At the End of Each Day Chapter 4: Of Signals and Infections, a glee fanfic

Chapter 4 – Of Signals and Infections

"You go and fetch our milk tonight. I can't go into the kitchen."

"Why?"

"Dad and Carole are in another sickening 'I love you', 'I love you more', 'No, I love you more' session. I just can't stomach it."

"They've been like that since the wedding and you never seemed to mind," Finn pointed out, getting back to the task of unpacking his CDs and DVDs and placing them on his brand new shelves. "In fact, I remember you saying it was sweet and telling me to stop gagging."

"Yes, but that was when they were expressing their genuine newly-wed bliss. Now this... thisis just giving into a tacky, idiotic, over-commercialized, wanna-be holiday."

"Uh?"

"Valentine's, Finn! They were discussing how they were going to celebrate Valentine's, where they're going to go to have a pretentious dinner served by bored waiters who weren't lucky enough to get the day off, and whether they're going to spend the night in some gaudy hotel where other old couples will go to pretend that they're still young, dating and childless."

"Could we please not talk about our parents and hotel rooms? Because, yuck."

"This whole holiday is a big yuck," Kurt muttered.

"Is this because it's a saint's day, and you're not into that?"

"Valentine's isn't even a saint's day! It might have been at some point, but now it's just Buy-Candies-and-Roses Day. And anyone who bothers to spend three minutes researching the issue online can learn that Saint Valentine, and by that I mean any of the Christian martyrs known by that name, has nothing to do with romantic love, some crazy legends about a rebellious priest performing illegal weddings notwithstanding. Chances are this madness is all Chaucer's fault. The man writes a poem about birds mating on the day of one Saint Valentine, and somehow everyone starts reading it as some other Saint Valentine being the patron of human love."

"Ooooookay," Finn murmured. "Sorry I asked."

Kurt halted his ranting and took a deep, calming breath. "I'm not saying there's anything wrong with romance. Far from it. I'm a firm believer in romance. But as a genuine, spontaneous expression of affection, not this... this contrived fever of hearts and chocolates and cupids and the indiscriminate abuse of red and pink.

"You know, Mom used to be really upset around Valentine's too. Like, really, really sad. And look at her now. Yeah, I don't want to know any details about what she and Burt are planning either, but... you can't deny that they're super happy. It's even kinda freaky to see old people that happy."

Kurt planted his fists on his hips. "Finn Hudson, are you saying all my very rational objections against Valentine's Day are simply a bitter backlash to my being single?"

"Uh... yes? No? I think so. Isn't it?"

Kurt glared daggers at him, and turned to leave. "When our parents clear the kitchen, I'm making myself green tea."

"Kurt, come on! Don't be like that!"

Kurt spun on his heels and pointed a finger at Finn. "Don't tell me what to be like! And may I remind you that you're single too?"

"Yeah, but... I'm like The Bachelor, now," said Finn with a lopsided smile.

"Excuse me?"

"The TV show? With all the gorgeous chicks fighting for one dude? After winning the first conference championship in the school's history, I'm every girl's dream date. The hardest part of the holiday will be figuring out which I one I should pick."

"Well, congratulations, then," said Kurt acidly. "Good luck choosing Puck's next fling."

This time, Finn didn't try to make him stay.

"Your bird sounds happy today."

"I know. I think he was bitten by the Valentine's bug." There was a dreamy smile in Kurt's face as he watched Pavarotti sing.

"And you look a lot happier today too," Finn observed. He sat beside Kurt on the bed and handed him his mug of milk.

"Finn... do you know Rachel's usual coffee order?"

"Chai soy latte," Finn answered instantly. "She'd get really scary-angry if I got it wrong."

"Do you know Puck's?"

"Puck's?"

"Yes. What does he order at the Lima Bean?"

"Uh... coffee? And bagels?"

Kurt beamed. "He's your childhood friend, and you don't know his coffee order?"

"Should I?"

"No. Not at all." Kurt sounded very pleased. "What about cupid cookies? Would you share them with Puck... or with Rachel?"

Finn scowled. "Neither. Why would I want to share my cookies? They can get their own."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Never mind. I already have all the answers I need."

"Good. What were the questions?"

Kurt sipped his milk, then joined Pavarotti in a whistling duet.

"Did Blaine ask you out?" asked Finn with a knowing grin.

"What? No!"

"Come on... You were foaming at the mouth yesterday because of Valentine's, and now I can practically see the hearts in your eyes."

"I do not have hearts in my eyes!"

Finn stared right into Kurt's eyes, pointing a finger at them. "Hah! There they are. Like, cartoon hearts, about to jump out of your face."

Kurt slapped his finger away, but there was amusement in his face. "Shut up."

"I'm right, ain't I? Blaine totally asked you out."

"No." Kurt's body vibrated in barely contained excitement. "Not yet. But he's given me very obvious clues that he's about to. In a very romantic, inspired way."

"I knew it! I totally knew it."

"You didn't know anything!"

"No? Didn't I tell you before Christmas? Come on, you don't sing the frigging date rape song to a friend!"

This time Kurt didn't protest the song's epithet, focusing on the rest of Finn's statement. "You really think so?"

"Oh, yeah, definitely. And I hope he remembers you have a brother who's twice his size and who'll beat the crap out of him if he doesn't behave like a gentleman."

"Blaine is a gentleman. He's the epitome of a gentleman." Before Finn could ask, Kurt added, "That means he's very much a true, true gentleman."

"He'd better be," said Finn gravely. "You deserve someone who is totally awesome."

Kurt lowered his head, blushing. "Sorry about what I said yesterday. About Puck."

Finn nudged him gently, shoulder against shoulder. "It's okay. It wasn't cool that I was rubbing my dating in your face either."

"Speaking of," said Kurt more chirpily, "I received some very interesting calls today."

Finn growled. "And Mercedes Jones strikes again."

"She was the first, yes. Fastest texter in Ohio. But I also got calls and texts from Tina and Artie. And Rachel sent me five long emails expressing concern for your physical and emotional health." Kurt frowned. "I don't know about the latter, but I have to agree that a kissing booth will expose you to a frightening multitude of germs. What did Ms. Pillsbury have to say about that?"

"Nothing much, since she hasn't been around for about a week already. I've heard she's on medical leave... something about a student sneezing in her hair."

Kurt let out a frustrated sigh. "Just when her mysophobia could have actually been useful. Well, you'd better not bring any diseases home to infect this family. Especially Dad. I'm not sure if his immune system is back to full strength yet. Also, whenever he gets sick he keeps begging for high fat comfort food, and it pains me to say no to him when he's already feeling miserable."

Finn stood up, aggravated. "Why can't anyone see the good in what I'm doing? It's charity! Right now, I'm a very fortunate guy, popular and successful. The school loves me. Isn't this the time to give back? To do something for those in need? What's wrong with a little generosity?"

"Well, for starters, it is indeed little generosity," said Kurt patiently. "I know math is not your best subject, and neither is mine, but give it some thought at least. Even if every single girl at McKinley comes to your booth, and even if each and every one of them decides to have seconds and pays you twice, you'll still only make about a tenth of what the New Directions would need to pay for the trip to New York if you guys place at Regionals."

"But it is something!" Finn yelled. "Every dollar counts, right?"

"There's also the matter of motivation," Kurt continued. "You say you're just being charitable. But Mercedes thinks this is a ploy to get all the girls at McKinley to kiss you, while Rachel thinks this is a ploy to get back at her and make her jealous."

"It's not a ploy!"

"Good. Because I thought it might be a ploy to get Quinn to kiss you again."

Finn had his mouth open to argue, but closed it quickly, sending Kurt a scared look.

"No, Finn, I am not reading your mind."

At that, the quarterback's eyes widened in terror.

Kurt shook his head. "Just a lucky guess, okay? Or, okay, it's more than that. It's not like I don't understand the urge to give fate a better chance to get where we want it to get us. Been there, done that, got the stepbrother to prove it. I'm just wondering... why you'd want fate to get there in the first place."

Finn leaned back against the window, taking a sip of his milk. "It's just... I've been thinking a lot lately, you know? Since that day... and that kiss. And I've been wondering... if that's why Rachel and I couldn't make it work. Because I never really forgot Quinn."

"I thought it was because Rachel cheated on you with Puck."

"Well, yes. But..."

"So call me crazy, but maybe trying to get back to your other girlfriend who also cheated on you with Puck isn't exactly the best idea you've ever had?"

"The heart has reasons that... reason doesn't give a crap about, or whatever."

