A/N: The next chapter will be the first one involving "Dream On." Usually, when I start a new episode, I rewatch it, so I can keep this story as congruent with the established timeline as I can. Sometimes it's more possible then others, but I do try.

I really was not prepared for how much seeing Cory, looking like our goofy old Finn, on screen hurt. I really thought I had a good handle on the separation of the character from the actor, but apparently not so much.

I have had many emails and reviews asking if both of these stories will be finished, and the answer is yes. Maybe not as quickly, but they will be done eventually. This one has four more episodes, and probably 15ish chapters to go.

Kurt POV

Ok, so I had gotten through my first day as a real boy. My head hurt from listening to stupid John Mellencamp for two hours while I practiced, my skin was rubbed at the collar and stomach, and it took all of my self control not to just throw myself to the ground and scream like a toddler. Oh, and I had actually drunk water out of the disgusting communal water fountain, instead of the nice sanitary water bottle that I usually carried. Before the week was out, I would probably be suffering from cholera, if not the outright black plague.

Much to my surprise, Finn didn't seem to like the changes very much. He wouldn't say anything straight out, but he had been really shocked this morning, and not in a good way. I love him dearly, but Finn's face is an open book. It certainly wasn't the welcome I had been hoping for.

Because you're acting like a freaking lunatic! How well do you think you would be taking things if he had showed up in head to toe Marc Jacobs, complete with correctly tried ascot and cuffed sleeves?

If that had happened, I would have probably jumped him the minute he entered the car. Finn in designer clothes? It was like a wet dream come true.

Ok, let me rephrase this. How would you feel if Finn showed up one morning had had turned into the male version of Rachel Berry? Bright, driven, enthusiastic, and completely not who you fell in love with. How creeped out would you be, then?

So incredibly creeped out. Not that being more driven and focused would hurt Finn any, but not at the expense of his good points. So Finn could be lazy and distractible. He was also charismatic, a natural peace maker, and a lot of fun to be around, which was more then Rachel Berry could claim.

Do you think that maybe you have some really great personality traits that you're covering up right now?

Possibly. But in my case, the new positives would far outweigh what I was losing. They had to. Because I was going to be seriously upset if I had gone through all of this for nothing.

Dad wasn't home yet, so I raided the fridge for an appropriate dinner. Let's see, what did we have? Chicken was too healthy, the steaks were still frozen and I could never be so desperate that a pork product would cross my lips. I scanned until I found a pound of hamburger that I had intended to use to make spaghetti for Finn one night. Perfect, we could make hamburgers. Grilling was suitably masculine.

I was flipping the burgers when Dad finally pulled up. He stepped out of the car with an angry look on his face. "Hey, Buddy, this is private property and you aren't allowed to just…" He trailed off and stared at me. "Kurt, is that you?"

"That would be me, Dad." Was it a good sign that Dad didn't know me? After all, I was going for a complete change. "How well done do you want this?"

"Kurt…" He stopped there, staring at me. Then he gave himself a visible shake. "Rare would be great."

The thought of there being blood inside a hamburger made me want to gag, or at least give him a lecture on the dangers of undercooked meat and all the diseases it could be carrying, but I wouldn't. That was something the old Kurt would do, and I was a new man now. "Sure thing."

"Do you want me to make a salad or something?" Dad was making the same face that Finn had this morning, the sort of look you give a snarling dog while you're backing away and looking for a large rock.

"Only if you want one for yourself. I have cheese and bacon if you want to add that."

He nodded and went inside. That was it? I had worked this hard and all he did was not and ask about salad? Come on, now. Did he have even the slightest idea of how long it took to get ready this morning? I had no idea how Finn pulled it off in under five minutes. Time travel? Worm hole? Lack of shower and other basic hygienic practices? The world might never know.

Dad still appeared rather shell-shocked when I brought the meat in. "What would you like to drink, kiddo?"

"Beer." I had to see how hard I could push this.

"Absolutely not. You're 16, not 21. Try again." The rejection was kind of reassuring. At least he was noticing me for something, since the make-over didn't seem to be doing the trick.

Manly men don't have 'make-overs'. Explain to me one more time why you feel the need to do this ridiculous thing?

I ignored her. If she already knew what I did, which was what she claimed, she already knew why I had to do this. "I'd like a Coke, please." Even if the one I had drunk with breakfast had made me nauseated until almost noon.

