Kurt POV
I've been in rather a sour mood lately, and nothing seems to help. My life right now is the best it's ever been. I have a hobby that I'm really good at, even if I still don't get the solos I want. I have actual friends. I'm doing well in school, and I'm confident of being on the A honor roll this semester. My father actually pays attention to me, instead of treating me like the ghost of my mother, and, unlike her son, Carole will not only shop with me, but she actually listens to my suggestions.
And I have Finn. Finn, who is, to quote something I don't quite believe in 'the sum of all things hoped for'. He's everything I ever fantasized about, plus everything else in the world. He's the sort of guy I could wax poetic about for hours. Sweet, gentle, willing to put up with me, hot…..
Hung.
Hung. Not to mention willing to do any number of sexual things with me, even when I was kind of acting like a prude.
So why was I so crabby? For once, my life was actually running smoothly. There were no unexpected pregnancies, no lying parents, no manipulating teachers, not even a competition in the near future. I had even made up with Mercedes.
That's your problem. Ever since you got Finn, it's been nothing but a crazy rollercoaster ride. You and him against the world. Now there's nothing for the two of you to stand together and fight for. The pressure is off, and the honeymoon is over. Finn is no longer, and shouldn't be, the focus of your very life.
As much as I complain about Miss Galinda, I have to admit that she makes some pretty good points. Finn's doctor gave him the all clear to play light sports again, and he's been spending his afternoons playing pick-up basketball or football with Puck, Mike and Matt. He doesn't wait for me to finish practice every single day like he used to, and it hurts a little bit.
Speaking of Finn, he had just reached over my shoulder to snatch a French fry off my plate. I slapped his hand. "Finn! Ask before you just grab someone else's lunch!"
He looked hurt. "But those are my fries. You always get them for me."
"That doesn't mean you can just snatch whatever you want! Try asking." Even when I was saying it, I didn't know why I was being so mean.
"Ok. Kurt, may I please have some French Fries?" There was a snip to his voice that I didn't exactly like, but I had to admit that it probably matched the one in mine.
I pushed the tray over. Finn picked at the fries, then gave me a confused look. "Are you sick or something? Because you're not acting like you."
It was nice of him not to refer to me as a raging bitch, which was probably what he wanted to do. "I'm just tired. I've been sleeping poorly, lately."
"Oh. Do you want to come over to my place and take a nap? Because I can totally change my plans for today. I'll give you a blow job to help you settle down." One eyebrow quirked happily.
"Not tonight, but call me tomorrow." My head was starting to hurt, and I didn't want to snap at Finn.
"Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me. Hey, since you're not eating anyway, do you care if I go with the guys? Puck brought a Frisbee."
That was who Finn chose to be with when he wasn't with me. Boy boys. Boys who didn't have 12 tubes of moisturizer in their bathrooms, and had closets filled with Abercrombie and Aeropostle. The kind of boys that my father wishes he had. Finn would rather go with them then stay with me. "Go ahead."
"Are you sure you're alright? Because I would totally stay with you if you wanted me to."
Great, now I had the pity vote. "Its fine, Finn. I have some work to do, and I'm not very pleasant company at the moment."
That's for sure.
"Ok. Well, if you need me, send me a text." He lumbered off; still shooting me worried looks over his shoulder.
As much as I hated to admit it, Finn had really hurt my feelings the other day when he referred to my ice cream as a treat for girls. I know he didn't mean it in a cruel way, but it stirred up all the insecurities about our relationship that I had thought I was done with. Somewhere, squashed down where I had tried to bury it, was the very real fear that the only reason Finn was with me was that I had a few (quite a few. Ok, a lot of) feminine traits. That if I were a more traditionally masculine male, he would have run the other was as fast as I could.
It's not like he makes those sort of comments often, but it's happened more then once, which tells me that, somewhere in the back of his mind, even if he doesn't consciously think about it.
And that scares me. I love Finn, and I know he loves me, but I can't help but feel like he loves me in spite of what I am, not because of it. That, given his druthers, he would much rather see me with a vagina and breasts.
Just so we're clear, I am aware that this is probably more my issue then it is Finn's. I'm also fully aware that I'm unfairly lumping Finn in with my father, and blaming him for both of them.
That was when I got my idea. If Finn loved me for me, the way he claimed, then he would have no trouble loving the new, more masculine version of me. I could get my father at the same time, and see which me they liked better. It was the best idea I had had in a long time.
No, it's insanity. It's not about which you Finn or your father likes best, it's about which you you like best. Also, its entrapment. Why don't you just act like a normal person and tell Finn that it hurts you when he says things like that? You know he never means to hurt anyone's feelings.
