Author's note: Thank you, guys, for telling me that the last chapter didn't suck. Even though I don't agree with you, it still makes me feel a bit better. Sorry for keeping you waiting, but (as you may have realized) I had a minor writing crisis and once I got out of it, I sustained a neck injury which made me slightly incapable of… well, functioning. But the show must go on, as I'm sure Rachel would've said, so I've tucked myself into bed with my laptop to please my fellow perverted slashgirls. This is for you, sweethearts.

He tore his eyes away from Puck's quickly retreating back. Staring at his beautifully shaped behind would not help his case – the look Burt Hummel threw him told him just that. His hands trembled visibly as he forced his arms down the sleeves of the coverall, hurried on wobbly legs towards the hood to once again tend to the engine. Heavy footsteps approached him and he knew far too well what he had coming. Alright. Here it comes.

"So…"

He knew it.

"That boy."

"Puck."

"Yes… "Puck"… Is there something going on between you two which I should know about?"

Kurt nearly choked on his own tongue, furiously shaking his head. Burt offered him a helpful pat on the back.

"No! Don't be silly. There is definitely nothing going on between Puck and me. He's straighter than an arrow."

"You sure? I didn't like the way he looked at you."

Kurt spun around to face his father, temporarily forgetting about the nonchalant demeanour he had tried to pass off as genuine. Eyebrows raised in thrilled anticipation, lips slightly parted in a vague smile.

"He was looking at me? How was he…?"

… and then he caught himself. His face fell and he flipped himself around again to hide his heatedly burning cheeks from his father. Burt did not seem too impressed by his cover-up. His arms were crossed over his chest – never a good sign.

"Yeah, he was looking at you, alright. Like you were something to eat", his father informed him in a non-approving tone. "I don't know what's going on and I'm not sure I want to know either, but he just doesn't seem like…"

"Like what, Dad? Boyfriend material?"

"Like your type."

Kurt could have argued. He could have snapped, shouted at him and tell him that he did not know one thing about what his type was like. He could have said that he had no reason to interfere. Though, he kept his mouth shut, tending to the car engine in silence until his dad sighed and gave up. Why? Because he knew he was right.

"I just don't want you to get hurt."

Puck was not his "type". He was not even sure if he had one, but Puck did not fit into that category anyway. Sure, he could appreciate his absolutely divine body and mischievous eyes, but there was no escaping the fact that Puck could be a giant asshole. He had done everything possible to torture him from day one. What exactly had changed? The blissful state the jock had left him in faded away faster than he wanted it to and all he could feel was the hollow space within and the aching of his pulsating erection. Damn you, Puck.

Dinner was an awfully quiet and uncomfortable business. Carole and Finn exchanged curious glances, unable to figure out why father and son did not speak. Quite honestly, Kurt did not know either. Maybe it was pure stubbornness from both sides as they both tried to process what had happened back at the garage. Burt knew that this day would come, but it had crept upon him without a fair warning and if there was something he hated more than the Nazis, it was surprises. Especially the ones which involved his son, another boy and quite possibly the i-word (read: intercourse).

"He ain't pushing you, is he?"

The clattering of forks and knives came to an immediate halt. Even Finn, who usually was quite oblivious and clueless stopped shovelling mashed potatoes into his mouth. Kurt raised his gaze from his plate to stare at his father in complete horror.

"Dad, we're not having this conversation with Carole and Finn in our presence", he hissed, an angry blush blossoming across his otherwise pale skin.

Okay… something seriously weird was going on here. Finn knows that he is quite dense, several people have told him so, but he is not dumb. At least not a lot. So when Burt looks at Kurt and uses that tone, you know, like Horatio Caine (the orange dude) in CSI: Miami when he is questioning a criminal, Finn knows that there is something going on. Most likely, it is about a boy. Now, Finn is not sure if he really wants to hear this, because both Burt and Kurt can be pretty scary when they are in this mood and he does not want to get in their way. Still, he was glued to his chair because you just did not walk out on mashed potatoes which were this good. You just… did not do such a thing, no matter how tense your company was.

"Answer the question, Kurt", Burt said, though, his tone was soft. Nice cop.

"I've already told you, there's nothing going on", Kurt replied in a voice which was sharper than usual.

Finn's eyes darted between the two as if he was watching a game of tennis.

"Still haven't answered the question, son."

Mom shifted uncomfortably in the seat next to him. Kurt's knife and fork clashed loudly with his plate. Now, his half-brother or whatever he was, was usually not the angry kind of guy, but he had acted weird like… all weekend. Finn was pretty sure that Kurt had eaten his ice-cream (and that was a crime in itself) and he never ate that kind of ice-cream. It was full with sugar and… stuff that makes you fat. Kurt used other words while explaining it, but Finn could not pronounce those words.

"Thank you for a lovely dinner, Carole, but I have simply lost my appetite."

He took his plate with him when he got up, dumped it in the sink and headed for the door opening.

"You're not walking away from this, Kurt."

"Yes, I am."

"No, you're not!"

The whole table shook when Burt rapidly got to his feet. If Finn did not know better, he could have sworn that it was an earthquake. Kurt had swirled around in the door opening, like a hurricane of designer clothes, fists balled up and eyes cold as ice. Yikes.

"For the last time, Dad, there is nothing going on between Puck and me, therefore there is no one pushing anyone and I am still a goddamn virgin!"

