Chapter Four

Later that evening, guilt wrapped itself around Finn's body, fluttering and shaking him like a flag in the wind, turning him inside then out, and he couldn't sleep. He'd showered until the tips of his fingers were puckered, but his bath robe was itchy and distracting against his skin. As it was barely past eleven, and he knew Kurt would still be awake, he decided to seek out some company. Breathing deeply, he knocked on his brother's door with his customary three slow, sharp taps.

"One moment," Kurt said, then opened the door with a lazy nod.

Finn took in the sight; Kurt's skin glimmered, slippery with whichever part of his routine Finn had interrupted, and his hair was swept away from his damp forehead with a toweling headband. Wearing soft, light blue pajamas, he looked so much younger and more vulnerable than he had mere hours earlier.

Plenty of thoughts ran through Finn's mind, but it was hard to sort them through, so he batted them down, like the heavy crush of furniture against plush carpet, and decided to simply talk instead.

"Kurt," he said, gently. "There's... there's something I don't understand. If..." He took a deep breath. "Why did you really get back together with him?"

Kurt sighed, resignation washing over his features. "Isn't it obvious?"

"No!" Finn said, before lowering his voice. "It's not, not to me. I mean, didn't you say the cheating had been going on, for, for weeks?"

"Yes, about that, I..." Kurt's face paled with what appeared to be shame. "It was just one occasion. Blaine was incredibly inebriated, and we full well know what sort of decisions he makes when that occurs. Anyway. He has since made it clear where his heart truly lies."

"But Kurt," Finn replied, firmly, walking past the threshold to sit on Kurt's bed. "What would you say to me if Rachel went and made out with another dude behind my back?" Pausing, he fumbled for the mug of hot cocoa on Kurt's desk and took a healthy sip. "Again," he muttered, under his breath.

Finn flinched as he watched Kurt rub his face with deep, hard circles, sinking his moisturizer into his skin.

"Well, Finn." Kurt sat down next to him, crossing his legs primly at the ankle. "That's... different."

"Why? Why is it different?"

"Because you have other options!" He said, his cheeks coloring. "Does it look like I have any other options?"

Kurt had said the same thing mere hours earlier, and it cut through Finn again to see Kurt so quiet, so passive, and so resigned to his lot in life. Briefly, he knitted his eyebrows together at the thought of what High School would have been like for him if he were gay. He knew he would have had it far, far easier than Kurt; knew his Mom would have been equally proud of him as Burt was of Kurt, knew that being tall, athletic and liable to fight with both fists and words would have helped.

Then again, he just... couldn't fathom it. Even thinking about it made his head whirl about like that weird Dreidel thing Rachel and her two Dads spun during Hannukah, and, like that weird Jewish spinning top, each direction showed him a jumbled, messy image he just didn't understand, and no, there was no way he could ever know what it was like. Even if, well, he did end up liking a guy one day, it could not begin to compare to what Kurt received on a daily basis, and yet, Kurt took everything on his tipped, held-up-high chin.

Thinking about it was horrible, making him feel guilt for Kurt and hate for himself, for what he had said and done, or not done, for Kurt, so again, Finn let his words take over.

"Last year, when I told you about backing off from Sam, you said..."

Kurt merely sighed. "That was before I knew what having a boyfriend was like. What... what it was like to have someone who knew, to walk hand in hand with me and face the adversity by my side."

"But, Blaine's..." All Finn could do was shake his head. "That isn't fair, dude!"

It wasn't. Kurt thought his life was better now, by virtue of not being tossed into cafeteria waste each day, and having a boyfriend who he liked, who was adequate, because his life was so tough it was better to have an adequate option than no option at all.

Kurt sighed again, his mouth turning up, then tipping downwards. "It's not fair, is it, Finn?"

Suddenly, tempered by the lack of impulse control which usually led him down paths that weren't the wisest routes, Finn had an idea. "Oh, hey! There's that gay bar uptown!"

"No." Kurt was empathic, punctuating each word with a shake of his index finger. "No, no, no."

"Well, why not? We could head there together? Cut loose a little?"

Kurt's eyes blazed with icy fire. "Finn. I am not going to 'cut loose'. I am not a cheater. I have no intention of cheating on Blaine. And, in my book, dancing with another guy, with intent? That's cheating, too. How could you even, even suggest that I -"

"But -"

Kurt raised his fingertip, gently sweeping it across the curve of Finn's lips. "No buts. Not now."

"Kurt!" He said, bracing his hands against his brother's chest. "Don't do that! I'm... sensitive there. From, from..."

"Windchill?" Kurt raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah," Finn sighed with relief and licked his lips reflexively. "Uh, that."