Kurt smiled behind his mug. "That's not quite how the saying goes, but..." He shrugged. "Eloquent enough, and so very true."

"Finn! Your hands!"

"What?"

"You have red paint all over your hands! What do you think is going to happen if you open the fridge with your hands like that?"

"Oh. Sorry, Mom."

"It's fine, just go wash them. Outside, at the backyard faucet."

Finn rushed to obey, and returned after a couple of minutes, having managed to get water stains all over his clothes. But that was not what got Carole's attention. "Oh my God, you remembered to wipe your feet before coming back inside!"

"Uh... yeah?"

"How come in seventeen years I could never get you not to bring in a ton of dirt into the house every time you stepped outside?"

"No Kurt," said Finn easily.

"Kurt?"

"He's waaaaaaaay scarier than you are."

Carole laughed. "I knew having a brother would be good for you. See what a great influence he's been."

"He's threatened to starch my PJ's if he ever finds my footprints inside the house."

"Oh, is that all I had to do? If only I had known..."

"Mom!"

"Of course, you'd probably have a better chance safeguarding your clothes if you did your own laundry."

Finn narrowed his eyes. "I knew this was going to happen. Now you like Kurt better than me 'cause he's the neat one."

"Oh, none of that, honey. Kurt could never replace you in my heart. I still need someone I can beat at gin rummy. That was the whole reason why I wanted a child, after all." She got on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. "I'm a little late with dinner, so you might want to have your milk now instead of later."

"But... I need to wait for Kurt for that. Is he home yet?"

"He was, about an hour ago, but then he left again." She went back to dicing potatoes. "He's gone to a slumber party."

Finn gasped at the news. "He's spending the night at Blaine's? They haven't even gone out on a date yet!"

"Blaine?" Carole frowned. "No, sweetheart, at Rachel's."

"Ah. Well. That's okay, then. Weird, but... okay."

"Weird how? Because he's a boy?"

"Because he's my brother and she's my ex-girlfriend, and because they used to be at each other's throats all the time not so long ago." Finn shrugged, taking the carton of milk out of the fridge. "In a way it makes total sense that they've become friends, but... it's a little eerie to think of the things they might plot together."

"Well, I don't know if that makes you feel any better, but I think Mercedes will be there too."

"Huh. I guess at least that way I'll find out what they'll be talking about, if I can get her to spill the beans tomorrow."

"Let Kurt have his privacy, Finn. Sharing a house with two new family members is as much an adjustment to him as it is to you."

"Is that why he decided to spend the night out? Why didn't he even bother to tell me about it?" He picked a mug from the cupboard and poured in the milk. "I was right there in the backyard. He could at least have stopped to say hi."

"He said he didn't want to disturb you while you were working on your project. And really, he didn't stay long. He packed his things while Burt cleared the matter with the Berries, and then he was off."

"Cleared what matter? The size of Kurt's bag? He probably had to take all his creams and stuff."

"Burt insisted on calling her fathers to make sure it was okay to have Kurt sharing a bedroom with their daughter. But they thought nothing of it." Carole giggled. "Actually, I think they were a little amused at Burt's concern."

Finn put the mug in the microwave and set the timer. "Kurt's not going to see my awesome booth now. I'm taking it to the school tomorrow morning."

"Take a picture," she suggested.

"It's not the same thing."

"I'm sorry, sweetie."

Finn muttered something under his breath, glaring at the lonely mug spinning in the microwave. He opened the door two seconds before the timer reached zero.

"Finn, how many times do I have to tell you to turn it off before you open the door if you're not going to wait for the beep?"

"Sorry. Forgot." He took the mug out, checked the temperature with a little sip, and nodded his approval. "I'll be in my room, okay?"

"Doing your homework, I hope."

He uttered another unintelligible grumble and escaped to the stairs and to the upper floor. He found Burt, fresh from his shower, leaving the master bedroom wearing sweatpants and a gray tee shirt, a towel around his shoulders.

"Finished with the painting already?"

"Yeah. It's looking good."

"How's your hand?"

"It's okay. I mean..." Finn raised his left hand to show it to his stepfather. "The tip of my thumb is a little purple, that's all."

Burt examined it, touching it carefully. "Still hurts?"

"Just a little."

"It's not swollen, so it should be okay in a couple of days. You gotta be more careful next time, though. You're gonna need those fingers when basketball season starts."

Finn smiled half-heartedly. "I already knew I had two left feet. I guess I have two left hands too."

Burt patted him on the arm. "Nah, don't give up, okay? Manual labor, just like everything else, just requires some practice. You'll get the hang of it."

"I don't know. I don't really see myself becoming a carpenter."

"And you don't have to. It's just useful having some basic skills, so you won't have to bring in some so-called 'professional' who'll rob you blind whenever you need a quick repair around the house."

"Yeah," said Finn with a nod. "Yeah, I totally get that. I don't wanna be that guy who calls the plumber every time there's a clog in the kitchen sink, you know?"

Burt nodded back, patted his arm once more, and started towards the stairs. As he went down the first step, though, he halted. "Finn?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't try to unclog any sinks on your own, okay? Call me... and I'll show you how. Baby steps. All right?"

"Right. No worries."

"Okay." Visibly relieved, Burt went down the stairs to join his wife.

Finn found himself at the door of Kurt's bedroom, which was open. He gazed down at the mug in his hand, a sad look taking over his face, and he entered the room, flicking the lights on.

The room wasn't as tidy as usual. There were clothes laid on the bed, still in their hangers, the closet doors were ajar, a drawer in the dresser was open. About half of the products that usually covered the vanity were gone.

And that wasn't the only thing missing.

Finn quickly took his phone out of his pocket and hit speed-dial.

"Hello, Finn Hud—"

"Kurt! Your bird flew away!"

"What?"

"Your bird is gone! I came to check your room, and he's not here! Did you leave the windows open? They're closed now. Maybe you left them open and Mom closed them after he escaped?"

"Finn..."

"Except that I can't find the cage either. He was so little, how did he manage to take the cage with him?"

"Finn, calm down. I took him back to Dalton this morning."

"What?" The quarterback sat down on Kurt's bed, still looking around in confusion. "Why?"

"He's well again, with a bright new coat of feathers, singing and hopping around in his cage... There was no reason to keep him at home anymore."

"What do you mean, no reason? I thought you liked him."

"He's not mine, Finn. He's the Warblers' mascot. His place is at Dalton."

"Yeah, but... he's like a Hudmel now."

"A what?"

"A Hudmel. A Hudson-Hummel clan member."

"Finn, you really need to stop making up those names. I can't say I like the way Santana loves calling us 'The Furt Brothers'. And as for... Seriously, do you even know the bird's name?" Kurt sighed.

"Of course I do!"

"Yeah? Then what is it?"

"It's... Pav... uh... Pav."

"Pav," Kurt echoed.

"Yep! That's what I call him."

"During the long afternoons you and... Pav... have spent together?" asked Kurt sarcastically.

Finn rolled his eyes. "Okay, fine, so I haven't spent that much time with him. But... he's a cute little bird, and you were taking good care of him... and you taught him new songs, and he was just starting to whistle duets with you... It was cool, all right? Like a Disney movie. And now..." He looked around at the room. "There's no one here."

"You don't think I'd love to keep him? I just... can't."

"It's not fair," Finn moaned.

"You should know better than anyone, Finn. You can't always get what you want."

Finn frowned. "Kurt, are you okay?"

"Sure. Why?"

"You sound kind of sad. And your room is a mess. Well, for your room, it's really messy. There's, like, clothes on the bed!"

Kurt seemed to hesitate before replying. "It's nothing. I was just in a hurry when I packed."

"You can talk to me, you know."

"You hate talking about feelings."

"We don't talk about feelings. We talk about things that happen that then cause feelings. Those don't make me sleepy."

"Well, I can't talk now, because I'm at Rachel's."

"So what? I have my warm milk here with me. You could get one too, and then we could talk. Do our thing, just over the phone."

"Finn, I'm a guest here. It'd be impolite."

"It's Rachel," said Finn with a shrug. "She wouldn't mind."

"Of course she would. And she would let me know very loudly how much she minds not being the center of attention at a slumber party at her own place, and she'd very likely get her dads to kick me out. Or worse, call Dad to come pick me up. So let's not, okay?"

"Fine," Finn grumbled. "It's just... it's our thing."

There was a pause on the other end of the line. Then Kurt spoke again, a little more cheerfully. "Listen, Rachel is at the door getting our pizzas, and Mercedes is in the bathroom changing into her pajamas. So we have a couple of minutes."

