A/N: I haven't been focusing on this story, because lack of reveiews lead me to believe that no one was following it. If you want chapters, you have to leave me a review. I don't mind a bad one, or suggestions for how to do better. So this one is for GleefulCanuck, who PM'd me to ask for it.

Jealousy is bred in doubts. When those doubts change into certainties, then the passion either ceases or turns absolute madness.
Francois de La Rochefoucauld

Finn's good mood held right up until we were actually at the garage. He was balancing the bag with several large French fries (enough for not only my father, but the other men at the garage), in his lap, and looked suddenly reluctant to leave the car.

I held out a hand. "Come on."

He hesitated for a second more, then nodded. "It's just going to be a quick stop, right?"

"Of course. We have to be home by 2 so I can get dinner together. Your Mom's working late again, and we are not eating take-out for the third time this week."

To make it home by two, we would be spending no more then a half hour in the garage, most of that having French fries. With that settled, he popped out of the car with no further problems.

I had called ahead, so Dad was the one to greet us in the lobby. "Hi, boys."

"Hi." Finn's voice was jerky, just like it always was when he spoke directly to Dad. "We brought a snack for everyone."

"You did?" Dad's face broke into a huge grin at the sight of the familiar bags of food. "Thanks, Finn."

"How'd you know it was me and not Kurt?" Finn's voice was strong and confident, so unlike the way it usually was in public.

"Son, Kurt would never bring me French fries. The last time he brought me a snack it was bread and this weird paste thing that looked like cat barf. And not even good bread. It had all these weird little holes in it."

I swear my father will never have even the slightest bit of culture. "It's called pita bread and hummus, and it's both healthy and delicious. But if you want to eat white starches boiled in fat and grease, who am I to tell you no?" There was no bite to my words, since Dad and I had already had this argument so many times that it had merely turned back into a conversation.

"I liked the hummus." Finn tried to play peacemaker. "It was really gross to look at, though. But the pita bread was delicious. Why doesn't our country make all these cool breads, instead of just boring old sandwich bread?"

Whatever Dad's reply would have been, it was interrupted by the rest of the mechanics bustling in, no doubt drawn by the smell of food. Finn shied a bit, stepping closer to both Dad and I, then away from me and nearly touching Dad. Interesting.

"Guys, you all know Kurt, and this is Finn, Carole's son. Finn, this is Evan, Mike, and Ronnie." He pointed at each man in turn. Finn nodded and gave them a weak wave. "Hi."

They all said hello back and jumped into the food, giving us some space. I wasn't going to eat any of it, but Finn had no problems diving in and grabbing a handful of fries. He sat down next to Dad, sharing his ketchup. "Mom said I'm supposed to tell you that she made a pot roast for dinner, so don't get pizza. Her pot roast is really good."

"Her pot roast is delicious. Finn, I think I have the right size coveralls for you, but I'm not sure. I have a pair in my office if you want to try them on. They go over your clothes. Make sure that you can bend all the way over and twist around and still be comfortable." Dad was supposed to be working on making and keeping eye contact with Finn when they spoke, but it wasn't going so well. Finn has this strange habit of looking you dead in the eyes, and still not making any connection.

This time, though, they had done pretty well. Finn was in a really good mood, and he nodded enthusiastically. "Ok. I'll do it right now."

I watched him go. "Call me if you need help." I didn't want to make it sound like Finn couldn't do it on his own, but I was 99% sure that he wouldn't be able to. Calling attention to that fact, though, especially in front of the entire garage, wouldn't do much to endear me to him, though.

Finn managed, though. Less then two minutes later, he was back out, looking just like another one of Dad's mechanics. Well, one of Dad's mechanics that I would like to do inappropriate things to over a work bench. He held his arms out to his sides. "How does this look? Is it right?"

I ran my hands briskly over his body, making sure that it looked exactly like I was checking the fit and not at all like I was groping him. There was enough room for him to maneuver freely, but not so much extra fabric that it could get caught in any of the machinery. "You look good, Cowboy."

"It's pretty comfortable." He spun in an amused circle, trying to check himself out from all angles. "Do I get a name tag on the chest?"

Dad laughed. "Of course. If you like working here after a week or so, we'll take it to the tailors, and you can have your name in either red or blue."

That was enough to please Finn. "Awesome. Um, thanks a lot for giving me a job. I'll do really good, I promise."

"I'm sure you will. I have a lot of faith in you, Finn. Now, the two of you get on home and get everything set up for Carole." He smiled at Finn, who, much to my surprise, smiled back. It wasn't a big smile, but at least it was something.