"Hm. Oh! You need to get yourself some chap stick! Go with the green tea mint. Manly, yet delicious."

Scrunching a hand in his hair, Finn blinked, knowing he was more than useless at this kind of thing, but... he would be dancing with Kurt without intent. He had danced with Kurt; it was one of his favorite memories from Junior year, seeing the swell of pride on his Mom's face, and Kurt's waving grin, and Burt's back slap and an unspoken acknowledgment that, yes, he was one of the family. They all were. Family.

Yet. The idea of dancing with Kurt again was so appealing, and the fact he never got the chance to stand up and do it in front of everyone was one of his many regrets of his actions at Junior Prom. He took a deep breath, the ghost of Kurt's fingertips still echoing across his lips with a faint tingle.

Finn felt dishonesty clench his stomach; he suspected there might be another reason why he was so eager to show how open he was with Kurt.

"I would never, ever encourage you to cheat on your boyfriend, but... perhaps you might get some, uh, interest? Realize you're not short of options?"

Kurt stood up and walked over to the door, shooting Finn a look which suggested he wanted to slam the door in his face.

"I'm not you, Finn. And I'm not a charity case. What next, make me don that hideous Hair wig again and be the starring feature in Senior Year's kissing booth extravaganza? Hey, I hear Michelle in the chess club needs a new wrist support for her carpal tunnel. Perhaps I could raise that much money with my, my gassy baby penguin face. You think, Finn. You think?"

Words tripped off Finn's tongue far, far too quickly in response. "I'll dance with you."

"And, he's treating me as a charity case again!" Kurt said, with an angry shake of his head. "Forget it. Even if I were inclined to cheat, we both know you would never be comfortable in a gay bar, Finn."

Flinching, Finn stood up and moved to wrap his arm around Kurt but paused, mid arm-stretch. Great going, offer to take your brother to a gay bar as a gesture of goodwill, and manage to stutter your words out like an idiot and end up making him feel even worse about his physical appearance and apparent lack of options.

"So," he said, changing the subject as quickly as possible, hoping to redeem himself in Kurt's eyes as quickly as he could. "Guess what! I actually have been thinking about my future."

"Oh?" Still in his bitch mode, Kurt was examining his cuticles and refusing to meet Finn's eyes. "Of course. It's all about you, isn't it?"

Finn pointedly ignored him and walked over to Kurt's desk, fiddling with a pencil, twirling it between his hands before dropping it. "Yeah. I looked online, and turns out I might get a scholarship to Kent State."

"Footballers," Kurt said, with a snort.

"It's nothing to do with football!"

"And an academic scholarship? Please. Your GPA is..."

"Kurt! Will you just let me finish!"

"Fine!"

"Okay, so, the oil company Mom's worked for, for like, forever, offers a scholarship for guys who are, like, leaders in sports and clubs, and that's me, right? Ms. Pillsbury told me about it, and you only need a GPA of, like, 2.8. I think I'm gonna give it a shot."

Kurt threw his hands up in the air. "Why does nobody offer me a scholarship?" Despite his shorter height, he still managed to stare Finn down with angry, wide eyes, reminiscent of a galaxy about to go supernova. "What do I need to do. God, I work so much harder than you, Rachel works harder than the pair of us put together, and..."

It was taking all of Finn's self-control not to shake Kurt by the shoulders and yell at him. "Will you just calm the hell down! It's partial. I'm gonna have to keep saving up, and get a part-time job on campus, but I can do this. Can't you... isn't this what you wanted? You know I didn't want to go to Buffalo, or, or end up packing urinal cakes in New York. Can't you be happy for me?"

It took him a moment to realize Kurt's eyes were watery, and his brother was trying his hardest not to cry. "Why do you always get what you want? Why is life always so easy for you?"

He drew Kurt into a hug, and to his relief, Kurt melted into his arms.

"It's not. It's not a sure thing... I don't have a 2.8 GPA, dude. I've been busting my ass this year, and I've barely got it up to 2.5"

"Sorry," Kurt said. "I know you've been working harder than ever before. Perhaps Blaine could help tutor you? US History is one of your worst subjects, and there's not much Blaine can't recount about President McKinley's assassination. He really can be... quite macabre, at times."

"McKinley was a president?" Finn laughed as Kurt's mouth gaped open in shock. "Kidding, dude. Oh my god, I wish I could have filmed your look. That was priceless."

Kurt laughed. "So... what do you think you would major in?"

"Don't..." He paused, looking down into the relaxing blue of Kurt's pajama pants, thinking of oceans, and calm to forget how angry Kurt had been mere seconds earlier; Finn knew he could flare up again without warning, something the two of them had in common. "Don't laugh at me. You know my friend Sean?"