Once we were both served, Dad cleared his throat again. "You new look is…..a little unusual. What's up with that?"

Oh, good, he had noticed. "I'm trying out something new. What do you think?"

"Is this that ennui thing again? Because I can't think of any other reason for this?" He gestured at me with a potato chip.

"No, it isn't. I'm just expanding my horizons a bit." This was just like with Finn. I felt that I was on the defensive for no reason at all. A sudden suspicion formed. "Did you talk to Finn?"

His face told gave me the answer before he ever opened his mouth. Great, now not only did Dad like him better, but the two of them were in communication about me behind my back. "Don't even answer that, I know the truth."

"He's just worried about you. You have to admit, it's a huge change, and we both want to be sure that this is what you really want."

This was my perfect opportunity to break down and tell him that, no, this wasn't what I really wanted. It had never been what I wanted, but I was willing to do it for him and Finn. Here was my chance, handed to me on a silver platter.

As usual, my pride prevented me from just saying that. "This is exactly what I want. Why is that so hard to believe?"

Even to my own ears, the words sounded pathetic and forced. But Dad didn't

push it. "That's what matters, then."

I couldn't let the conversation fall apart this quickly. If it did, we would be left eating in awkward silence, the same way we spent 85% of our meals. Desperately, I cast about for something, anything, to bring up. "I'm singing Mellencamp for Glee."

It worked. Dad perked up immediately. "Really? Which song?"

The only one that came to mind was "Jack and Diane", also known as the Lima Loser Theme Song. I fumbled for a second, trying to come up with another title. "I don't know. The only thing I can think of is 'Jack and Diane'."

He laughed a little, his eyes crinkling at the corners. That was it, the look he got when he looked at Finn. I had been right after all. "You may not know the titles, but you know lots of John Mellencamp. When you were a baby, you used to dance to all of his tapes in the car."

We don't talk much about me being little, so I found that tidbit fascinating. "Really?"

"Yep. After we eat, I'll pull out some of my old tapes and CD's. I'll bet you'll recognize most of the tunes and lyrics."

This was what I was doing this for. To have an actual give and take conversation with Dad, one where we were both having fun. "That would be great."

I was so excited after that that I could barely finish my burger (and it was not because it was a disgusting, fat and cholesterol filled monstrosity, before you even say it Galinda. I don't care about those things any more. It was jut excitement that had me pushing it away.).

Finally the meal was over. I waited 30 seconds, then started pleading. "Can we look at the tapes now, Dad, please? I need to pick a song, then practice, then do a costume and I want to have enough time to do it all correctly?"

He laughed. "Alright, alright. There are some tapes in the car if you want to run out there, and I'll look for some CD's."

Dad's truck is always a mess, so it took me a little while to find the handful of John Mellencamp that had slid under a seat. I raced them back to the living room, holding them out hopefully. Dad took them and popped the first one in. How in the world do we even have a stereo that still has as tape player in it? "This one used to be one of your favorites."

Almost immediately, I realized that Dad was right. Every song that played was one that I recognized from commercials or movie backgrounds. "I do know these songs."

"Which one is your favorite?" Dad was watching me closely, and I got the impression that this I was about to fall into a trap.

None of them. I recognized that tunes, and I didn't doubt that I had loved them when I was small, but this type of music wasn't exactly my taste these days. These days I was more into things like Lady Gaga and other over the top things. "I don't know. Which one is your favorite?"

"I'm a fan of his early work. If I had to pick one, though, it would probably be Cherry Bomb."

There was no way in this world I was going in front of the Glee club and singing 'Cherry Bomb'. Even if it wasn't about what the title made it sound like, it was still a little bit overmuch.

But I did like 'Pink Houses'. It was in my range (though it seemed like all of his songs were), catchy and would be simple to put choreography to. Perfect.

And?

Ok, and I heard Finn singing it one night during one of his X-box marathons with the guys. The ones that I might start getting invited to now. So what?

Nothing. I think it's cute that you picked a song that Finn likes, too. It shows that you haven't had a total break with reality.

"Pink Houses. That's the one I want." The words came out kind of rushed, which tended to happen when I spoke to my father. I so seldom got his full attention that I always felt compelled to rush a little.