"You're eating pizza? You really are sad!"

"It's vegetarian pizza, light on the sauce, no cheese. Well, the one I'm sharing with Rachel is. Mercedes asked for a four meat, extra cheese, extra toppings."

"Did something happen today at your school?"

"...no. Nothing happened."

"Did Blaine...?"

"Blaine asked for an emergency meeting of the Warblers. They'll be performing off-campus the day after tomorrow."

"They? You won't be with them?"

"I... I don't know yet. I have to study. I don't know if they'd let me skip it, though. I... don't know."

"But..."

"What about you? How was your day?"

"Uh, well, Burt helped me build my kissing booth."

"He did?"

"Yeah, he did the hammering while I lifted up the boards and held them in place. We tried the other way around, but I kept hitting my fingers, and I'm younger and stronger anyway. And I did all the painting on my own."

"Did Dad know he was building a kissing booth?"

"Sure! Well, kind of. He might have thought that the booth is actually part of the set for a musical number for the glee club."

"Gee, I wonder what, or who, gave him that idea..."

"Is that Finn? Is he asking about me?" hissed another voice at the other end of the line.

"No."

"Of course he is! Why else would he call you?"

"If you must know, to ask about my bird."

"Your what? Kurt, clearly you don't know the first thing about boys! Can't you see that's just a poor excuse to casually query you about my sentiments and my state of mind, and to soothe his sorrowful heart by hopefully hearing my voice singing softly in the background..."

"Well, then I suspect his heart is amply soothed by now."

"Okay, so where's my pizza?" asked a third voice. "Kurt, tell me that is not Mr. Blaine Warbler on the phone."

"It's not, it's Finn! He's called Kurt just so he could listen to my voice."

"Then why didn't he call you? Doesn't he have your number?"

"Mercedes, don't you get it? He's being furtive!"

"I guess I am, right?" said Finn, thoughtful. "Talking to you. I'm being Furt-ive."

Finn heard an anguished moan.

"Kurt? Are you okay?"

"Kurt, what did he say? What did he say?" asked Rachel anxiously.

"Doesn't matter what he said," snapped Mercedes. "Kurt, say goodbye and turn it off. This is ladies' night. Straight boys not allowed."

"Finn, sorry, I need to hang up now."

Finn pouted. "Yeah. Okay. I get it."

"I'll see you tomorrow."

Finn hung up without saying anything else. He put Kurt's clothes back in the closet, closed its doors and the dresser drawer, turned out the lights and went to his own room. He sat on the recliner, drinking his milk and doing nothing else.

Twenty minutes later, Finn received a text from Kurt. Friendly advice: make sure you have change for $100 tomorrow. Just in case.

"So here's my kissing booth. And here's the booth seen from the back, with the line that had already formed before I opened. And this is the line at the end of lunch hour. That's when most of the cheerleaders showed up."

"Did Quinn show up?"

"Uh... yes. Sort of."

Kurt leaned back against the headboard of his bed, smiling impishly. "And did you sort of kiss her?"

"No," Finn admitted, flipping through more photos in his cell phone. "She actually came to tell me that she wouldn't kiss me. Which kind of says a lot, right? I mean, if she didn't want to kiss me, she could have simply not come at all. I say she totally wants to, and is just trying to save face."

"Or maybe she can see through your whole scheme and is trying to get you to quit before you get hurt, or before she or Sam does."

"Kurt, you haven't seen how she's been looking at me lately. I'm telling you, she's giving me all the right signals."

"You can't be sure those signals mean what you want them to mean."

"Sure I can."

Kurt let out an exhausted sigh. "Are you serious about this? You're really going after Quinn?"

"Yep," said Finn defiantly.

"Fine. So please, do the decent thing and break up with Rachel once and for all."

"I already did that," said Finn with a frown. "Twice."

"Then do it again. In no uncertain ways. Leave no place for hope or delusions. No mixed signals of any kind. It may be brutal now, but believe me, it'll be the best thing for her in the long run."

Finn put his cell away, shifting on the bed to sit right beside Kurt, back pressing against the headboard. "Are we really talking about Rachel?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're still wearing your uniform. Blazer, tie and everything. It's getting all wrinkled. You only get careless with your clothes when you're upset."

"I'm just tired. Long rehearsal today."

"So you promise you're not talking about me."

Kurt blinked. "You?"

"Me. Giving you... mixed signals. Last year. Not that I knew that I was. Well. Sometimes... I..."

"Finn," Kurt interrupted him firmly. "I wasn't talking about you. I swear."

"Oh. Okay." However, the quarterback still looked suspicious.

Kurt closed his eyes and let his head fall back wearily. "It's Blaine. Okay? I was thinking about Blaine."

"Blaine? But Blaine didn't give you any mixed signals. He's asking you out for Valentine's."

"No, what he's asked me and the Warblers is that we back him up as he sings his undying love to the guy he really wants to ask out for Valentine's."

"Wait, what?"

"Okay, so maybe Robin Thicke's When I Get You Alone isn't exactly about undying love. In a way, I almost wish it were."

Finn stared at Kurt, dumbfounded. "Are you serious? But... what about the date rape song? What was that?"

"A genuine request to help him rehearse and nothing more, I guess."

"Who does that?" Finn exclaimed. "What about the rest? You said he gave you obvious signs..."

"Well, obviously, I was wrong," Kurt quipped bitterly. "There were no signs. Just my overactive imagination. Wait, actually, you know what? There were some real signs, and those I totally missed. Like the fact that he went shopping at the Gap eight times in the past three weeks. What sane, tasteful person goes that often to the Gap unless they have a thing for the junior manager?"

"I'm sorry, man," said Finn softly. "That really, really sucks."

Kurt wrapped his arms around himself, his head lowered in defeat. "I should have known better. And I should've known better than letting myself be infected by this damn Valentine's Fever!"

"Are you sure he did not lead you on on purpose? Because, seriously, the date rape song..."

"Forget about the song, will you?" Kurt snapped. "No, I'm sure, it was all me. He probably doesn't even have a clue that I like... that I thought... you know."

Finn shifted even closer, letting their arms brush against each other. "He's an idiot, then."

"No, I have nothing but myself to blame. I'm the right gender, the right sexual orientation, his friends would not alienate him for being with me, and he's had plenty opportunity to know me and appreciate me. And he likes me even, as a friend. He just doesn't see me. And that's what's boggling my mind, because I'm used to being noticed and not liked. And he likes me but doesn't notice me."

"I'm telling you, he's an idiot."

"And I'm telling you, it's not his fault."

"And you're not saying that just so I don't beat him to a pulp?"

"Finn, if I thought he had deliberately led me on, I'd beat him to a pulp myself," Kurt smirked. "I'm taller than him, and I pack one hell of a kick."

Finn smiled. "That you do."

"Could you please be the one to go and bring us our milk? I wasn't kidding about the rehearsal. Really long, really tiring. The council is really uneasy about doing an informal performance, and made up for that by demanding nothing short of perfection. I'm not entirely sure they get the meaning of the word 'informal', really."

"Wait, so you're really gonna help Blaine ask some other guy out?"

"Apparently, yes. Mercedes and Rachel think I should, to scope the competition." Kurt shrugged. "I don't know, I can't really see the point, to be honest. The thing is, Blaine is my friend, and he asked for my help. It's hard to come up with any defensible excuse not to help a friend to get with the person he likes."

"So you end up doing stuff like serenading this Gap guy for Blaine... and helping me dress up for dinner with the Fabrays."

Kurt glanced at Finn out of the corner of his eye. "Let's not talk about that, okay?"

Finn gazed at him for a moment, then pulled him into a quick half-embrace. "I don't care what you say, he's an idiot." He jumped out of bed the next second. "Two mugs of warm milk coming up!"

"Finn! Finn! Come on, we've just got the house! Try not to knock it to the ground!"

The door to Finn's bedroom opened with a swish, and the tall boy beamed down at his brother. "Finally, you're home!" He grabbed Kurt's arm and pulled him unceremoniously inside. "I have so much to tell you."

"Is that why you're jumping up and down, 'cause I could hear the manic thumping... Wait, is that Katy Perry?"

"Yeah, I'm trying to find a song for this week's glee club assignment."

"The girls told me you're supposed to pair up and sing what you consider the most romantic song of all time."

"Yeah, and I'm doing the trick Mrs. Schuester taught me, typing keywords into the iTunes and seeing what fits."

"And somehow you ended up with I Kissed a Girl?"