"The quadriplegic?"

"Yeah," Finn nodded. "Though he's never been that guy to me. We had a chat last week, and I'm kind of leaning to an Associates in physical therapy."

"I'd never laugh at you, Finn. Well, not when you're being serious for once, you big dork. But, why physical therapy?"

"Well, you know how I wanna help people?" Kurt nodded, and Finn continued. "Well, seems like this way I can, but you know I don't trust myself to open my mouth, dude. Plus, I have always been good at hands-on stuff."

"Isn't the campus in Ashtabula?"

"It's only four hours away. Also, they hosted FinnFestUSA a few years back. It's, like, made for me."

"How did you find that out?"

"Wikipedia, dude. It's awesome. Oh! Oh, and it's mentioned in a Dylan song, and in that book I'm reading, On the Road, so it must be cultured and stuff for such a small town, right?"

Kurt quirked an eyebrow at him. "You read?"

"Yeah! Um, not always what I should be reading for school, but… It'll be fishing, and Lake Erie, and you know how I love the water, and it's just... cool. I think... I think I've found my place."

Kurt frowned at him. "So staying here in Lima is a no go?"

Finn nodded. The idea of staying with Kurt, another year of the two of them, was so tempting, almost too tempting, but then Blaine was always going to be around, snapping at his heels. Then again, Blaine was Kurt's boyfriend, and he had every right to be snapping at his heels, and possibly doing a lot more than that.

"Hey. I'd visit on, like, alternate weekends. Anyway. Let's talk about you, man. You really think Blaine would stay at McKinley without you there next year? That commute must be killing him."

"He said he transferred for me," Kurt paused. "That he couldn't stand to be apart from the one he loved. Really, I think there was that, but I also suspect he transferred because he had something to prove."

Finn nodded again, but couldn't understand what Blaine had to prove. If people accused him of having a charmed life, well. They hadn't met Blaine Anderson.

"The Warblers, though, well. They would welcome him back with wide open arms. And song. I talked to Wes and David on Skype the other day, and they don't know what to do without him; they said it was, well, akin to a flock of Sylvia Plaths struggling their way out of the bell jar."

"But isn't Sebastian...?"

Kurt scoffed, his Adam's apple bobbing. "Contrary to opinions you might hold, Dalton is not a gay Hogwarts. Sebastian's charms are lost on the heterosexual, teenage male, believe me."

"Noted," Finn replied. "Blaine's charms are lost on me. I'm sure he does have charms, though. Maybe... maybe I should be kinder to him?"

Smiling, Kurt rubbed Finn's back with warm circles. "That would be a start, Finn."

"You're gonna kill me for asking this, but have you two... you know, yet?"

"Nearly." Kurt shook his head. "He's not ready."

Finn didn't want to ponder what 'nearly' meant. "And you are?"

"We are not having this conversation. Ever."

"So that's a yes?"

"Finn Hudson!" He squeaked. "That is none of your business."

Finn nodded, relaxing into Kurt's touch again. "Just remember, Kurt, if you don't have that connection, it..." He paused. "It doesn't feel right. Didn't feel right to me, but, when you do..."

Kurt smiled. "Sometimes, and only sometimes, you can make so much sense." Then, his smile vanished. "I don't want to... take that step until I'm sure it's love, though. And I'm not entirely sure I know what love is, yet."

"Perhaps you need someone to show you?"

"Oh, you did not just say that. Really. I'm going to pretend I didn't hear you imbuing our lady chats with Foreigner lyrics. But, yes, so he's my only option. But that doesn't mean I'm just going to jump into bed with him because he's there."

Finn nodded. He had so many regrets about that night, no, evening, no... hour with Santana, complete with some greasy burger and layers of shame that sickened him to the stomach, and he was so glad that Kurt wasn't going to let pressure and hormones and self-doubt get the better of him, so glad that Kurt would wait, that he knew he did matter.

"Blaine isn't your only option," he whispered, softly, against the curve of Kurt's neck.

Kurt shook his head. "Not again, Finn. Please."

"Blaine is not your only option," Finn repeated. "You are fierce, and wonderful, Kurt. You could break up, hold that head up high, until someone who does show you what love is comes along." He paused. "Or... look him, honestly, in the eye, and tell him that you only have a year, and if he wants to explore other options, he can."

"No, Finn. I -"

"You're... I just don't get why everyone fawns over Blaine, when you're just..."

"Just what, Finn?"

"Well, you dress much better for a start. He looks like Urkle in those bow ties."

"Do you... Finn. Do you think he's better looking than me?"

