoes!

Rolling his shoulders and hopping from one foot to the other as if he were a boxer warming up before the bell went off, he entered the kitchen, making a note that Finn was standing in front of the cabinet that held the cups.

"Hey, how was Sam's?" he asked as casually as possible, opening the refrigerator and pulling out the orange juice. From the corner of his eye he could see the taller teen freeze for half a second.

"Fine," was the answer, leaving no room for continued conversation. That was fine. Kurt walked over to him and reached above to open the cabinet, making sure that he was close enough to feel the other's body heat against him. Finn stiffened, but made no attempt to move away.

Kurt's stomach flipped. Close. They were too close.

Couldn't Carole come in and interrupt them or something?

Swallowing his nerves, Kurt slowly decided which cup to grab. "Wasn't game day today?" Finn nodded jerkily, the crinkling noise of plastic filling the kitchen as he fumbled with opening his frozen hot pocket. "How was that?"

"Fine," he repeated, his voice cracking a little. Kurt almost dropped his chosen cup. He hadn't expected Finn's voice to vibrate against him like that. Everything he was doing was rolling over him like an electric blanket that put his nerves on end. Finn was still having trouble with the hot pocket. It was making Kurt even more anxious.

"Here," he reached out, not even thinking, and grabbed the offending frozen food, his hand closing over Finn's.

His hand burned, heat spreading up his arm and through his body like a wild fire. He hadn't felt this in a while. Biting the corner of his lip, Kurt waited for the other teen to jump away ten feet and accuse him of rape. It never came. Finn hadn't moved.

He was looking at him.

A little fearfully, Kurt looked up and locked eyes with him. His face was flushed red, confusion and something else written over his eyes. Kurt had never seen this before, and never up close like this. He could feel Finn's breath ghost over him softly. Any closer and they could be…

Shaking his head, Kurt shakily took the hot pocket and squeezed down the plastic, at first it didn't work, so he tried again a few more times until finally the frozen food broke through its prison. He blushed brightly, he hadn't meant for that to look dirty. He hoped Finn didn't catch the meaning of what he just did, and mentally strangled him for having to choose a phallic shaped snack.

"Thanks," Finn cleared his hoarse throat, accepting the hot pocket.

"Mhm," Kurt nodded, backing away quickly, knowing something stupid would happen if he stayed close to Finn any longer. Awkwardly, the tall teen hurried on to heat up his snack in the microwave. Not sure what else to do, Kurt went back to his room. His orange juice forgotten.

Shutting the door behind him and resting his back against it, Kurt took a deep calming breath. He felt it. The dreaded flip of his stomach. The swelling in his chest, tingling of where he and Finn touched, and…and were his hands clammy! ?

"Damnit," he mumbled helplessly, burying his face in his hands.