Finn opened his arms and shrugged, his smile broadening smugly.

"Quinn came to your booth," Kurt realized.

The song coming from the speakers reached the chorus once more, and Finn joined in, dancing ecstatically.

"I kissed a girl and liked it
The taste of her cherry chap stick
I kissed a girl just to try it..."

Kurt marched to the computer and turned off the sound. "Okay, first, no Katy Perry in this house. Ever."

"You listen to Teenage Dream all the time."

"Not anymore, I don't."

"It's your ringtone for Blai... Oh."

"Yeah, exactly. It was my ringtone for him. Now it's Sade's Smooth Operator. Second, you know the next line of the chorus is 'I hope my boyfriend don't mind it', right?"

"Yeah, well, I was thinking of making a few changes to the lyrics, like saying 'her boyfriend' instead of 'my boyfriend'... and probably getting rid of the whole second verse..."

"Finn, even if you change the entire thing, third, are you really going to sing this to Quinn at glee club? In front of her boyfriend? And just hope he doesn't mind?"

"But that's the beauty of my plan, Sam won't get it!" said Finn triumphantly. "He was right there when I kissed her, and he thought nothing of it."

"And fourth, maybe there was nothing to think of. You were selling kisses in a booth. What makes you think it meant anything more than a simple donation for charity?"

"Because there were fireworks, Kurt! Fireworks!"

"Fireworks," Kurt echoed.

"Yes! Fireworks! Booming, bright, exploding in colors of fire all over the place like the end of V for Vendetta!"

"Wow. A kiss with the power to blow up the Houses of the British Parliament," said Kurt cynically.

"You just don't know what it's like."

Kurt sent him a glare and turned away. "And what if the fireworks didn't go off for Quinn too?"

"Ah, but they did. I know they did, because she came back and asked me to meet her tomorrow in the auditorium. Like, she whispered it in my ear, you know? With her husky voice. Like a mermaid or something."

Kurt sat down on a corner of Finn's bed, arms folded over the chest. "What about Rachel? Did you talk to her?"

Finn's enthusiasm waned immediately. "Yeah, she came to the booth too, before Quinn. Told me kissing me wouldn't be weird for her because she didn't want any men in her life. But then I thought it'd be weird for me, so I kissed her on the cheek, and she got mad."

"Oh, dear."

"So I followed your advice. I... I don't want her to still be hung up on me, demanding me to forgive her, waiting for me to get back with her, because I really don't see that happening now. So I broke up with her again. I even gave her that star necklace I bought her for Christmas."

Kurt arched an eyebrow."A breakup present? Finn, my advice was about avoiding mixed signals, not giving her more of them."

Finn shook his head. "It wasn't like that. I told her it'll be good for her to be alone and focusing on her career now, like she was talking about. That I believe in her. I just don't want to be with her."

"Hmm. Brutal," said Kurt with a nod, "but hopefully effective. It's hard to say. Hope can be hard to kill."

"Oh, crap," said Finn suddenly.

"What?"

"I forgot. That serenade thing to Blaine's... whatever. It was today, wasn't it? That's why you got home so late."

"Yes. Yes, it was."

"So? How was it?"

"We were great. We truly were. Impressive performance. The shoppers loved us, danced along, applauded effusively. So much energy. I think the Warblers will really surprise you at Regionals."

"Kurt..."

"Other than that, it was an unmitigated disaster. As it turned out, Mr. Junior Manager of the Gap was neither out nor that much into Blaine. Or maybe at all. And he was certainly even less so when his ignorant boss fired him over our performance."

"Seriously?"

"Blaine told me his tragic love story afterwards. He met Jeremiah... that's the guy's name... when he went to the store to return a shirt whose buttons weren't aligned properly. Blaine was very taken by the swiftness with which the problem was solved, and I imagine also by the guy's salesman skills, since he left with not only a new perfect shirt, but also a blazer, a vest and two neckties." Kurt snorted. "Most conveniently, Blaine has several friends and relatives with birthdays in January, and he decided to gift them all with items from the Gap. In one of those shopping excursions, he arrived at the store just when Jeremiah was leaving for his coffee break, and Blaine basically invited himself to go along with him. A few more trips to the mall later, and Blaine managed to score a second coffee date. And that was last week."

"So... there was, like, nothing going on between them?"

"Apparently Blaine read way too much into the guy's determination to sell him socks, and into some perfunctory bonding over gay celebrities. It was really sad, actually."

"I don't mean to be insensitive, but... isn't that sort of good news? Means you still have a chance."

"Do I? I don't know. I'm just really confused right now."

Finn sat down beside him. "Can I help? I'm confused most of the time."

A little smile escaped Kurt for a second. "Meaning that you know the terrain and can guide me out of here?"

"Meaning that I know how it feels."

Kurt sighed. "I just... I don't get it. He thought he saw something in this guy. Something that wasn't there. And I thought I saw the same thing in Blaine, and that wasn't there either. So he was blind, and I was blind. But... how could he see the signs Jeremiah was giving him and read something into them... and at the same time give me the same signs... or even better signs... and not expect me to read them the same way he did?"

Finn's face contorted in several different ways before he admitted, "Dude, you lost me."

"They went out for coffee twice, they split the bill, and they talked about Perez Hilton. Meanwhile, Blaine and I would meet for coffee three times a week even before I transferred to Dalton. Now it's almost a daily thing. And he's paid for me a few times, and we share cookies and muffins, and we talk about everything, and we have so much in common. And he's always smiling at me and touching my arms, my shoulders, my knees, and he sang the frigging date rape song with me! And somehow Mr. Blond Hair in Dire Need of a Better Conditioner is his epic romance, and I'm nothing?"

"So... now you're thinking maybe Blaine did mean to lead you on?"

"No." Kurt shook his head vehemently. "No, he wouldn't. Absolutely not. That'd be... evil. Blaine isn't like that."

"Then, he's an idiot?"

Kurt sighed again. "Yes. Blaine Anderson is a complete and utter idiot."

"You know, Hummel, I think you called the wrong number. Why the hell do you think I'd be interested in your Sergeant Pepper's Preppy Sparrows' Pity Party?"

"It's the Warblers' Lonely Hearts Club dinner, Santana. And I thought you might not want to be the only one from the New Directions not to come."

"Then you thought wrong, 'cause I certainly don't mind being the only one with something better to do on Valentine's Day than watching a bunch of Lady Larks swaying their fannies and chirruping about never-ending love."

"I am so disappointed in you. For someone who claims to have impeccable gaydar... Really, Azimio's might be more reliable than yours." Kurt snorted, and added in a lower tone, "And that's saying something."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Kurt shook his head and refocused on the present conversation. "It means what it means. Your gay jokes only serve to make you look ignorant. Of course, I'm talking to someone who thinks misconjugating verbs makes her sound tough, so why am I surprised?"

"And when have I ever cared about your opinion? Oh, that's right... Never!"

"Good for you. Because I also don't think much of your weak attempt at pretending your current social life is any more exciting than watching the hands move around a clock all day long. You forget I still have several trustworthy informants at McKinley High."

The sound that came from the other end of the line sounded positively like a growl. "Fine! So maybe I'm not playing my A-game right now. And yet, still I'd rather die than go to your stupid glee mixer. What does that tell you?"

Kurt saw his own brow frown in his vanity mirror and then clear up as a wicked smile twisted his lips. "Oh. I'm sorry, Santana. I hadn't realized it. You have an extremely good reason not to come."

"I have a thousand reasons. Which one are you talking about?"

"Puck, of course. He's coming with someone else. Not just someone else, but Lauren Zizes. That must be soooooo embarrassing to you."

"Wait, what?"

"I totally get it. You need to protect your heart from the pain of seeing them together."

"Hummel, are you stoned? The most I get from seeing Puck with the white hippopotamus is heartburn."

"Of course, Puck will probably realize that he was the reason why you're the only one who didn't go. That you care for him so much that you'd rather spend Valentine's Day at home, all alone, crying in your bed, than face the fact that he likes someone else."

"That is a colossal load of bullshit!"

"And anyway, I suppose your heart is not the only thing you should protect. I mean, I heard how Zizes scrubbed the floor of the school with your hair yesterday."

"WHAT? I'm from Lima Heights Adjacent, you hear me? I grew up sharpening my teeth on the bones of girls like Zizes. Whatever you heard is a lie from people who piss themselves whenever I walk into a room. I put Zizes in. Her. Place. Have fun picking out her bones in tomorrow's meatloaf surprise."