Finn's eyes widened in shock, mouth hanging open. Puck? Seriously? Kurt strode away, like a really pissed of queen of ice who was ready to chop some heads off. Burt looked pale and Mom held his hand.

"Puck?"

Yeah. Something weird was definitely going on.

Kurt stomped down the stairs to his basement and if he resembled a child, well, he simply did not care. He was… furious. Not only did Dad have the guts to interfere with his almost non-existing love life, but he also had to bring it up in front of Finn and Carole. He realized far too late that he had actually spoken Puck's name in front of his step-brother. Oh well, he would never fit those pieces together. As far as Finn knew, Puck was as straight as they come. A resigned sigh left him as he sunk down upon his bed. He guessed that Dad could have a reason to worry, but… Contrary to what you might believe, Kurt was in fact a boy. Even though it might be hard to believe, he did have some sort of upper body strength and if he was forced into a situation which craved it, he could throw a wicked punch (no matter how much he despised physical exercise). And well, he could not get pregnant either. So there really was not much to worry about, except for STDs. Oh whatever, Puck and he had not gotten to the point where it could actually be contagious… right? Kurt shrugged his worries off of himself. Puck would have said something. A shy knock upon his door forced him out of his thoughts.

"Go away, Dad", he bellowed unhappily up the stairs.

"Kurt, it's me", the voice on the other side of the door hesitated before continuing: "Finn."

As if Kurt did not recognize his absolutely endearing voice. He snorted.

"What do you want?"

"I've got your coat… Burt told me you left it at the garage. Can I come in?"

Of course. Good thinking, Dad, send the awkward, slightly homophobic teen to talk some sense into the gay one.

"Sure", he replied sourly.

Finn pushed the door open, holding the coat carefully in his large hands. He knew Kurt really cared about his clothes, so he had done his very best not to ruin it. His head might be kind of slow, but he liked it quite a lot and wanted to keep it. Kurt came towards him, reaching out for the coat. Finn took the last steps and let him have it.

"Thank you, Finn", the countertenor said and sat down on his bed.

He just shrugged, because well, he had just carried it down the stairs after being bullied into the snake's pit by Burt who had looked kind of desperate. He had gotten very clear instructions: give him the jacket, try to be casual, ask about that Puck kid. He would get twenty bucks if he made it out of the basement alive.

"So, uhm… Puck, huh?"

Kurt's otherwise bright eyes turned for the darker. Touchy subject.

"Has Dad offered you money to do this?"

"N-no! No, of course not!"

"How much?"

"Twenty bucks."

Jeez, he was such a pushover. Finn made it over to the bed and awkwardly sat down next to him. Kurt just stared at the jacket, fingers softly caressing the fabric.

"You know he's straight, right?"

Kurt did not reply at first, which was really confusing, because he kind of looked like he was going to burst into laughter and cry at the same time.

"Yes, Finn, I know."

"But you like him?"

"That is really none of your business."

That meant "yes". No one could say that he had not learned anything from living with the Hummels! Understanding chicks (plus Kurt) was so much easier now, when he had started to learn how to decode their words.

"But he bullies you all the time."

"Thank you for your enlightening input, but I am aware of that."

Okay, so he understood him better, except for the times when he used those words he knew confused Finn. He did it on purpose, he was sure of it. Kurt dug through the pockets of his coat, as if searching for something, but Finn just barely noticed. He needed to get back on track and figure out what he had tried to say before his almost step-brother had dazzled him with too many difficult words.

"But…"

"Enough with the buts. I have nothing more to say. Please, leave me alone."

A piece of paper. Indigo. It seemed to be a piece ripped off from one of those information flyers from the Celibacy Club which had popped up around McKinley last week. Something about "fornication makes God cry". Kurt had not paid attention to them, but the little scrap tightly clutched in his hand screamed for him. He had temporarily forgotten about what Puck had called out after Dad threatened him with the shotgun. Front pocket. He had found the small paper in his front pocket. The mattress (and Kurt too) sighed in relief when Finn finally got to his feet and walked towards the stairs. Could he walk slower? Really, with such long legs, he should be able to get out of there faster than that.

"Hey, Kurt…"

Kurt looked up at him in clear impatience.

"Don't let him hurt you, okay?"

With those words, Finn walked up the stairs and closed the door carefully behind him. Kurt stared at the place where he had stood. It was at times like these he clearly understood why he had been head over heels for that uncoordinated, freakishly tall idiot. He was too cute for words to describe.

But still… Why did everyone worry about him getting hurt? It seemed as if they did not have any faith in his choices whatsoever. When had he ever given them any reason to doubt his decisions? If Kurt knew anything (except how to dress like a star ready for the red carpet), it was how to take care of himself. Puck might not be such a good idea, but he would manage. With a new determination in his eyes and actions, he unravelled the small piece of paper. A few words had been hastily scribbled down with a black marker.

"I won't miss our rende-whatever-you-said tomorrow. Dumpsters, 8:45?"

An absolutely ridiculous smile spread across Kurt's face. He had a date.

Author's note: So, we got to see some from Finn's point of view too. He is not going to have a greater affect on this story (I think), he just serves as my slave when I need to take a break from Kurt's awesomeness.

Yeah, I know it did not happen much in this chapter, but it was needed for the story to continue. I want to jump from make-out session to make-out session too, but that would not make much of a story.

Do you know what I do when I have a writer's block? I put on my Glee playlist and read all of your wonderful reviews. So, if you want the chapters to keep coming, let the reviews keep coming! No, this is not blackmail *cough*