Of course he didn't. Finn has a mouth that's constantly running ahead of his brain (constantly running period), and sometimes things pop out. Usually, they're things that probably don't need to be said out loud, but that everyone is secretly thinking. Case in point? Him referring to Rachel as a 'slutty girl-singer' the other day. Was it rude? Totally. Do I still snicker a bit when I thing about it? Oh, yeah.
But if Finn thought I was like a girl, and had said it out loud, that meant that other people were thinking it and too polite to speak up.
Please medicate yourself. It's not only good for you, but for everyone surrounding you.
She was right. I was not going to get myself all freaked out over a single comment by Finn. How ridiculous.
I jolted as Mercedes threw herself into the chair next to me. "Kurt! Boy, you have no idea what's happening out there. It's crazy!"
"A fight?" That was the usual craziness of McKinley High. "Coach Sylvester dangling some Freshman off of a staircase? One of our many perverse couples caught having sex in the janitors closet?" It was hard to get too excited about any of that, considering that it all happened at least twice a month.
"Please. I wouldn't bother searching you out for any of that bullshit. No, it's even more amazing. Puck shaved off the Mohawk! He looks just like everyone else now."
That was news. Puck tended to that disgusting thing like it was a child. For him to shave it off was akin to Lady Gaga in a sweater set. It was like breaking down the fourth wall. "Did he say why?"
"Something about his mother giving him a bath and a mole and I honestly quit listening because it was getting creepy. That's not the really weird part, though." She was bouncing with excitement.
Noah Puckermans mother still bathed him at 16 years old, and it got weirder then that? "What's the weird part?"
"He came on to me again." She crossed her arms over her chest, smug at my horrified reaction.
"Did you tell him where he could go shove it?" I couldn't imagine her saying anything else.
"I did at first. I told him that he was a jerk who liked getting his girlfriend pregnant and then hanging her out to dry. His excuse was that she wasn't his girlfriend, she was Finn's. You know, Puck was just sleeping with her."
Because that made it soooo much better. The essential fact of the got her pregnant and hanging her out to dry didn't change, his explanation just added him (and her, don't think I'm letting Ms. Fabray off the hook here) being a cheater to the mix. "So that was when you told him to go shove it?"
She squirmed. "Not exactly. I agreed to meet him later at his place."
"Mercedes!" Words could not possibly convey how horrified I was with her. "Do I need to remind you of what happened the last time the two of you were alone together?"
"Yeah. But that isn't going to happen this time. He thinks that Mercedes Jones is fooled by him, but I'm not. That boy better watch his back, because he's getting more woman then he knows what to do with."
If anyone could tame the beast that was Noah Puckerman, it was Mercedes. "As long as you're careful, and give me all of the details when it's over."
It wasn't until she gave me a deep smile that I realized exactly what I had been missing for so long. "I will. Now give me some details about Finn." She must have read something in my face, because she was leaning forward, and dripping with sympathy. "Tell me about it."
I wasn't sure how to tell her what the problem was, especially because I wasn't sure that Finn was the problem at all. There's a pretty good chance that all of this is in my head. "Oh, I don't know. He's off running around with a Frisbee right now."
She knew that that there was more to the story, but she didn't push the matter. Instead she changed the subject. "So, is it kind of hard to get motivated in Glee lately? I don't know if it's Jesse or all the drama or what, but it's just not working as well as it used to."
I leaned back, assuming a relaxed posture. "I think we're too far away from Regionals to take it seriously. This is our time to chill out."
"I guess. But if we chill out too far, we're going to lose the Glee club entirely."
Funny, I had forgotten all about that. Glee club was just Glee club, like the football team or the Cheerios. But she was right. If we didn't bring it and win Regionals, that was it.
The bell rang before I could think of a suitable reply. I wasn't going to see Finn until Glee, though he did send me a text telling me how much he loved me. It was times like this that I felt like a jerk for ever doubting him. Why did I have to stir up trouble when none existed?
When Glee rolled around, I got my first view of two rather interesting things. First, Puck without the Mohawk. I had heard Santana telling everyone that he was no longer sexy to her, and I could see her point. It wasn't the hair, though. I mean, come one, Mohawks are so 1980. You weren't even born then, Puckerman.
No, it wasn't the hair at all. The issue was that Puck's attitude had been completely transformed. Like Samson and Delilah, once he lost his hair, he lost his swagger and confidence. Puck's greatest attribute has always been his charisma. Ok, his charisma and his abs. Good Lord, those abs. But without the hairdo, he was just another guy with a great body.