He didn't make any move to either leave the room or turn the music off, so I forced myself to slow down a little. "Maybe you could help me figure out what it's about?"

"It's about how the '80's were a tough decade."

Since I hadn't been alive in the '80s, and most of my functional knowledge stemmed from Madonna and what she was wearing at any given moment, that wasn't a particularly helpful comment. "Ok. I got ice cream on the way home. Phish Food. Maybe I should pick a different song, one that I'm little more connected to?"

"Sure, but I gotta be honest with you. That's pretty much what every Mellencamp song is about. But you know, let's get some ice cream. Anything to help you out."

More proof that my plan was working. So what if I was getting weird looks from everyone? Finn had hugged me in public and Dad was actually paying attention to me. They just needed a little time to get used to things, that was all.

After the ice cream, I put Dad in charge of rewinding the tape while I practiced different choreography. It wasn't as acrobatic as usual, but this sort of song required something different. Understated.

It sucked. I'm Kurt Hummel, and I do not do understated. I do over the top and wild. I did stage lights and strobes and costumes and make-up that took hours to put together in the morning.

But I soldiered, through. I didn't try and sing along, though I stayed aware of the lyrics and tried to memorize them. I would save the actual singing for later, when I had an instrumental version of the song. "How was that?"

Dad nodded approvingly. "It was excellent. You get that creativity from your mother. But are you sure that this is the song you want to do?"

"What do you mean? Is there another one that you think would be better?"

"I think that everything you do is wonderful, and 'Pink Houses' is going to be fantastic. But you don't look very happy when you're doing it. Usually you just light up when you're performing, but not this time."

The fact that he was kind of, well, right made my hackles rise. "This is the earliest stage of learning something, so pardon my lack of sparkle. You've just never been around for the first part, or any part of my practices before."

"You've never asked me to In fact, the last time I tried to see what you were doing in there with the girls, you threw me out until you were done. I don't know what you want, Kurt, unless you come out and ask me for it."

Finn never had to ask Carole for anything. She was an awesome parent who just knew when he needed something. Why couldn't Dad be like that?

Because Carole has raised Finn as a single mother for basically his entire life? She knows him better because they've had nothing but each other. Your father loves you, but he wasn't that present for the first 7 years of your life. Your mother took care of you. Besides, Carole isn't perfect, either. She just seems that way because you don't live with her. I seem to remember her telling a rather obscene lie about just what happened to Finn's father. There's no such thing as a perfect parent, so get over your thoughts of one and accept the father you have. Because, let me tell you, you could have done a lot worse.

"I want…." I trailed off with a shrug. "I don't know what I want."

What I wanted was for this to be done. "I'll let you see it when I'm done. Now please excuse me so I can Google the instrumental version for practice."

Even though I had just told him off, I couldn't help but feel disappointed when he let me leave without saying another word. If he was that worried about my state of mind, why wasn't he fighting harder?

It didn't take long for me to find and download the instrumental version, but my enthusiasm had long since waned. Instead I laid down on the bed and called Finn. It almost went to voicemail, but he managed to snag it at the last minute. "Hey, Spider Monkey! Sorry, I was on the other line with Sean."

Sean, Sean, Sean. Oh, right, Sean, his friend that I had talked to earlier today. "What's up with him?"

Finn hummed a little, and I just knew he was doing that shoulder rolling thing that he always did when he was thinking. "Not much. We were just kind of talking about you and when the three of us might get together."

I had no doubt that they were talking about me, but it probably had nothing to do with when the three of us might hang out. "So what did you decide?"

"Nothing. It's going to depend on how Glee goes and stuff like that. Maybe the day after tomorrow if you're free."

"I'm free." Actually, I wasn't. I had Cheerio's practice every day after school, except for the days that I have Glee. On those days I have it after Glee until 10 at night. Coach Sylvester says we can't be the best if we don't practice 7 days a week. It sucks sometimes, but it's nice to finally be part of a winning team.

But, despite a strong male contingent, the Cheerio's weren't manly either. Dad has totally accepted Glee club, but I could tell that he wasn't at all pleased about cheerleading. He didn't say anything directly, but I could read him well enough to know that he wished I would pick some other activity. So I didn't feel too badly about skipping practice.

"Ok, I'll call him back." There was an edge to his voice that hadn't been there before, a nervousness that I had never heard in relation to me.