"I see. Anyway, you're absolutely right. There's no way Puck will think you're heartbroken because of him. I mean, it's not like he's a conceited prick who thinks everyone wants to get in his shorts. Deep down, he's a very humble, unpretentious guy. And Zizes, she'll know better than to think you're afraid of her. Right?"

There was a very, very long pause. Kurt merely waited.

"Hummel?" Santana hissed.

"Yes?"

"You're a despicable manipulative bitch. I'm almost proud of you."

"Why, Santana, I think that might have been the sweetest thing you've ever said to me!" Kurt picked up a pen a ticked off Santana's name from the list in front of him. "Tomorrow, Breadstix, 8:00 sharp. See you there."

"Some of those Warblers had better be straight to make it worth my time."

"Most of them are," Kurt assured her. "Most of them have girlfriends too, though."

"Entirely irrelevant. By the way, Kurt... How's Finn?"

"Finn? He's not home yet, so you must have seen him the latest. Why?"

"Oh, just curious."

"If you're thinking of asking Finn to be your last resource date for Valentine's..."

"Oh, please! If I were interested in lame reruns, I'd stay home and watch Little House on the Prairie. Just thought he looked a little green earlier. You know, serial kissing is not for the untrained rookie, there's technique to it."

"Trust you to make kissing sound like a sport."

"Don't knock it 'til you try it, Cherry Lips." Next, Kurt heard the noise of Santana hanging up.

He put down his cell with a sigh. "I have tried it," he muttered. "So far, it has failed to live up to the hype."

"Who were you talking to?"

Kurt turned on his seat and found Finn standing at his door, bringing their two mugs of milk. "That must have been a very long and entertaining pyrotechnical spectacle if you only got home now."

"What?"

"Fireworks, Finn?"

"Oh. Yeah, lots of fireworks," said Finn with a lopsided smile. "I even lost track of time."

"Well, you didn't miss dinner, so it can't have been that exciting."

Finn set one of the mugs on the vanity, and sat down on Kurt's bed. "So who were you talking to? I heard my name."

"Santana. She asked about you."

"Really?" Finn's smile turned into a smirk. "I think she might have a thing for me."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Think about it. Why else would she ask about me?"

"I don't know, and if I were you, I'd be afraid to find out."

"That's because you don't know what happened between us today." Finn eyed Kurt suspiciously. "Do you?"

"Uh... Hmm. It's possible that my informants might have failed me this time. I should have a serious conversation with them. So what happened?"

"She kissed me."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Right. And this actually might be significant, if you hadn't set up a kissing booth at school."

"Yeah, but it wasn't a kissing booth kiss."

"Oh. You were not at the booth when it happened?"

"Well, no, I was. But she didn't wait in line."

"She never does."

"And she was wearing a sexy candy striper costume."

"Bizarre, but still..."

"And she didn't pay me!" Finn exclaimed triumphantly.

"Not necessarily a compliment."

"She said she couldn't help herself."

"Not necessarily personal."

"Why are you being so negative?" Finn grimaced. "Is it because she used to be with Puck? Because no girl who's been with him could possibly be interested in me?"

"No, it's because it's Santana. That girl doesn't breathe without an ulterior motive. You'd better watch your back."

"I can handle Santana."

Kurt gazed at Finn with fond exasperation, but said nothing, choosing to drink his milk instead.

"Did she call you to ask what I'll be doing on Valentine's?"

"No, I called her to tell her what she'll be doing on Valentine's," Kurt retorted. "The Warblers will be putting on a little show at Breadstix. They were pretty excited about the positive response we got from the shoppers at the Gap, and Blaine and I managed to convince the council that we have a lot to gain from offering more informal performances like that. We'll be singing songs that were voted out from the setlist for Sectionals, so we don't need much preparation. I already invited... or blackmailed... almost everyone from the New Directions. Except for you and Quinn, of course, I knew you'd be too busy to answer your phones. All of the others have confirmed their presence."

Finn frowned suspiciously. "Kurt, what are you planning?"

Kurt blinked. "Haven't I just explained it all at length?"

"Yeah, and it sounds like you found a sneaky way to spend Valentine's with Blaine. Only with two glee clubs worth of chaperones."

"It's not like that. Blaine and I talked. We cleared the whole thing up."

Finn snorted. "No, you didn't."

"Yes, we did."

"Does he know you like him?" Finn asked with a challenging tone.

"Yes."

Finn's eyes widened in shock. "You told him you like him?"

"I told him I thought he was going to ask me out."

"And...?"

"And he let me know the thought has never crossed his mind."

"Ouch."

"I know. Not exactly good news. But our friendship is too important for the both of us, and we agreed not to let it be ruined by mixed signals and foolish romantic fantasies."

"Yeah, but... won't it be weird now?"

"It doesn't have to be. I think it's better this way, with all in the open. Now he knows that I was interested, and I know he never was. We move on from that."

"Can you?"

Kurt shrugged. "If I can be your brother, then I can be his friend. It shouldn't be half as complicated. In a way, I'm relieved."

"Relieved? Why?"

"I didn't want my relationship with Blaine to be like my relationship with you last year," said Kurt frankly.

Finn looked like a deer caught in the headlights. "What?"

"I didn't know... if you knew... that I..." Kurt took a deep breath, braced himself and went on. "You wouldn't say anything. I suppose you were pretending you didn't notice how I felt... but at the time I thought you legitimately didn't understand it. Only when you yelled at me, that day when I redecorated the basement... then I knew you knew. Then I knew you had known all along."

"I... I thought that if I didn't say anything..."

"That it would all go away? That I would go away?"

"I didn't want you to go away," Finn countered. "If I did, I'd have pushed you away right from the start, without a second thought. But you've always been super smart, so I was hoping I wouldn't have to. That you'd give up eventually, and go for someone like you. Who could like you back in that way. I didn't want to say the words that would hurt your feelings, okay?"

"Why, thank you. Because it's really much more agreeable to be addressed by a homophobic slur than to be let down gently."

Finn gazed at his brother sadly. "Do we really need to keep doing this? I screwed up that day. You were getting crazy intense, and you know that, and I couldn't deal with it anymore. And okay, maybe things wouldn't have gotten so out of hand if I had manned up and told you to stop as soon as I noticed your flirting. But I can't say I'm sorry. I just can't."

"You're not sorry," Kurt echoed acidly.

"No. And you shouldn't be either. We both screwed up, and because of that, our parents are together. And they're, like, chick-movie-ending happy. And you and I, we have... this." Finn clinked their mugs together in a toast.

Kurt stared at their mugs, his face touched by a mix of surprise, affection and sadness. He remained a good couple of minutes completely still and silent, seemingly lost in thoughts. Finn tried not to fidget as he waited for his brother to show some kind of reaction.

"So, basically, 'All's well that ends well'?" Kurt murmured eventually.

"Something like that."

Kurt bit down his lower lip. "I didn't think I was still angry about this. I told you, forgiving isn't my forte."

"Are you really angry? I'm not sure you sounded angry."

"Bitter? Resentful? Whiny?"

"How about scared?"

Kurt raised his eyes to face Finn, startled.

"It's like... my left arm. I broke it jumping from a swing when I was ten. Right here." Finn changed his mug from one hand to the other, and traced a line with his finger, crossing his forearm roughly in the middle of the bone. "It's fixed now, it doesn't bother me at all. I remember that at the time I thought maybe it'd hurt when it's about to rain, like my old neighbor Mr. Koontz's hips, but no. Most of the time I don't even remember it happened. But sometimes, you know, walking past a playground, or watching Mom debone a chicken, or for whatever reason, it kinda comes back, you know? Not exactly the pain but the fear of pain?"

Kurt frowned in concentration. "So, if I'm translating your analogy correctly, the swing is you, your fractured arm is my broken heart, and Blaine is the chicken."

Finn blinked. "Uh. Yes?"

"And I'm lashing out at you because I'm petrified that I'm going to make the same mistakes I've made before, or that Blaine will do things that will dramatically sour our friendship, as it happened to us last year."

Finn gave him a big smile. "See? You totally get me."

Kurt returned the smile more timidly. "I try. There are still things about you I find rather incomprehensible, though."

"Like what?"

"Never mind."

"No, what?"

Kurt shrugged and sipped his milk.

"Come on, Kurt. What?"

"Finn... you do realize that those fireworks with Quinn might end up causing major burns for a lot of people, don't you?"

Finn's smile vanished instantly. "You mean Sam."

"For starters. I was on the phone with him about half an hour ago, and he seemed convinced that he'll be taking Quinn as his date to Breadstix tomorrow."