"Is there any way to answer that question without freaking you out?"

Kurt snorted. "No. No homo, I get it. No, I get it. I'm never going to be some, some show tune lothario or..."

"What's a lothario? It sounds... dirty."

"Ruthless seducer of women. Or, er, men, I suppose."

"Oh, like Puck?"

"Finn." Kurt paused, changing the subject. "I have to ask you something. Can you answer it honestly?"

"Uh, sure," Finn replied, his pulse speeding up. "You know you can ask me anything."

"Yesterday, before I left school, Blaine, he... he asked me, and I quote, 'what's with the way Finn's looking at you these days.'" Kurt paused. "Care to enlighten me?"

Finn's heart sped up, hammering in his chest like a hummingbird's fluttering wings. "What? What way?"

"Blaine told me he knew that look, this... he said he'd never seen anyone look at me with such, such care and protection."

Finn breathed a sigh of relied. "Oh, that. Yeah. I'm just looking out for you, man. I'm happy that people are noticing."

Kurt's squeak, and his clutching arms, practically knocked Finn off his feet. "You are the best, best brother I could have ever hoped for, and," he paused, "this... means more to me than I ever thought it would."

Then, Kurt began breathing more slowly and tipped his head up slightly, eyes so bright, so close that only a millimeter of air hung between the pair of them. Finn could feel the clouds of breath from Kurt's mouth warm his face, the berry scent of his moisturizer creeping up his nose and he realized they were breathing together, slowly, steadily, and Finn gulped, having to avert his gaze, and Kurt's pajamas were so thin that he could feel the fast pound of his brother's heartbeat through the fabric. He looked down, saw the thin, dark hairs running the line of his chest through the gap in the pearly white buttons, and guiltily looked up again.

Oh. God.

With a slow smile, Kurt tipped his head up again, the tip of his nose touching Finn's, and this was just too, too much, too, too soon. In a split second, Finn knew what he had to do, and nudged the cup of cocoa on the desk with his fingertips, spilling it to the ground.

"Finn!" Kurt immediately raised a hand to his forehead with a heavy slap before turning his head around to survey the damage. "You...!"

"Oh, would you look at that," Finn said, trying to force surprise into his voice. "Clumsy me, huh? Better go get some stuff to clean it up."

"Clumsy..." Kurt trailed off, eyes downcast, and Finn knew whatever moment they'd created had probably been lost forever. That was for the best, right? "Clumsy old you."

000

"I want you to show me," Kurt said, his voice low and deep. "I want you to show me what love is."

"But I... I don't know what love is," he heard himself reply, disconnected, floating around him like a heavy gray cloud.

"Show me, then," Kurt whispered, trailing his lips across his cheek, scratching against the stubble like the needle against a vinyl record. "Show me, Finn."

"I... I don't think I can, I..."

"Ssh," was the reply, fuzzy and slow, silky and fading fast around the edges, as soft fingers dipped below the waistband of his underwear, and... "Ssh," he said, Finn feeling himself arch off the bed, and...

He awoke with a start, his hand still in his underwear, bed sheets glued to his body like saran wrap, remnants of ache and want pooling all over his body. No. No, no, no. This could not be happening. What was this, anyway? This, he had to admit, must have been about Rachel. He really didn't want her back, at least he didn't think so, so what was happening? Without Rachel's tiny, warm body in his arms, was his brain just projecting the want and the hormones onto the nearest person who was showing him kindness and care?

One wet dream did not mean he was gay, or liked guys, or, or... liked Kurt. One desperate, searching wet dream didn't mean anything. Sex ed had taught him that much, but... jealousy, and anger, and shame and fear all whirled around him, to a level he hadn't felt since Jesse's smug face had returned at the end of Junior year.

Finn squirmed, lifting the bedsheet from his body with the hand that wasn't, well, there, and glancing down at his underwear with disgust.

What made it even worse was that, unlike Rachel who would always welcome him back somehow, Kurt had clearly moved on. He didn't have any of those feelings for him any more, and he'd only ever been in love with the idea of him, not the reality. He'd be turned down, politely, gently, even if he did ever try something. And then, Rachel would know; she always did, and Blaine would know, and he would be the laughing stock of glee club, of the entire school, of all of Lima. And, oh God, what would his Mom think? What would Burt do to him?

Finn wiped his hand on the fitted sheet, pulled the tangle of bed sheets under his chin, then grabbed a pillow and pushed it over his head, hoping it would muffle his thoughts as much as it muffled his breath, but knew sleep would elude him that night. The moment they all knew what was going on in his mind, his life would be over, and Finn wasn't going to let that happen. Life for him, at the moment, was difficult enough.