"Finn?" I hated that my voice was so small and pathetic.

"Hmm." He was started to get distracted, and I knew I had to get him back on track. God, I hope those pills start improving his attention span soon, because he's currently like a 10 week old collie puppy who sees something shiny every 10 to 15 seconds.

Which meant I had a very narrow window of time to ask my questions. "Do you like the new me? Because you don't really seem to."

He blew out a long breath, making the phone sound like we were in a tornado. "There was nothing wrong with the old you. That was the dude I fell in love with, so it's really freaky to see you be someone else. It's like I'm getting ready to do it with a stranger. I love you you, not weird butch you."

He sounded tentative, like he was afraid that I might blow up at him. "So you want to break up with me just because I've changed a little."

"Whoa! I never said I wanted to break up with you!" He was speaking so quickly that he was stumbling over his words. "I wouldn't care how much you changed as long as you were happy, but you aren't. That's all I mean."

This wasn't a conversation to have on the phone. "Can we talk about this a little later?"

"Sure." I knew Finn by now, and I knew that he was scratching the back of his neck, the way he always did when he got nervous. "We should totally talk about this face to face."

Good, he got it. "Yes, we should. I'll see you tomorrow, ok?"

"Please don't be sad." The words were very soft. "I can't stand it when you're sad."

I wouldn't have used the world 'sad' to describe myself. Frustrated and confused, certainly. But sad? Was that how Finn saw me right now?

Seems to me that Finn sees you more accurately then you see yourself right now. Or are you so delusional that you actually think that you're happy like this?

"Don't worry about me, Finn. We'll get this all sorted out." I kept my voice steady.

He laughed a little into the phone, a dry sound. "I always worry about you. I love you, how can I not worry?"

That was really sweet. "I love you, too, Finn. Goodnight."

Once I had hung up, there wasn't much left to do. It was too early to go to bed, even by my strict beauty sleep standards, but I didn't want to go back up there and face my father, either. I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling, wondering just how I had gotten myself into this mess, and how I could gracefully extract myself.

After close to a half an hour, I was no closer to an answer. Maybe a hot bath would soothe my shattered nerves. Some bubble bath and a good book might help. Yes, it wasn't particularly manly, but no one could see me, and, anyway, Finn was crazy for it minus the book, so it should be fine.

While the tub was filling, I undressed and studied myself in the full length mirror hanging from the back of the closet. The sight wasn't terrible, though I s till didn't see exactly what Finn saw in me. The Cheerios had packed on some muscle, so I didn't look quite as skinny as I had. I moved with more grace and confidence, but I was still just plain old Kurt.

There was a sudden clattering at my window, making me scream like a little girl. There were a pervert looking in at me naked! I snatched my robe off the chair and wrapped it around myself. I was going upstairs and getting Dad and his shotgun. Messier then a 911 call, but much more satisfying.

My phone rang with Finn's ring as I was running around the bed. Good, if I kept him on the line, there was less chance that Chester the Molester would grab me before I got to Dad. "Finn! Finn, I'm in the basement and someone's looking at me."

"Dude, I know. It's me. Come up and let me in." He sounded breezy and not at all like he had just shaved 10 years off of my life.

My heartbeat slowed as that sunk in. The only pervert in the bushes outside was Finn. "It's you out there?"

"Yeah. Now come out and let me in before your father catches me and kills me." He was clearly pleased with himself.

Why Finn had decided to drive over this late on a school night and stare at my through my windows was questionable, but I raced up to let him in anyway. Fortunately, Dad had gone upstairs, so I didn't have to explain things.

Finn was on me as soon as the door opened, scooping me up in his arms and snuggling me close. I kissed his lips, then his cheek, then his neck. "Not that I'm ungrateful, but what are you doing here?"

It took him a minute to reply, considering how absorbed he was in sucking on the side of my neck. No complaints from over here, though, he could keep it up as long as he wanted. The preceding months have taught both of us quite a bit of finesse, and he knew how to go just hard enough to turn me on without leaving even the hint of a mark. "You said we needed to talk, but not over the phone. So I came over."

That was Finn for you. Time is rather subjective to him. "You know, it could have waited until tomorrow."

"But then I would have worried about you all night long. This is much better."

There was a certain part of me that happily agreed, especially when he started nuzzling at my jaw. I tried to get some control back. "If you don't stop that, we're not going to be doing any talking at all.