"He probably will," Finn grumbled. "She hasn't decided to break up with him. Yet."

"What makes you think she will?"

"She's cheating on him with me. If she loved him, she wouldn't risk hurting him."

"She's cheated on you too," Kurt pointed out.

"Before. Things are different between us now. I can feel it."

"And just how do you feel walking a mile in Puck's boots?"

"Wait, what?"

"I know you've wondered what kind of person seduces a friend's girlfriend. Now you know the answer."

Finn looked grim. "It's different. Puck's been my friend since forever. I've known Sam for, like, five months."

"And hasn't he been your friend for those five months?"

"Not the same."

"Has he done anything to deserve being hurt by you?"

Finn started saying something, but shut his mouth and looked away.

Kurt's eyes widened. "Oh my... I'm so stupid! Of course he did something. He questioned your leadership!"

"That has nothing to do with it!" Finn protested.

"Really? And you're sure those fireworks weren't actually celebrating you getting one up on the guy who's been challenging you both on glee and on the football team?"

"Quinn was my girlfriend first, remember? Sam didn't even exist back then. So don't you dare say that what I have with her isn't real."

Finn was about to stand up when Kurt grasped his wrist, squeezing it just for a moment before letting go. "Finn, I just want you to realize that this could turn into a really messy fight inside the glee club, so I hope you're sure that what you're fighting for is really worth the consequences. Okay? I don't want you to get hurt. Especially because, apparently, being the older brother implies beating up the people who hurts my younger brother, and while I'm perfectly comfortable slaughtering whoever I have to with my razor-sharp words, I don't really enjoy the thought of inflicting physical violence."

Finn's lips quirked in a lopsided smile, and nodded.

"But, let me warn you, Finn Hudson. When you see Sam and Quinn together at Breadstix tomorrow night, you are not to cause any scenes. Make no mistake, I am not so opposed to violence that I won't kick your ass into next season if you do something to mess up my Lonely Hearts Club dinner."

Finn merely rolled his eyes and sipped his milk.

"It was for charity, Mom!"

"Oh, is that what they're calling it nowadays?"

"I'm serious. The money goes to pay for the glee club's trip to Nationals."

Carole silenced her son by sticking a thermometer in his mouth. "First, I wouldn't call it charity if you're going to benefit from it yourself. Fund-raising, yes. Charity, not so much. Second, I'm sure there are other ways to raise funds that are far more effective, not to mention safer, than a kissing booth."

Finn garbled something unintelligible.

"Quiet. And third, just give me a break. You are a sweet, generous boy, but you did not come up with that scheme out of the goodness of your heart. And I'm surprised any of the teachers in that school could fall for that sorry excuse."

Finn pressed his head against the pillow, closing his eyes tightly.

"Honey, remember when you told me the thing you wanted the most in the world was a giant pool full of Skittles?"

"I wash zhust a 'ittle kidz..." said Finn around the thermometer.

"Hush... Remember what I told you then? About how that much candy would give you a tummy ache for sure?" Carole pushed her fingers through Finn's hair in a gentle caress. "And how after a while you'd get so fed up with Skittles, you wouldn't even want to see one ever again?"

Finn blushed a little and nodded.

"Anything you love won't be as enjoyable anymore if you don't treat it as something special. Kisses are to be treasured! If you kiss someone and you don't feel the butterflies in your stomach, and your heart doesn't try to jump out of your chest, and your head doesn't start spinning and your feet don't lift off the floor... oh, sweetie, then you're just not doing it right."

"Vireworgz?"

Carole smiled. "Yes. There needs to be fireworks. Lots and lots of them." She pulled out the thermometer from his mouth and checked it. "101°F. Well, it's come down a little bit. Still a long way to go, though. When I had mono, I couldn't drag myself out of bed for about three weeks. Let's hope you're luckier."

"You had mono?" Finn croaked. "But... you're a mom!"

Caroled giggled. "Moms aren't immune, you know. Especially when they're still young and careless and not moms yet."

"Here's the tea."

Carole and Finn turned to find Burt walking into the boy's room, carefully carrying a steaming mug with both hands. Finn made a face. "Ugh! Tell me that's not Kurt's green tea..."

"No, this is Kurt's honeysuckle flower tea," said Burt. "Only thing he'll drink when he has a sore throat. Apparently it's some Chinese millennial remedy, or something like that."

With a moody grunt and a lot of effort, Finn sat up on his bed, and received the mug from Burt's hands. He sniffed the liquid, and sent a pleading look to his mother.

"Come on, honey, give it a try," urged Carole. "Nothing better for a sore throat than drinking something warm."

A little sip, another grimace, and Finn tried the puppy-dog look on his stepfather instead.

Burt snorted. "Oh, you're getting no sympathy from me, kid. Not after fooling me into building that kissing booth for you."

"How could you lie to Burt like that?" asked Carole with a wounded tone.

"I didn't lie," Finn murmured.

"You said it was for the glee club," Burt pointed out.

"And it was."

Carole and Burt exchanged a wry look.

"It really was," Finn mumbled dejectedly.

"Even if I were buying that, which I'm not," said Burt seriously, "it doesn't change the fact that you knew I thought it was some sort of prop for a musical or a play, and you let me go on thinking that."

"Still, not an actual lie..."

"Really? Because I remember asking you about that 'Kiss the Quarterback' sign, and you telling me about adapting Friday Night Lights to musical theater."

Finn took a long drink of his tea without complaint.

"Okay, here I am to relieve you," announced Kurt as he barged into Finn's room, still in Dalton uniform minus the blazer, bringing another mug. "Time to go on your über-romantic date, whatever it is, so shoo!"

Carole eyed Finn with concern. "I don't know, maybe I should stay..."

"No, no, no, no!" Kurt took her by the hand and pulled her up and away from the bed. "Come on, I left my own Lonely Hearts Club dinner earlier just so you two could salvage at least some of the night. Now go, your respective outfits are waiting for you at the master bedroom. I selected them this morning before going to school. I've just laid them on the bed for you, so there's no confusion."

Burt hadn't moved. "Kurt, are you sure you can handle it? We don't have to go..."

"Yes, you do! You guys already missed your honeymoon because of one son, you're not going to miss Valentine's because of the other. Thanks to you, Dad, I have plenty experience taking care of grouchy patients. Besides, look at that sorry picture." Kurt pointed unceremoniously at Finn. "Does he look strong enough to give me trouble?"

Finn tried to glare at Kurt, but even that came out a little weak.

Burt patted Kurt on the shoulder. "All right. Come on, Carole. If we run, we can still catch Carrieri's open."

As the couple left the room, Kurt sat at the end of the bed, next to Finn's feet, grinning broadly. "I missed you tonight, you know. When I said I didn't want you to cause a scene, I didn't mean I didn't want you to be there."

"Go on, you can say it," Finn muttered. "I know you want to. Say it. 'I told you so.' Go on."

"Finn Hudson, I'll let you know that my life isn't as bleak and devoid of personal successes that I would ever feel the need to take pleasure on your misery."

Finn relaxed a little, slumping against the headboard.

"However," Kurt went on, "just for the sake of your education, I will point out that yes, you would not be in this sad situation if you had just listened to my wisdom."

Finn sent him a baleful look. "You suck."

"Oh, come on... Aren't I here, to watch over and commiserate with you?" He raised his mug. "See, I even made some honeysuckle tea for myself as well!"

"Yeah, but I bet you actually like this stuff."

Kurt shrugged. "It has a nice scent and a slight, pleasant sweetness to the palate."

Finn tried another sip, much reluctantly, and his grimace this time was just a little less emphatic than before.

Kurt breathed in the steam spiraling up from his mug, and took a drink as well. He smiled fondly at Finn. "I'm serious, you know. I'm not here to torment you. I'm sorry things didn't turn out as well as you hoped."

"Things did turn out as I hoped, actually," Finn retorted. "Up until Santana decided to meddle."

"So... what, that's your one regret? Letting Santana slip you the tongue and her germs and not even pay you for your trouble?"

"Pretty much," Finn shrugged.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah! It was totally worth it." Finn smirked at his brother. "Hey, you should set up a kissing booth at Dalton."

Kurt was horrified. "Absolutely not!"

"Why not? You're telling me you wouldn't like to have hundreds of boys lining up to kiss you?"

"For starters, the boys at Dalton might be accepting, but that doesn't make them gay. Most of them wouldn't feel any more eager to kiss me than would, say, Artie or Mike."

"Blaine would come to your booth for sure."

