Finn sat back on his bed, legs extended, a bowl of popcorn in his hand, munching contentedly as he watched the amusing spectator sport that was Kurt Hummel in a fashion panic. Clothes littered every surface, including a surprisingly large pile that had been rejected on the basis of no longer fitting correctly following Kurt's latest growth spurt.
His brother had severely mourned several of those items, experimenting with hiding the too-short pants inside his beloved Doc Martin lace-up boots, and the high-rise shirt cuffs with layers of contrasting garments above and below. To Finn, the adjustments had looked perfectly acceptable. He never would have known the difference, but to Kurt's eyes the new look was all wrong and those clothes had been tossed in the reject pile, bound for his favorite designer resale shop after Christmas.
"What are you so nervous about?" Finn finally asked as Kurt flopped down on his bed and stared at the fashion maelstrom with calm despair. "You've got loads of clothes left, even without that stuff, and we're only going to the Christmas parade. You'll be outside, with your coat on. It's not like this guy Blaine is going to see, much less care, if your outfit isn't color coordinated or whatever."
Kurt looked at him as though he had just uttered a string of unexpected profanity, shocked and highly offended. "I'll care," he said flatly.
"Why?" Finn asked, sitting up and putting his snack aside. "You looked normal the first couple times you met him. I mean, no uniform or anything, and he didn't mind what you wore then. What's so special about this time?"
"It's Christmas. It's special. I mean, yes, he's seen me out of uniform before but at the time he and I weren't . . ." He paused, seeming to deflate as he let out a long deep sigh. "We still aren't, are we? I wanted to look extra-special tonight, because I thought it was kind of, well, romantic that he volunteered to drive down just to spend a couple of hours with me during the holidays. But maybe you're right. He probably just didn't have anything better to do with his time and all that stuff about mistletoe was just teasing and I'm definitely reading way too much into a couple of text messages. Maybe he hasn't left home yet. I should message him back and cancel before it's too late."
Finn was startled by the spew of words and the sudden about-face in the confident excitement Kurt had been caught up in since yesterday, when he had gushed with adorable and (Finn knew Kurt would kill him if he expressed this thought) girlish enthusiasm over his upcoming semi-date with Blaine.
"Whoa, Kurt, hold on," he scolded, getting off his bed and crossing the room to snatch Kurt's phone out of his hand before he could do something he would regret. "I'm sure he's already on his way by now. It's too late to stop him. And don't try to put this on me if you want to chicken out, 'cause that's not what I think! Blaine wanting to spend Christmas Eve with you is romantic. It's totally cheesy, chick-flick level romantic, and I'm sure you have nothing to worry about."
"You think?" he asked, clearly wanting to believe it.
"Totally. If he likes you very much at all, he'll be stoked to see you, even if you show up in holey jeans and one of my football jerseys, just because you guys are together. That's how I always felt when I met Rachel someplace. It can't be any different for him just because you're both dudes, right?"
Kurt offered a weak smile. "Right. You're a pretty cool brother, Finn Hudson. You know that?"
He grinned. "Yeah, I know."
Kurt laughed a little. "I'm being stupid, I know that, but you haven't met Blaine. He's always so suave and dapper and smooth. It's not that he'll hold me to some impossible standard, but if I show up in just any old thing, I'll feel like I failed to meet it anyway." He gestured around the messy room. "Thus, the complete sartorial freak-out. And I still don't know what to wear."
"What did Mercedes suggest when you asked her?"
Kurt's soft, derisive snort made him laugh. "She was no help whatsoever. Everything she suggested was so last year that it wasn't even funny. Sometimes I think my taste and fashion influence has been completely lost on that girl."
Inspiration struck Finn like a bolt of lightning. His mom had always been firm about not peeking at the gifts before Christmas morning and that habit had ingrained itself in Finn early on, but maybe this year it was time to make an exception.
Holding up a finger to indicate that Kurt should wait a moment, he charged up the stairs so fast he nearly tripped over his own feet and raced to the pile of gifts under the Christmas tree. His mom had a three-day weekend from work for the holiday and her mouth gaped open in shock when she walked out of the kitchen to see her son digging eagerly through the pile of presents and making a triumphant noise as he pulled out a large gift box.
"Finn! What are you doing?"
"Oh, hey, Mom. Sorry, but I need to give Kurt his present a day early. Trust me, this is an emergency!"
Before she could say anything else, he thundered back down the stairs and flung the cheery Santa-paper-wrapped box at his brother. "Merry Christmas, dude!"
Kurt fumbled the projectile, not looking quite sure what to do with it. Pointing upstairs, he asked confusedly, "Is this some kind of a Hudson thing I haven't heard about? Should I . . .?"
"No, no, it's cool. I can wait until morning. In fact, Mom just gave a major stink-eye over grabbing this one early, but I had to. Open it up!"
After staring at him for a few more seconds, Kurt shrugged and slipped the band of ribbon off the box. Taking a moment to admire the gift tag which read, 'To the best bro a guy could have, from Finn', he started working on the taped edge of the paper.