Yay!

"Ok, that works, too." His lips quirked against my skin, and I just knew that the bastard was grinning at me. "I'm fine with it."

"I'm not." I tried to gracefully disentangle myself, but he wasn't letting go. "Finn Hudson!"

"Kurt Hummel!" He lifted me off the ground again and held me there for a few seconds before gently dropping me back down. "Ok, let's go downstairs and talk. How come you're taking a bath so late at night, anyway?"

Oh, God, the bathtub! I had left it to fill, which meant it was probably flooding the basement right now. "Shit!' I turned and raced down the stairs.

Just as I had feared, there was water all over the bathroom floor. Finn lumbered down the stairs behind me. "Whoa."

He jumped through the doorway and turned the water off. "Get some towels, quick."

Once he got them, he built a quick blockade to keep the water in the bathroom, then started sopping up the mess. I supplied dry towels and took the wet ones. Finally, the worst of it was cleaned. I leaned against, Finn, not caring that his T-shirt was soaked. "Finn, you were a rock star."

"Yeah, well….I've flooded the bathroom a bunch of times. At least I know that other people do it too."

This had been the first time for me, but I let him have his moment. "Come on, I have an old shirt of yours that you can put on."

"Or take off?" He was already stripping off his shirt, and I had to look away before I did something pathetic, like jumping him right here.

"Not now, Finn." It came out soft and somehow sensual, sounding more like a promise then my trying to put him off.

He wrapped an arm around me and pulled me against his body. "Can we snuggle, then?"

For some reason, that comment made my eyes sting. "I would really like that."

"Then put something on or I will not be held responsible for any groping. My hands get minds of their own when they see you naked." He made the classic 'honk honk' gesture to prove his point.

'That's disgusting." But it was also Finn, so I couldn't put any heart into a serious complaint.

I wasn't until I was sliding some pajama pants and a T-shirt on that I realized something. I was naked under my rather thin robe, and I hadn't even noticed. Finn has seen (and touched) everything on me, but I still disliked being nude in his presence unless we were actively fooling around. But this time I hadn't even noticed it.

Finn did, though. He pressed his body along the length of mine, turning me into the little spoon, and kissed the back of my neck. "You look really good naked. You know that now." His voice was pleased, like the cat that got the cream.

I can think of some cream he could lick up.

It was easier to talk if I didn't have to look Finn in the face, so I focused on a corner of the pillow instead. "So, you wanted to talk?"

His hand slipped up under myshirt to rub my back. "Why are you doing this? You're miserable, and it's killing me to see that."

The pillow blurred. "I'm not miserable."

"You act miserable." His voice was doing that tight thing where he was getting frustrated and pissed off, but he didn't want to let me know that he was frustrated and pissed off. "I mean….did someone say something mean to you or something? Did your Dad say something?"

It was all of that and more, but really none of that either, so I shook my head. Finn moved his hand up to stroke the nape of my neck. "Did I do something? Because I'm kind of feeling like this whole thing started with me."

Technically, it had, but it wasn't fair to blame him either. I swallowed hard and tried to tell him that I had made a foolish choice all on my own and, yes, I was unhappy but I had no idea how to get myself out of this. If I backed down now, I looked foolish and pathetic and there's nothing I hate more then looking stupid. Finn doesn't seem to mind looking goofy as much, maybe he would have some tips for how to gracefully, or at least with a sense of good humor, extract myself from this entire thing.

At least that was what I wanted to say. What I actually did was burst into tears and blurt out. "You called me a girl!"

"I did what?" He seemed so genuinely baffled that I thought I might have imagined his comment. "You're not a girl and I never called you one."

"You didn't say it about me, but you said that my ice cream was for girls." When I said it out loud, it sounded incredibly stupid.

"Shit." He tried to turn me to face him, but I stiffened up and latched onto the side of the bed. This was embarrassing enough without having to be face to face.

Only I had forgotten the enormous difference between our sizes and strengths. Finn had to sit up to get the leverage he needed, but he was still able to pull me into his arms without much effort. I tucked my head under his chin and tried to calm myself down. It wasn't exactly working, even with Finn wrapped around me like a quilt. His lips were to my ear, whispering over and over. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Please, I'm sorry."