"No, he wouldn't. Blaine would do his best to talk me out of it. And even if he did come to the booth... if he let me kiss him under the excuse of a social event... what would that mean? Charity? Friendship? Pity? Nothing? Why would I even want any more kisses devoid of feeling?"

"Any more...? Oh, you mean Brittany?"

Kurt gulped. "Yes. Brittany." He took a long sip of his tea.

"But what if Blaine showed up at your booth, you know, not expecting anything, just to do his duty and contribute to the fund-raising... and then the moment you kissed him, boom! Fireworks!"

"Finn... You and Quinn have a history together. And she kissed you, no booth or excuse, just a week ago. Blaine and I... we don't have that. And there's nothing romantic at all about a kissing booth. Money changing hands, a line of impatient people waiting for their turn... Sorry, I just fail to see the appeal."

"So you're saying you wouldn't have come to mine if I had set it up last year?"

Kurt opened his mouth for an instant reply, but closed it a moment later. He lowered his eyes, seeming deep in thought, and didn't speak for a long while. Then, finally, he let out a little giggle.

"What?" Finn prompted.

"I was going to say, no, of course not, no frigging way. But then I realized that... after all we've talked about this week... after your putting up with my less than cheerful mood... you've earned the right to an honest, thought-out answer to that, not just a knee-jerk reaction."

Finn nodded solemnly.

"And the truth is..." Kurt gave him a tight smile. "No. I wouldn't have."

"Oh. Okay."

"Not back then, I wouldn't. But I might have now."

Finn's eyebrows climbed to meet his hairline.

"I told you, Finn, back then I thought you were clueless about me. And while part of me dreamed that you would figure it all out and give me a chance and that we'd live happily ever after in a castle of silk and mother-of-pearl, a lot of the time I was petrified that you would figure it all out and... well... that you'd react the way you did when I redecorated the basement in the old house. So... sure, I'd have thought about it, probably daydreamed about it. But if I were to come out and risk rejection, I definitely wouldn't have done it in front of the whole school. Mostly I don't care about what people think or say of me. But that doesn't mean I'm a glutton for public humiliation."

"I wouldn't have..." Finn began.

"Last year, you'd have reacted as you always did when you feared you were about to lose popularity points. And even if your response weren't as bad as I imagine it'd have been... It would still be a kissing booth, Finn. Sure, it'd have been awesome if the school could see the star quarterback being that open-minded. But as far as romance goes... Even in the best case scenario, I'd still end up with a one-dollar worth of a kiss, nothing more. And that wasn't what I wanted. I just wanted you to see me and think of me as an option." Kurt's tone was frank and even warm, with no signs of bitterness of regret.

"But now...?"

Kurt shrugged. "There is absolutely no reason why a kissing booth should be gender-oriented. If you're going to sell your kisses with no regard to race, religion or oral health, it'd be discrimination to deny me service on the account of my gender or sexuality."

Finn blinked. Several times. "You'd come to my kissing booth to... make a statement?"

"Of course!"

"You're impossible, you know that?"

"Oh, we'd have long, heated arguments about it. Before, during, after, here at home and at school. And for what is worth, Dad would probably take your side, just like he did over my unsung duet with Sam. I know he wants me to be more careful not to offend heterosexuals' sensibilities. But there's a line, you know. I'm not going to hide in a corner just waiting for straight guys to finally realize that not all my dealings with the male sex are moved by romantic or lustful aspirations."

Finn arched an eyebrow. "Dude, it's a kissing booth."

"Exactly. A kissing booth. That's about as romantic and lustful as last year's cupcake baking sale. So why should I not be allowed to go up there, hand you a dollar bill and get a kiss on my forehead?"

"Oh. Oh! On the forehead? I thought you meant..."

"Well, I think you should be ready to kiss a guy on the lips if he paid for it at a kissing booth. It's only fair."

"Some other guy, though. Not you?"

Kurt shuddered. "Who knows where that mouth of yours has been. Besides, if I ever get to kiss someone again, I want it to actually mean something. Not just my brother reluctantly giving into my pro-equality argument." He sipped his tea.

"Okay, kids, we're going."

The two boys raised their heads to see Burt and Carole at the threshold, he in a dark green dress shirt and gray woven wool trousers, she in a cobalt blue tweed dress and gray crochet scarf. Kurt looked at them up and down and nodded approvingly.

"You're sure you two can manage all by yourselves?" asked Burt.

"Yeah," said Finn, staring at Kurt with a mix of wonder and affection. "We're cool."

Carole turned to Kurt. "Please check his fever at every half an hour, and call me if it starts rising again. Or if any rashes appear. Or if there's any problem. Or if..." She sighed. "Just call me, okay?"

"Will do," Kurt promised. "Don't worry."

"And you, mister," she told Finn, leaning down to kiss the top of his head, "just rest and obey your brother. Try to come up with constructive things to do at home while you're grounded."

"Grounded? But, Mom..."

"Yes, grounded. As soon as you get better."

"Can't I serve my time while I'm sick?"

Carole patted his hand. "Nice try, sweetie."

"We shouldn't take long," said Burt.

"Yes, you should," Kurt retorted. "It's Valentine's Day."

"Either way, it's also school night, so don't be up too late." Burt placed a gentle hand on his wife's back as they stepped out of the room.

"Don't forget your coats," Kurt called after them. "Not the nylon jacket, Dad!"

The couple was already too far away for Burt's moody grumble to be understood.

When Kurt turned back to Finn, his brother still kept on staring at him with the same amazed look.

"What?" Kurt prompted.

"We really are cool, aren't we?" said Finn, as if only now realizing it.

Kurt winked at him. "Are you referring to our fabulousness as individuals, or to the relative peace in our relationship?"

Finn let out a chortle, regretting it immediately and raising his hand to circle his aching throat.

"Tea," Kurt reminded him.

Finn obeyed by having three more sips, and took a long breath before speaking again. "We still fight. Brothers do, I suppose. But that's the thing, we... we can fight. Because we're brothers, so it's okay."

"Does that mean you're not afraid of me anymore?"

"I'm afraid you might burn my clothes or poison me with your healthy food," Finn admitted. "You can be a real... uh... well..." He shrugged. "Really, you can be a real bitch when you're pissed."

Kurt waved the insult away. "Guilty as charged."

"Other than that... I don't even know why I was so freaked."

Kurt gave him a little smile and patted his socked feet in a friendly gesture. "I believe you said I was 'intense'? Poor Finn. Between me, Rachel and Quinn, you seem to really attract 'intensity'."

Finn sighed. "Rachel came to see me in the infirmary today. After Quinn left."

"And...?"

"I broke up with her."

"Again?"

"I think she really understood we're done now."

"That's what you said last time."

Finn groaned something under his breath.

"No breakup presents this time around, I hope?" Kurt asked.

"I told her about Quinn."

"Your being with Quinn never stopped Rachel from pursuing you. Not even when we all thought Quinn's baby was yours."

"But I told her... about the fireworks."

"Oh."

"With Quinn. Not with her."

"Oh..."

"And then she thanked me."

Kurt arched an eyebrow. "She did?"

"She said I gave her the strength to move on and that she was going to focus on her dreams and..."

"Right. I know how the rest of that speech goes."

"You don't think she means it?"

"I... I guess she believes she does."

Finn sighed. "Anyway. Quinn told me to figure things out with Rachel, and I did. That's done."

"Are you sure?"

"What do you mean?"

Kurt toed off his shoes and stretched his legs on the bed, crossing them at the ankles. "I don't know, it's just peculiar, Rachel and you. It's not like you're really on and off, you're just always saying goodbye. Makes me think of a couple of sweethearts on the phone that goes from midnight to the first hours of the morning saying, 'You hang up first', 'No, you hang up first', 'No, you', and on and on and on."

Finn squeezed his eyes shut. "Could we not talk about Rachel? Please?"

Kurt smiled. "Fine. I did promise not to torment you, after all. What should we talk about instead? Mind you, it'd better be something I can discuss at length, because when I say 'talk', I actually mean 'I speak, you listen'. You have to give your throat a rest."

"Tell me what happened at your Valentine's-with-the-Warblers thing. Details. All the drama, the diva meltdowns, the Warbler oddities, the New Directions' craziness... Was there a glee-off?"

"Actually, it couldn't have gone any better. It totally exceeded my own expectations. The place was crowded, the diners were all very supportive — including those I didn't blackmail into going there to support me! And we did great, if I say so myself. I was pleasantly surprised, given how hard it was to convince the Warblers to fly off the nest and let loose for a change, and how tense rehearsals were. They wanted to practice every single interaction with the diners, prepare for every single eventuality, as if the thought of having to behave naturally and spontaneously absolutely terrified them. Really, I half expected them to act like shy little robots."