I could have offered some suggestions, but I'm never quite sure where I stand with Puck. He seems ok with Finn and I being a couple. He teases Finn about it a lot, but it really isn't very different from the way he teases Artie about Tina, or Santana about her boyfriend of the week. It didn't seem to be personal. It was just boys being boys, another thing that I couldn't quite seem to understand.
Except Puck didn't tease me like that. None of them did. The girls teased me gently about it, but the boys said nothing. They were Finn's friends, and the girls were mine, and never the twain shall meet. I feel like any of them would take up for me against an outside force, but even within the club, I might as well be one of the girls. It was Finn and the ice cream all over again.
Plus, the memory of bouncing off the innards of McKinley High's most objectionable dumpsters was still pretty fresh in my mind. So being ignored by Puck was in a lot of ways better then having him notice me. So maybe I should just keep my mouth shut and let him figure things out on his own.
The other thing was that Mercedes was onto something with her comment that no one was really motivated in Glee club. And I wasn't the only one who noticed. Rachel, looking totally manic, was already blathering away to Mr. Shue about how not everyone was participating, and she had the vocal analysis to prove it. I had to hand it to her, that girl was hard core.
I actually felt a little bad for Mr. Shuester, who looked overwhelmed by the onslaught. He held up his hands. "Ok, Rachel, sit down. And the rest of you! Is there a reason that no one feels like they should have to participate?" When no one replied, he went for the tried and true tactic of shaming us and singling out. "You do realize that the 12 of you are in danger of losing this club, right? Finn? Maybe you would like to explain why you haven't been participating for at least the past…" He looked over the papers that Rachel had presented him with. "…three days?"
He shrugged. "Why should I?" He pointed at Rachel. "I'm pissed with her." Then he pointed at Jesse. "And he's your favorite and gets all the solos I wanted."
Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner. If my suspicions were correct, Finn was far more hurt by the perception that Jesse had become the new favorite then by the solos. He needs someone, especially a man, to love him. And I knew exactly what it felt like to be replaced with the better model of child.
"Jesse is not my favorite. No one here is my favorite. He gets the solos because he's working harder then you are." Mr. Shue rubbed at his temples. "And whatever the problem is between you and Rachel, it needs to stay between you and Rachel. It's not fair to punish the entire club for it."
That was a total lie on his part. Finn was Mr. Shue's favorite, and we all knew it. But that was neither here nor there. Finn huffed. "Fine, I'll try harder. I'm doing it under protest, though."
"I appreciate it, Finn. That goes for all of you, too. Principal Figgins is just looking for a reason to shut this club down, and Coach Sylvester is more then willing to help him find one. You guys have already beaten amazing odds just to get this far, but it's not enough yet. I know you guys can win Regionals. I even think you can win Nationals. Maybe not this year, but soon. But it isn't going to happen if only part of you are willing to try. That's all I'm going to say on this matter."
"I have something to add."
Was there ever a time when Rachel didn't have something to add? I blocked her out to give Finn's shoulder an encouraging rub. He wasn't the only one who had been coasting, but he was the only one who got called out on it in front of everyone. I wouldn't have minded. Actually, I would have been delighted for the chance to argue about it, but Finn's a sensitive soul, and I knew that it would bother him. He pressed back against me, asking for more. I moved to scratching lightly while Rachel cued up another song. Really, Rachel? Miley Cyrus?
Really Kurt? You knew Miley Cyrus from the opening few notes. That's all kinds of sad.
There was nothing for me to say to that, so I concentrated on Finn, using one finger to write secrets between his shoulder blades. I'm scared you'll leave me. Sometimes I hate Rachel. I think you wish I was a girl. I'm the one who ate the last of the hot wings at my place, but I let Dad blame you. I wish I could steal your mother for a little bit and pretend that she's my mother.
Abruptly his muscles stiffened, and I wondered if he had somehow figured out what I was writing. But he was still staring at Rachel. In fact, everyone was staring at Rachel. I tuned back in, and finally heard what everyone else already had. Rachel was losing her voice. Rachel Berry was losing her voice. This was like watching the Titanic go down in flames.
She knew it, too. Her eyes grew wide and panicked, and I actually found myself feeling bad for her. She's not that bad of a person, at least when her mouth is closed, and I knew that her voice, and ability to sing, was everything to her. The collective breathes of the entire Glee Club stopped, everyone waiting for the explosion to happen.
It didn't. Instead of freaking out and blaming all of us (and I had no doubt that she would learn and master sign language on the spot, just to make sure we knew that this couldn't possibly be her own fault), she turned and ran from the room.