I wasn't blaming him. "It's not your fault. It's me. There's something wrong with me."

"There's nothing wrong with you. I love you, exactly the way you are." He might not really understand what my problem was, but he was trying hard to fix it.

I loved him for that. "I don't. I'm much happier like this."

"Really?" His voice was sarcastic. "Because you're dressed like something off of a mountain man special and crying about ice cream. You don't seem very happy to me."

"Ok. But you're happy." That was a weak straw to grasp for and I knew it.

"If I was happy, why would I be trying to change you back? I fell in love with the guy who likes dressing up and singing Broadway and bitching at me for eating fast food. I wouldn't trade that guy for the one you're trying to be now. Isn't that what Glee club is about? You know, that being yourself is the best part?"

Congratulations, Kurt. Finn Hudson is now officially smarter then you are.

"But I didn't like who I was." I burrowed against his body.

"Why not?" He was curious and non sarcastic.

"Because…because…." I stalled out there, because there was really no reason. It wasn't myself I was dissatisfied with so much as it was other people's reaction to myself. "I don't know!"

"That's ok. I can hang out here until you do know." He was kind, but he was also being pretty clear that he wasn't going to let me weasel out of this one.

Finn didn't say anything else, but he did keep his hand on my back, patting gently. After a few minutes, I became aware of a certain rhythm to his patting that felt a little out of place. "Finn? Are you drumming 'Any Way you Want it' on my back?

"Maybe"

Since I still wasn't quite ready to talk about the big stuff, I tried something else. "So there's nothing you like better about me now?"

He hummed a little as he thought about it. "I like the way you smell."

"You like the way I smell?" It was such an odd statement that I had to repeat it.

"Uh-huh. Usually you smell like cologne or body spray or whatever you put on in there. Now you just smell like you."

"So you think I smell better when I stink." Trust Finn to come up with that gem.

"Pretty much. Are you done crying now?"

I could probably force out a few more sobs, but that would just be delaying the inevitable. I sat up and stared at him. "Yes. So what you're telling me is that you want to break up with me."

"We just went over this. I love you. The thing is, I love you you, not creepy weird you. Don't you see the difference?"

This was a perfect opportunity to get myself out of this. Finn was starting to get frustrated, and once he was frustrated he was very easy to lead off course. If I handled this just right, he would be off and ranting about something else, and forget me, at least for long enough that I could get my thoughts together and come up with a convincing lie.

But I didn't want to. I wanted Finn to hold me and tell me again the he loved me for being me, no matter how gay or different. That he would do whatever it took to get me out of this hole I had insisted on digging myself into. "Do you really like the old me better?"

"Yeah. If I wanted to date your father, I would have asked him out. And it would have been really gross."

"What am I supposed to do?" The sheer logistics of trying to get myself out of this fix were mind boggling.

"What do you want to do? I mean, if this is the way you really want to be, I could get used to it, I guess."

He couldn't have been less enthusiastic if he tried. But it meant a lot that he would say it. I hugged him as tightly as I could. "Thank you, Finn. You're an awesome boyfriend. I'm just not sure how to get myself out of this one at school. Suggestions?"

"You don't have to say anything to anyone, you know. Or you can tell them to fuck off."

To start with, I couldn't imagine myself using the term 'fuck off' under any circumstances. Furthermore, it would be inviting instant death to do it at school. Finn's both taller and stronger then I am, and he's already proven he can handle himself in a fight, and he still gets nailed with Slushies pretty frequently. I would be mince meat. "I don't think so. Try again. You know what? Maybe we got lucky and no one really noticed me today."

If I wanted to try and make myself believe that, I shouldn't have looked at Finn when I said it. I love him, but he couldn't hide his feelings to save his life, and his expression told me everything that I needed to know. Yep, everyone had noticed, and I was going to have a miserable time living this down.

"Maybe you could tell everyone you hit your head really hard and it changed your personality. Now the swelling in your brain is over and you're back to normal?" He frowned and shook his head. "Yeah, that sounded so much better when it was still inside my head."

"I know what that feels like." As much as I teased Finn for his impulsive nature, there had been more then a few ill-conceived plans that popped out of my own brain.

Like this one?