Finn bounded back into the office, shutting and locking the door behind him so he could take the coveralls off. There was no real need for him to be modest, since he wasn't going to be taking anything but the top layer off, but we were all used to Finn's new need for privacy. The locked door was new though, and certainly something that he wouldn't have done at home.

The ride home was a quiet one. Finn was staring out the window at the passing scenery, like he was going to see anything new in Lima, Ohio. He was probably still focused on the cemetery and what he had seen there. In an attempt to lighten the mood, I touched his arm. "So, you'll never guess what happened at the coffee shop."

He looked over. "Something bad?"

Before this had happened, Finn's first thought would have been that it was something wonderful. I would have sold my soul for him to be that way again, even for just a little while.

But I didn't want him to see my disappointment, so I forced myself to give him a happy smile that didn't fool either one of us. "No, nothing bad. I was getting my coffee, and some guy just knocked into me and made me spill it all down my front."

He gave me a puzzled look. "That's bad, Kurt. I thought that you said it wasn't a bad thing."

I lightly popped his shoulder, pleased when he didn't flinch away. In fact, he seemed more playful then he had in quite a while. "You hit like a girl."

"Well, I don't want to be one of those abusive boyfriends and injure your delicate skin." I lightly tickled his neck, making him laugh. "Anyway, you interrupted me. What I was going to say, was that this boy ran into me, but he felt so badly that he wanted to make it up to me and get me a new drink. So he brought it to me, with a muffin, and sat with me while I ate it. He was very, very, nice, and asked me quite a few questions about myself. He was very friendly for talking to a stranger. Very…flirty."

I has intended for this to be funny little thing that Finn and I both laughed about. Instead his eyes went wide and dark. "He was hitting on you? Was he an old guy?"

Oops. I probably should have been a little more sensitive about the age thing. "No, he was our age. His name's Blaine Anderson and he doesn't go to McKinley."

That didn't seem to make much difference, and I was already wishing that I had just kept this entire thing to myself. But it was too late. "But he was still hitting on you." Finn's voice didn't make it a question.

"He was flirting with me, yes." I tried sounding as light-hearted as possible. "Can you believe that he would do that right out in public like that? That was how I could tell that he wasn't from around here. No gay boy who wanted to live would dare do something like that."

"What did you tell him?" Finn's eyes hadn't lost any of their scary intensity.

"I told him that I already had a boyfriend, of course. Why would I possibly want another one? Cowboy, it's a full time job just taking care of you."

His eyes softened, and I knew I was finally getting through to him. "I take good care of you, too, though."

Danger avoided. "Of course you do. We have each other to take care of, and our parents. I don't need another boyfriend. But he would like to be friends. Would that be ok with you?"

"Ok, I guess. I mean, you should have friends, right? Like, gay friends, not just Glee club friends." His voice was flat, and he was back to looking out the window, giving me no clues as to his actual thoughts. Judging from his tense posture, though, they weren't nearly as generous as his words suggested.

"Are you sure? Because I don't want to do anything that would make you unhappy." I had to offer him the out, a chance to change his mind.

"I'm sure." He picked at his jeans, which were developing a hole in the knee. "Can we stop at the store and get some fancy bread? That's what we usually do when we make pot roast."

"Of course. What sort of bread do you want? French bread? Herb bread? Garlic bread?" I didn't want to fight with Finn at all, and certainly not in the car, where I couldn't reach out and touch him. We could address this further later tonight.

The usual MO would be for Finn to wait in the car while I ran into the grocery store, but Finn insisted on coming inside. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'm supposed to be braver now, and a grocery store isn't really that scary."

I suspected that there was more to it then that, but I didn't want to crush his fledging spirit. "Let's do this thing, then."

As it turned out, Finn had rather ulterior motives for wanting to go to the grocery store. By the time we made it to the front of the store, we not only had two loaves of French bread, but an extra two liter of coke, several candy bars, chocolate dipped pretzels, and a quart of French Vanilla ice cream. If I had allowed him to take a detour down the chips aisle, the damage would have been worse then that.

Carole already had the pot roast prepped and waiting in the fridge, so all I had to do was put it in the oven. But there was a salad to be made, and bread to slice, and I supposed a dessert would be welcomed by the boys in the family. Maybe some sort of tart?