Finn sat on Kurt's bed and wriggled impatiently. He should have known Kurt would be one of those people who unwrapped carefully and saved the paper. Finn was more of a rip and shred kind of person, himself. Fortunately, Kurt was quick and when he opened the box and folded back the tissue paper he gasped in amazement at the contents.
"So? What do you think?" Finn asked with a grin.
Kurt's fingers were shaking a little as he lifted out a pair of slim-fit black jeans and a thick, hand-knit, teal turtleneck sweater, the yarn so fluffy and soft beneath his fingertips that it was like petting a cloud. "It's beautiful, Finn," he replied, his voice faint. "It must have been terribly expensive, though. You shouldn't have."
"It wasn't all that much," he lied. In truth, the sweater was a one of a kind designer import and the price tag had nearly given him a heart attack when he saw it. "You know that Burt's been letting me work at his garage part time, and I haven't spent much so I had extra money for gifts this year. And don't worry, that stuff should fit you okay. I stole the shirt and slacks from that Dalton uniform you brought home and took them shopping with me the other day. I picked the sweater but Mercedes suggested the color. She said it was a good match for your eyes or something."
He grew a little worried when Kurt continued to gently pet the sweater without saying anything, then the other boy sniffled and Finn realized that he was struggling to hold back tears.
His face fell. "You don't like it?"
Kurt looked up, eyes shimmering but with a huge smile on his face. He set the box aside and threw his arms around Finn's neck. "I love it. Thank you, Finn."
He hugged back, happy but a little embarrassed by the reaction. "Try them on."
With a nod, Kurt took the gift and disappeared into the bathroom. When he emerged a few minutes later, smoothing the sweater down his slender form, Finn could not help but grin. The jeans fit tight without looking like they'd been painted onto his body and came all the way to the top of Kurt's feet, the way half his old pants could no longer manage. He had paired them with stylish black leather boots, and the teal sweater fit as though it had been custom made just for Kurt. The other boy's eyes sparkled with pleasure over his gift and Finn was interested to note that Mercedes had been totally right about the color.
Kurt turned in a circle and asked, "So, what do you think?"
"You look awesome. If that Blaine dude doesn't try to lay one on you tonight, he's been totally lying about playing for your team."
Kurt laughed, cheeks flushing with pleasure at the compliment. "Is it any wonder that you were my first crush? You always know just the right thing to say."
Finn laughed along with him. There had been a time when he would have been totally weirded out by a comment like that, but he had done some growing up since their parents' wedding and now it never even occurred to him to be concerned by the joke. They were bro's and it was totally okay.
Just to kill some time, the two of them worked together to put Kurt's clothing tornado back into the appropriate closet and drawer spaces, all of the too-small items being folded carefully into bags for later disposal.
"So, you mentioned Rachel earlier. Any progress on that front?" Kurt asked after a while, trying to pretend that he was not checking the clock on his nightstand every couple of minutes, counting down the time until they would leave for the parade.
"Nah. She's left me pretty much alone since you talked to her," Finn reported. "It's weird, but at least I don't feel like I'm being hunted anymore. I think I'm actually starting to kind of miss her."
Kurt smiled. "Well, that's good, right? Maybe it means you aren't as upset with her as you thought."
He shrugged. "I still get mad when I think about her with Puck."
"You probably always will, at least a little," Kurt suggested, "but I'm not sure it's fair to hate her forever over a single bad decision. You've made your share of mistakes, Finn. We all have. Remember that horrible slut makeover I gave her last year when she was trying to impress you?"
Finn smiled at the memory of Rachel in her sad clown hooker get-up. "You did that?"
"She didn't tell you?" he asked in surprise. Then he blushed. "Probably just as well. That wasn't one of my finer moments, as a fashionista or a friend."
Biting his lip, Finn considered the matter, retrieving his popcorn and offering some to Kurt. Surprisingly, he accepted, nibbling the snack one kernel at a time with the delicacy of a chipmunk. Finn, by contrast, devoured his corn by the handful as he thought. "I guess . . . it would be kind of hypothetical to hold a mistake against her."
"Hypocritical," Kurt corrected, sneaking a few more pieces of popcorn from the bowl.
Finn nodded. "And it would be a shame to have nobody to kiss at midnight on New Year's Eve," he ventured.
Kurt smiled at him. "That's always been my opinion." His eyes twinkled. "Who knows, all being well, maybe we'll both get a shot at it this year."
"That's the spirit," Finn told him, trying not to think too much about Kurt kissing dudes. He liked the idea of his brother having somebody to love. (That was not himself.) He just wasn't quite sure he wanted to watch them make out. Though, to be fair, Kurt probably hadn't enjoyed the sight of him making out with girls much either. He glanced at the clock. "Looks like it's probably about time to get going."
Kurt sprang up from his bed comically fast, gathering his phone, wallet and keys (he had offered to drive tonight) and bolting up the stairs before Finn could even grab his brand new Letteman jacket - a replacement for the one Karofsky and Azimio had ruined - off the bed.
Finn chuckled as he followed the other boy upstairs at a more normal pace. Once Kurt got things settled with Blaine and calmed down a little, Finn was going to have so much ammo to tease him with.