Finn started to stand up, then sat back and looked at me, obviously confused. He wanted to comfort her, but it was no longer his place to do so. She had Jesse for that. Speaking of, he had just rushed out after her.
We disbanded shortly after that. Without Rachel, none of us had much motivation to continue. Mercedes wanted to gossip a little more about Puck on the way out, which was fine with me, since Finn was on the phone anyway. I gave him the heads up that I would be 15 minutes or so, causing him to nod and wave me on. Ok, that was a little strange.
But I was quickly caught up in offering Mercedes my meager relationship advice, liberally sprinkled with threats of castration and other such genial mutilation if he tired to screw and leave her again. Then she got more creative, threatening all manners of cross-dressing and spreading rumors of his STD's. Who knew, with Puck they may not even be rumors. When Finn appeared out in the hallway, nearly a half hour had passed instead of the few minutes I had promised him. "Oh, Cowboy, I'm so sorry! Why didn't you come and get me?"
I gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, which he leaned down for but didn't otherwise acknowledge. "Finn? Are we doing something tonight?"
He looked so completely baffled that I wondered if I had forgotten something. "What do you mean?"
"What do you mean, 'what do I mean'? Do you have some other plans that I've not been made aware of?" It wasn't impossible that he would make alternate plans, but usually I heard about them well in advance.
"Well, yeah. Your Dad is going to pick me up any minute. Aren't you coming with us?"
I'm sorry, what? Did I have a concussion? Had I been thrust into an alternate universe? "No, I don't believe that I was invited. Just where are you and my father planning on going?"
"The ball game" My father had appeared behind me, making me jump. "Kurt, we talked about this, and you didn't want to go."
"No we didn't!" My voice did that shrill thing that it always did when my father did something like this. "You never invited me to go do the game with you. How come you invited Finn and not me?"
"Are you kidding me? Every time I sit down to watch a game, you start in on the fact that all the players are wearing stirrup pants. I thought you would be happy that I'm hanging out with Finn and not threatening him with a shotgun. Plus, you get out of doing something you hate. Kiddo, I'm not seeing the problem here."
I hated it when he looked at me like that. Like I was an idiot for wanting him to pay attention to me. "Because there's never an excuse for stirrup pants." That wasn't the point, but it was all I could get out without bursting into tears in public. This was exactly what I had been upset about earlier: I wasn't really a boy.
Or, more accurately, I was a boy, but not the right sort of boy. The right sort of boy appreciated those atrocious stirrup pants and actually wanted to sit out in the wind and sun, getting covered with bugs and screaming himself hoarse. The right sort of boy didn't worry about his skin and his hair and his clothes.
Well, guess what? I can be that boy, too. "Well, you're right. I don't want to go to the game. Have fun eating hot dogs stuffed with carcinogens and rat hair. I'll be at home enjoying a nice meal. Finn, I'll see you tomorrow. Dad, I won't be waiting up." Then I turned on my heel and marched out with all the dignity I could muster. Finn called after me, but I didn't bother turning. If he wanted to chase me down, he could. If not, screw him. You know what? No. Fuck him. There, I could start with my language. Swearing was appropriately masculine, right?
You know what? Go ahead and do this crazy thing. Then, when it fails, maybe you'll listen to me.
Never. And what did she know anyway?
Everything you do.
A hand descended on my shoulder, telling me that Finn had decided to chase me down after all. "Well, look who came running back."
But it wasn't Finn. Instead, Mercedes was looking at me with worried eyes. "Your dad is leaving without you."
"No he isn't. He's taking his new favorite son to the game." I wanted to say more, but I realized that I shouldn't. As much as I loved Mercedes, this wasn't about her. It was about me, Finn, and Dad. "I'm going home to work on my new performance. It's going to be…astounding."
She took a step back, and I couldn't quite blame her. There was something in my voice there that was reminiscent of Rachel Berry on the vitamin D. A passion that had just crossed the line into obsession. "Okaaaaay. Well, when you're done with your trip to crazy town, call me so we can pick up the pieces." She kissed me on the cheek. "Love you, Kurt."
My brain whirred at her words. That was something else that normal boys did. They loved girls. I could love girls. Not Mercedes, because that would be very nearly incest, but there were plenty of girls in this school. Girls with long silky hair, and glossy lips, and bouncing breasts and- ew, I just completely grossed myself out. Ok, girls were a no, even if they were something that normal boys thought about.