Yeah, like this one. At least Finn knew a bad idea when he heard one. Still, he gamely tried again "Maybe-"

"Kurt?" To my horror, the basement door started opening. "Do you want to tell me why Carole's on the phone and Finn's car is parked out front? You know that he's not allowed over here this late on school nights, and especially not when I don't know he's here. Finn! Come on."

"Finn is helping me sort out my pathetic and skewed life at the moment! We're both fully dressed and not fornicating."

Once the fear of seeing us naked and mid-coitus was out of the way, he stepped onto the landing. "You can sort out your lives on the phone and not unattended together.

"Like that's going to stop us from fucking." Finn muttered the words into my neck, making me laugh a little. At this point, there wasn't much that Dad and Carole could do, short of monitoring us 24 hours a day, that would stop us from having sex.

Dad pointed. "Now, Finn. Your mother was worried about you and wants you home."

Invoking Carole was a surefire way to get Finn moving. He still grumbled, but he did get up and start looking for his shoes. "I'll see you tomorrow, Kurt. Love you. Bye, Burt."

Dad didn't bother seeing him out, since it's only 10 or so steps from the basement door to the front one. We were both quiet until I heard the car start and pull out. "I thought that I made it clear that you are not to have any sort of guest unless you let me know in advance."

"I didn't know that he was coming. I guess he was worried about me, and just came over. Then I flooded the basement and I forgot to tell you." There we go, a nice amount of truth and lie all packaged up neatly.

"You flooded the basement? How?" This was apparently going to be a long discussion, because he was coming down to sit on the bed. Crap.

"I let the tub overflow while I was letting Finn in. We got it cleaned up before it hit the carpet, though."

He rested his forehead in his hands for a second. "Did the two of you talk about what's been going on?"

"About what?" Yes, I was being deliberately obtuse, but I couldn't help it.

"About everything that's been going on. Kurt, I'm dumb, but I'm not stupid. I know that something is very wrong here, and we need to try and fix it. I mean, we both knew that you being gay was going to be a little bit of an adjustment, but this is ridiculous."

This was the moment for me to tell him the same things that I had told Finn, but my voice felt stuck. "I'm sorry I'm such a disappointment to you."

"Cut the crap. You know exactly what I mean here."

He was right. "I know! I know that I'm behaving irrationally, and neither you or Finn is to blame. You're both going beyond what you should have to to put up with me. It's just really hard for me to see you hang out with Finn and like it. I'm not saying that you don't love me, but you're friends with Finn. You and I aren't friends."

"And that's why you're acting like such a redneck?"

Until he said it, I that particular and repulsive that hadn't occurred to me. But it was a true description, even if it was an unflattering one, and I had to accept it. "Yes. You're working really hard with me, and I need you to know that I'm working hard for you."

Dear God, you make it sound like a business proposition instead of a family.

"Hey." Dad reached out and touched my shoulder. "You don't have to work, at anything Kurt. Your job is to be yourself. And my job is to love you, no matter what. That, and a majority ownership in a tire store, that's all we got."

"I love you." Now I was crying again. Dad had Carole, and Finn, and work, but I only had him.

It seems to me that you have all of those things, too, Slugger.

He squeezed me tightly. "I love you, too. Now can you please act like yourself again?"

"Yes." The two most important people in my life were telling me that they liked me better the way I had been, which was what I preferred as well? Perfection.

I'm not one of the most important people in your life? Well, screw you, too.

Galinda didn't get a say, because she wasn't a real person, just a thought in my head. Plus, she was sometimes mean to me. Granted it was usually when I deserved it the most, but still. You would think I would be a little nicer to myself.

"I'm going up to bed. If Finn Hudson crawls back in that window, or you let him back in the door, he will be greeted with my shotgun, do you understand? I am not alright with him thinking he can sneak in here whenever he feels like it."

"This is the first time he's done that and I'm sure he's actually going home, but I'll let him know." My mood was already improved by 1000%.

I waited until he was gone to hold my arms out and spin in joyful circles on the floor. Free at last, free at last! I could talk the way I liked to, have the interests I actually liked instead of the ones I was pretending to, I could wear my own clothing- my clothing!

The clock read almost 11, which was nowhere near enough time to be ready for tomorrow. Just choosing and outfit could take an hour or more, then there were accessories, ironing, face and hair prep….a million things. I hadn't even taken a shower tonight, and I was three days behind on my moisturizing routine.

Ah, it was good to be me again!