"Finn, what sort of desert do you want? Or should we just have the ice cream? Finn?" I turned around, but he had disappeared. I turned the oven on and put the pot roast inside, listening for any Finn related noises. There was a small bump in the direction of the basement stairs, so maybe he had gone down to our bedroom? Maybe he was changing clothes.

Which was why it was such a shock to turn back around and find myself face to face (or, more accurately, face to chest) with Finn himself. I couldn't quite restrain the undignified squeal of surprise. "Finn, you scared the crap out of me!"

He didn't' act like he heard me. "Would you have gotten with that Blaine dude if you didn't have me? He wants you."

Too late I remembered that Finn had a jealous streak, one I had apparently just awakened. "I don't know. Finn, I met him in a coffee shop when he dumped a drink all over me. I only talked to him for a few minutes, which isn't long enough to know anything about someone. Besides, I do have you, and you're the only one I want." I wrapped my arms around him, needing the contact. "Finn? Do you understand me?"

"Yeah. You have me." He pushed me back, but not in an unkind or rough way. "When you're done with that stuff, why don't you come downstairs so we can do some stuff.

'Do some stuff' was Finn speak for 'make out'. He was so cute when he tried to be subtle like that. "Why don't you help me so I'll get done faster?"

"No, I have to….no. Just come down when you're finished. Please." The word was tacked on at the end, like he tended to do, but Finn was clearly upset this time. He was nearly vibrating with nervous energy.

Was it just me, or did Finn get a little stranger every day? Every time I thought I knew him, he had to go and confuse me again. "Ok, but I'm pretty sure this is just you trying to get out of helping with dinner."

"I'll set the table and clear it when we're done." His eyes were pleading with me to just let this go, so I gave in. "Ok, but I'm holding you to that promise."

"Kay." He vanished down into the basement without further comment.

I usually played music when I cooked, singing when I was in a particularly good mood, but today I was quiet. The vents are all connected, and sometimes you can sometimes hear what's going on in the basement if you're quiet enough and the person down there is close enough to the closets. Figuring that little gem out had been enough to cause me to immediately rearrange the room and put my bed on the opposite side of the room.

As hard as I listened, though, I couldn't hear anything. With as much time as Finn spends in that basement, he may know the trick of the vents himself. Even after Carole punishing us, he still eavesdrops on her and Dad all the time. I think it a security thing with him, knowing what everyone else was up to at all times. I'm pretty sure he spies on me as well, though I haven't been able to catch him at it.

Salad and bread didn't take too long, and my curiosity was building, so I decided that the ice cream we had just purchased would suffice for a dessert and went to go find Finn.

He was laying on the bed, his back to me, but he rolled over immediately when I came treading down the stairs. There was something a little off about the way he was looking at me, but the strangeness vanished under a layer of steely determination. "Hey, Kurt."

I usually went to him, so it was a surprise when he got up and came to me instead. "Mom and Burt aren't going to be home for a while, so we have time." He pushed forward until I was back against the wall, kissing me deeply. Well, this was an unexpected surprise.

Not as big of a surprise as what happened next, though. I was so focused on Finn's lips that I almost didn't notice his hands sliding down my body to my hips. From there, he started unfastening my belt.

I jumped. "Finn?" It came out more questioning then I wanted it to.

"Don't you want to?" He stopped so he could stare into my eyes. "We don't have to, but I thought you wanted this."

Since he could look down and see just how much I wanted this, I didn't bother denying it. "I do, but what do you want?"

"You."

There was a small sound in the back of my brain. It wasn't quite an alarm bell, more like a chime, but it was there all the same. But there was nothing to be alarmed about, was there? Finn was initiating, so he must want to do this. Though, granted, my powers of reasoning were a bit hampered by the lack of blood currently going to my brain. "I want you, too."

He grinned and my worry melted away. "Then why are we still talking?"

Good point. I let him undo my belt and drop it on the floor. One hand unbuttoned my pants and slid them down, but he made no move to actually touch me. Instead he went back to kissing. I rested my hands on his hips, but when I tried to reach for the button of his fly, he twisted expertly away. Ok, message received.

Finally, his hands started wandering down my body again. In contrast to his earlier tentativeness, he was strong and sure now, his hands whispering over my hips and reaching inside.

Never in my life had I had someone touch me like this. Never. I didn't even really like doing it to myself. How could it be so different and feel so good when it was Finn instead? It was like he knew my body better then I did, even so early in all of this.

As good as it felt, though (and oh my God, it was better then I imagined it could be), I knew that this was wrong. Whatever had suddenly happened, this wasn't my Finn, not the one I wanted. I cleared my throat. "Finn." It came out a breathy squeak.