Besides, Finn wasn't looking at girls right now either. He had been into me almost since Dad had met him, and he was still the favored son. So I just had to be Finn, and Dad would like me best.
My brain spun on the ride home. I didn't have any suitably 'boy' clothes, so I would have to go shopping for some. No, wait. That was wrong already. Boys don't go shopping for clothes voluntarily. Boys just threw on whatever they found on the bedroom floor, or the things that didn't stink too badly from the laundry.
But there was somewhere that I could go to get typical boy clothes. Especially since the owner of said clothes wasn't expected to be home any time soon. I suppose I should have felt badly for stealing his things, but since Finn was stealing my father, I couldn't summon much pity.
Carole was home when I got there, and let me in. "Hey, Sweetheart. Did you not want to go to the game with Finn and your father?"
Of course I didn't want to go to the game. I would never want to pay money to see a bunch of men run around in the dirt for three hours. But that didn't mean I wouldn't have done it for Dad, or that I didn't want to be asked. "No. Apparently I'm not that sort of boy." But I would be very soon.
She gave me a long look, and I remembered that there isn't much that gets by Carole. "There are a million sorts of boys to be, and there's nothing wrong with you."
I appreciated the thought, and I had a lot of respect for Carole, but she was wrong. If there was nothing wrong with me, then why did everyone insist on acting like there was? No, the problem had to be me. "Thanks, Carole."
"No problem. Look, Kurt, I would love to hang out with you, but I have a late shift at the hospital today."
"Oh, that's fine. I just needed to run up to Finn's room and grab a few things. If that's ok with you, of course." I chose to leave out the part where I hadn't completely confirmed that it was ok with Finn himself.
"If you can find anything in that disaster area, you're a miracle worker." She seemed busy gathering up her things, so I took the hint and went upstairs.
Carole was right; Finn's room looked like a hurricane had run through it. I stepped around the empty chip bags, piles of filthy clothes, stacks of video games, and…what in the world was that? I backed away from it slowly.
Granted, Finn is much larger then I am, but he has some old clothes in a container in his closet. I've worn them a few times when my clothes have gotten snowy or wet and I was drying them. They were a little baggy, but that was good, right? Most boys didn't like wearing clothes that were too tight.
I found the box easily and pulled out my choices. They were….oh God, they were terrible. Flannel shirts, puffy vests, old T-shirts that were fraying at the neck and hem. They were not the sort of clothes that you were seen in public in.
But they were what I had to work with. I grabbed the least offensive pieces and bundled them up in a Wal-Mart bag I found on his floor. It was very nearly physically painful to think of them going on my body, but sometimes we have to suffer for the ones we love.
My preparations took the rest of the night. Who would have thought that being Finn was so hard? No wonder he was terrible at school. The poor guy didn't have anything left over to learn with.
That was harsh. Finn's terrible at school because he as a learning disability. Would you have made fun of Becky for failing? Finn might have hurt your feelings, but he didn't do it on purpose. You're not exactly being overly sympathetic now either.
Yeah. I had felt bad for that one as soon as I thought it, and I was incredibly glad that I hadn't said it out loud.
Maybe you should try improving your nasty jealousy streak and occasional cruelty before your worry about your looks.
Maybe she should just shut up. By the end of the night, I had managed to find a T-shirt (one with a Power Ranger on the front, but beggars can't be choosers. Especially when not one other shirt of his wasn't falling off of my shoulder completely.), a dark blue button up to wear over it, and an old baseball cap of my fathers. Add the loosest pair of jeans that I owned and I looked….terrible. Every time I turned around in my three way mirror, I saw less and less of whom I really was.
But that was the point. Who I really was sucked. This new person, the one I was turning into would be much better. At least I hoped so. Because, let me tell you, this was an awful lot of work for nothing.
I was already in bed when I heard Dad open the door to peek in on me. "Kurt? Son, are you awake?"
Spitefully, I squeezed my eyes shut and breathed deeply. I had told him that I wouldn't bother waiting up for him, and I fully intended to keep that promise.
Dad stood at the top of the stairs for a long time, like he was weighing his options and trying to decide whether or not to come down to me. I wanted him, too, but I had too much pride to beg, or even ask. My breath caught and held, but he stepped back and turned closed the door. Before he did, though, he whispered. "I love you, Kiddo."
I loved him, too. All of this was for him. Not for me, and not even as much for Finn, who didn't notice what he was doing half the time, much less me, but so my father would be proud and quit getting those insulting phone calls that we both pretended never happened.
I rolled over and punched the pillow restlessly. Hopefully both Dad and Finn liked the new me. Because I was pretty sure that I already hated him.