"Soulless automatons."

"Finn!" Kurt slapped him on the shins. "I do not believe you've just compared the Warblers to Vocal Adrenaline! That's like comparing..." He struggled to find a suitable comparison.

"Mogwais and gremlins?"

Kurt blinked. "So I'm only a late night snack short from turning into Jesse St. James?"

"No, I mean... the Warblers could potentially become like Vocal Adrenaline... because they kinda have the whole wanting-to-be-super-perfect-and-precise thing going too... but they're better than that. They have heart." Finn grimaced. "Maybe they do multiply with water, though..."

"Finn, I beg you, don't you start with the monster-making fountain water again."

Finn smirked. "Wouldn't that be kinda cool, though? Toss one singer into the fountain and get a whole glee club..." His voice caught on his throat and he winced.

"You're supposed to be listening quietly, remember?"

With a little pout, Finn drank his tea without waiting to be told.

"Anywaaaay..." Kurt drawled. "As I was saying, rehearsals were long and detailed to the point of being a little manic. And there we were, performing the first song of the night, Silly Love Songs. The planned choreography would have us come down the stage during the bridge to walk around the tables and interact with the diners, and back when we were discussing this, the guys were so reticent... Wes kept saying it wasn't dignified, Trent said it was too cabaret, and if Blaine hadn't insisted on it with the persistence of a telemarketer, the idea would've been dismissed in the first voting round. Yes, because, you see, there were four voting rounds to decide just that."

Finn snickered.

"But when it was actually time to do it," Kurt went on, "I could barely recognize them. They were really into it. They practically ran down to shake hands with the New Directions. And I mean 'shake hands' as a euphemism. Wes the Honorable Gavel Yielder practically jumped onto Santana's lap."

"Hope he didn't kiss her."

Kurt snorted. "I don't think it went that far. A good thing, given the fact that he has a steady girlfriend. I don't know, I think it'd really ruin my image of him if I found out he was a cheater. He's so... proper! Anyway, I heard David tease him about it later, and Wes replied, with a completely straight face, that he was merely performing in character." Kurt stretched a little, trying to get more comfortable as he leaned back against the footboard. "David is one to talk, though. When we did Eagle Eye Cherry's Save Tonight, Mike got up to dance and David joined him, and the two practically waltzed all over the place."

Finn picked one of the many pillows stacked behind him and handed it to Kurt.

"Thanks," said Kurt, fluffing it a little before placing it at his back. "Of course, the weirdest moment was when we did I'm a Believer. We hadn't got to the first chorus yet when I realized I was the only one still following the choreography we had rehearsed. Everyone else was just running around and jumping up and down... I even overheard one of the diners compare us to monkeys!"

Finn's eyes widened, and he started laughing even as he winced due to the sore throat.

"What?" asked Kurt.

"The Monkees! The band, the Monkees! You know everything about music, how can you not know the Monkees?"

Kurt looked a little affronted. "I do know who they are. What's that got to do with anything?"

"I'm a Believer! It's a Monkees' song."

"No, it's Neil Diamond's. It said so in the music sheet."

"Whatever, they recorded it. It's, like, one of their biggest hits. It's the most famous version of the song."

Kurt shrugged petulantly. "I'm more familiar with the one on the first Shrek movie myself."

"Are you serious? They played it in, like, every other episode of the TV show."

"I never watched the show."

"Why not? Their stuff is like the early Beatles, and you like the Beatles."

"They're not like the Beatles. That's like saying a knockoff Gucci is like real Gucci!"

Finn rolled his eyes. "They're not a knockoff. And you'd better not dis them around Mom, 'cause she's a fan. She has all the episodes and all."

"Three words for you," said Kurt, counting them off his fingers. "Acid. Washed. Jeans. I love Carole, but she's no great arbiter of good taste."

"Well, I'm sure she loves you too, even though you're a snob."

The two brothers glared at each other.

"So," said Finn eventually. "What else did you guys sing?"

Kurt let out a long breath. "Pretty Woman. We were supposed to come down the stage after the second verse, and each of us find a lady to sing to. I sang to Mercedes, Blaine sang to Rachel, Trent sang to Tina, David sang to Brittany, Thad sang to Jeanine the waitress..."

"Isn't she, like, super old?"

"Nick and Jeff were fighting for Zizes' attention, something that didn't please Puck. The others went farther back to sing to the other diners... and Santana looked pissed that there weren't enough guys singing to her."

"Hah!" Finn grinned, pleased.

"Things got considerably calmer when we did The Police's Every Breath You Take. Slow song, and we just stood together and sang, simple as that. I think Tina was tearing up a bit."

"She's been very... emotional this week," said Finn dryly.

"It was interesting to observe all the... staring going on among the New Directions."

"Staring how?"

"Uh... Artie watching every breath Brit took, Mike watching every move Tina made, Puck watching every claim Zizes staked, Santana watching every word Brit said... to Artie... and Sam watching every smile Santana faked..."

"Sam was watching Santana?"

"Or Santana was watching him... or maybe it was nothing and I was just too focused on the lyrics. It's hard for me to just stand in place and sing, you know? I keep wanting to perform the words. Even if I'm just doo-wopping in the background."

Finn nodded.

"We also did Teenage Dream and all the songs we performed at Sectionals. And, oddly enough, our encore was When I Get You Alone."

"Wasn't that...?"

"The song we serenaded Mr. Gap with? Yes."

"And Blaine was okay with it?"

"It was his own suggestion, actually. Believe me, I was surprised too. But he said we did such a good job of it at the store, it'd be a shame not to include it in the program. I don't know, maybe he wanted to link it to better memories?" Suddenly, Kurt let out a little giggle. "At least I managed to convince him not to climb on the tables this time around."

Finn raised an inquiring eyebrow.

"Blaine has a... thing," Kurt explained. "For jumping onto the furniture while he performs. Tables, chairs, benches, sofas... I even saw him walk on the keys of a piano once." His smile vanished. "I might have slapped him on the back of his head then."

Finn snorted.

"Mangling of musical instruments aside, it's usually sort of cute. But I don't think those people would want to eat on those tables after he'd danced on them, no matter how pristine clean he keeps his shoes. Anyway... after the performance, the two glee clubs sat down and ate together, mostly peacefully."

"Mostly?"

"Thad ended up at Sam's table and they seemed to be hitting it off, but then their conversation got a little too animated... I couldn't quite hear them over the general ruckus of too many glee clubbers in one space, but I think they were talking about, uh... mountain banshees?" Kurt shrugged. "I'm not sure they were speaking entirely in English. But they got to an agreement soon enough, or so it seemed. Meanwhile, Nick and Jeff were having what appeared to be a very deep conversation with Brittany and Artie about bullfighters and bullfinches, David and Mike talked sneakers, and Wes told Mercedes, Rachel and Tina... and me, I should say... the history of the evolution of the Dalton uniform. I must say, that was fascinating. Short on the evolution per se, given that the uniform hasn't gone through that many changes over the decades, but rich on the significance of every detail and fabric option. Sadly, it was getting late and I needed to get home, so I had to leave before he got to the point when the pants went from cadet gray to battleship gray."

"You're falling in love."

"What?"

"With the Warblers. With Dalton. Your new friends. You're falling in love with your new life."

Kurt gazed at Finn in surprise, a ghost of sadness shadowing his eyes.

"It's not a bad thing," Finn reassured him. "I mean... I wouldn't want for you to be there and be miserable and friendless. You transferred there so you could be happy. Are you?"

"I... I don't know."

Finn smiled. "Getting there, then?"

Kurt twitched his lips, trying not to smile back. "I might be. Maybe. They are sort of adorable. With their own peculiar and... fussy brand of charm."

"Warbling monkeys," Finn snickered, poking Kurt's side with a gentle kick.

Kurt kicked back. "Shut up."

###

A/N: The Warblers' set list was taken from my own playlist of a capella songs:
I'm a Believer (YouTube: watch?v=-bSbn1elTpQ) by The Other Guys
Every Breath You Take (YouTube: watch?v=dDG4z1A9yKU) by The Other Guys
Pretty Woman (YouTube: watch?v=b4xZgGu6F4E) by Rockapella
Save Tonight (YouTube: watch?v=Wpvj3WmaVj8) by unknown artists. (If you recognize this version, please let me know who the performers are.)