There was no response. His head was down, his eyes locked on his hands and what he was doing. Still calm, still smooth, still….actually a little bit robotic. "Finn." This time I spoke more firmly. "Finn!" Now I was actually loud, but he still didn't respond at all.

I grabbed his hands and held them in mine, forcing him to be stop. He stilled, but he didn't look up, didn't say anything, didn't even seem to be breathing. Small tremors raced through his body.

Since calling his name hadn't helped, I just concentrated on holding his hands and hoping that he would snap out of it soon. My throat was locked shut, and there was no one to hear me if I called out anyway. I was going to have to handle this on my own.

A few seconds (or minutes, or hours.) later, Finn abruptly shook his head and pulled his hands out of mine. He was blinking hard, like he had just taken a blow to the head and was fighting to stay conscious. "Kurt?" His voice was confused, like he had just woken up from sleep. "What the fuck?"

I used his brief confusion to fasten my pants back up. "Easy, Finn. It's ok."

Another hard blink, and his eyes met mine. "I know it is. I just don't know what happened. I just wanted to…" He blushed furiously.

I found it kind of cute that, even before any of this had happened, Finn was so embarrassed by sex. Yes, he wanted it, but he didn't have the slightest idea of how to get it. A hysterical giggle bubbled up of my throat. Now that the immediate crisis had passed, the tension needed to release itself. "Why?"

"Because you wanted to. You wanted to, and I know that you'll get tired of waiting eventually, so I thought that maybe I should just do it. But then I got kind of nauseous but I didn't want to stop and then I'm not really sure what happened. Nothing good, I guess. You're kind of making the same face Mom does."

"What face is that?" My own emotions were changing so quickly that Finn could have ready any of a dozen of them on my face.

"The 'poor Finn, he's crazy' face. " Where most people would have shied away from that, Finn was remarkably straightforward about it. He sat back on the bed. "Guess I kind of freaked out, huh."

"A little bit." I snuggled up next to him, folding myself under his arm. "If you weren't ready, you shouldn't have pushed it. I've already waited almost three years for you, it's not like much longer will make a huge difference."

"I thought I was ready." The words were whispered into the top of my head. "I wanted to be ready."

"And I want to go to a school where people actually shower and aren't a bunch of philistines. Also, a starring role on Broadway. But those things will come naturally in time. I'm not going to get them right now just because I want them."

Finn gave me a weird look. "You want to transfer schools? Won't you miss everyone at McKinley?"

Ah yes, my literal minded boyfriend. "No, I don't want to transfer schools. But that wasn't really the point."

He grinned. "I know. The point was everything has a season and blah, blah, blah." He threw himself backwards, dragging me along with him. "I'm tired of it." He was getting that tone that wasn't exactly whining, just complete exasperation. "Everything I do, I see him. When I take my clothes off at night, or in the bathroom, I have to look all over the place, because I think someone might be watching. At night, I have to keep all wrapped up in the blankets, even when it's like a million degrees out, because he used to try and touch me at night. I can't even touch my boyfriend without seeing him. I want him to go away."

"I do to." Finn's face fell when I said that, and I hurried to clarify for him. "Not because of the sex thing. I told you, we can wait for that. But I hate that it makes you miserable." I spoke carefully, locked in unfamiliar waters.

"It's been three months. Three. That's almost as long as I was with him. And I had almost 17 years before that to be normal. He's not even here any more, and he's still running my fucking life! I hate him! And even if he died, that wouldn't fix anything. How long to I have to live with him staring over my fucking shoulder?"

Longer then either one of us wanted to think about, most likely. Logically, I had always known that, but it was another thing entirely to actually see it in action. Finn could get better of course, and I was positive that he would. The hurts Joseph had given him would close up and heal over; making him much closer to the man he used to be.

But not the same. He would always have scars on his mind and heart, little things that would never totally heal. All I could do was hope that he could find a way to heal around the scar tissue.

I didn't say that, though. Finn had a therapist (two, if you wanted to count our family one) and they could take care of any psychoanalyzing that he might need. I was his boyfriend, and my job was to love him as best as I could, even the parts that were damaged and thus less then loveable. I twisted my head so I could look him in the face. "I still love you."

"I love you, too." Except I don't know if I love you as much as you love me. He didn't say the words, and nothing in his eyes or face suggested them, but I heard them all the same.

Strangely, though, I was alright with it. There had been a time, really only 8 months ago, that I had thought all I would have to do would be get Finn Hudson to look twice at me, and he would fall right into my arms, just like in the movies.

What an idiot I had been.

But Finn's eyes were telling me something else, clear as day, something I would have missed if I hadn't been so familiar with his every gesture. I could though. If you can wait a little longer, and be a little more patient, I could love you just as much as you love me.

That was something I could do. Finn leaned his head down and kissed me on the nose, the gesture nearly poignant enough to bring me to tears. "Are you going to hang out with that Blaine dude?" Something about the way he said the name made it sound like a curse word.

"Yes." Finn doesn't like most people these days, so I wasn't going to let him be a downer about this. "I can go to his place if you don't want him coming over here."

He's also become very protective of the house, and doesn't want strangers invading it. We're all ok, and the members of the Glee club, but no one else. It would be a much larger problem if the only strangers who came to the house weren't the Jehovah's Witnesses who Dad couldn't legally threaten with his gun.

"No, bring him here. I don't want you going over to some guy's house when you don't know anything about him." He might be protective of his space, but Finn's a million times more protective of me. The fact that he was willing to give up his private fortress to protect me from Blaine meant more then a million declarations of love.

"I'm sure he's not dangerous, Finn. He's at least five inches shorter then I am, and probably weighs less, too. But we can come over here so you can keep an eye out if you prefer."

He blinked. "Lily was smaller then me, too. It didn't matter, because she had a tasar. I don't want to scare you, but I don't want shit to happen to you, either." Then his face broke into a goofy grin. "So, you only like tall guys?"

The change of subject was a welcome on for both of us. "Yes. Tall, dark and clumsy, with a fetish for Doritos and enough daily bacon to feed the cast of Rent for a week."

"Yeah? Well, I only like skinny guys with more make up and face stuff then most stores and who have the prettiest blue eyes in the entire world. Oh, and awesome long legs, and who can cook, and are super, super smart."

My, my did Finn know how to pour on the compliments. Just like every other man, I was melting underneath them. "Sounds like you desire a very, very specific type of man."

He caught onto the game quickly. "Uh-huh. There's only one of him in the entire world."

I kissed his cheek. "He must be very lucky then, to get you. Or have you not found him yet?"

"I did. Which is kind of neat. I mean, at least I'm good at something. It only took me 17 years to find the perfect guy, which isn't very long, since there's so many people on the planet."

Then he turned serious again. "I won't be ruined forever, you know."

"You aren't ruined now." The words were automatic, but it didn't make them any less true. The only one who was fixated on what Finn couldn't do was Finn himself. I was willing and perfectly happy to just let things happen naturally.

So's he. The only problem is that he sees 'naturally' as you getting bored with him and moving on to the next best thing. In this case, Blaine.

"You think so?"

"Of course. When something's ruined, it's forever damaged. You didn't get broken; you just got a little bent." I knew that I was terrible at offering comfort, but I tried anyway.

"No, I got a lot bent. Joseph made me almost every night." My head snapped up at his words, only to be met with Finn's all-knowing smirk. Had he really just….yes, Finn had actually made a small joke about what had happened. I couldn't believe it.

I also couldn't believe the undignified snort of laughter that spewed out of my nose. "That isn't funny, Finn!"

"Dude, you walked right into it." He smiled again, flashing the dimple on his right side.

If either one of us had needed any proof that he was getting better, this was it. There was nothing in this world less funny and more traumatic then rape, but Finn was able to find a small ray of humor. "You're ridiculous sometimes."

"Yeah, but you love me." Even if he didn't quite return the feelings, he was totally secure that they were genuine.

"I do love you."

"More then any other boy in the world?" .

"More then anyone in the world."

"Cool. Do you want to play some Mario Kart?" He slid out from under me to go retrieve the controllers, offering me the better one. They had started out exactly the same, but Finn had thrown one into the wall during a particularly vicious match with Artie, and now it was chipped on the side.

Though I normally don't care much for video games, I do have a soft spot for Mario Kart. Non violent, with pretty colors and fairly easy finger placement on the buttons. Plus, considering what he had been through today, I was willing to let Finn do whatever he wanted. "Sure."

We lay side by side on the bed, touching at the hips. My body was longer now then it had been, but still nowhere near as long as his. I turned my head and pressed gently into his shoulder, feeling the bone and muscle. "You'll be alright, Finn."

He glanced over, and I read a million things in his eyes, few of them good. When he finally spoke, it was with the heavy tone of a man who's been told that lie way too many times already. "Yeah."