Kurt POV
Striped shirt? No, no striped shirt. Stripes were a flattering look on me, but not particularly adventurous. After two days of nothing but flannels and plain colors, I was ready for something different. Something spectacular.
After much debate, gnashing of teeth, and a mild temper tantrum. I managed to put together a white on tan outfit with a cream jacket and nice boots. Hello, Kurt, it's nice to see you again.
I wasn't the only one who thought so, either. Finn was pretty much on top of me the minute he saw me, banging his hip hard into the steering wheel and whacking his head on the ceiling of the car. "Easy, Cowboy!" I could help but laugh a little.
"I'm just excited." He was wiggling like an overeager puppy. "You're back to being you and you look perfect."
"I'm better then being the original me. I'm like Kurt 2.0."
"Upgrade." He nodded sagely and grinned. "Which parts are better?"
I leaned in close. "Smell."
He did and lit up. "You smell like you, too!"
See, I listen to Finn and his input. I had foregone the body spray this morning, specifically because Finn liked the way I naturally smelled. That did not mean forgoing a shower or deodorant, since I'm pretty sure that Finn wouldn't like that, but I was willing to make some sacrifices.
I was also willing to make out with Finn in the front seat. He had barely wanted to touch me at all in the car before. He had been too busy staring and trying not to tell me that I looked like a jackass. Even last night he had only made a token attempt at feeling me up. Now he was obsessed.
He was also trying to unbutton my pants. I started to tell him no for the millionth time, but, you know what? Screw it. "I'll make you a deal."
"Ok." He nibbled delicately on my collarbone.
"We can not do this in your driveway. What if Carole comes out? But if you sit down and behave yourself, we can pull off before the school and have some fun."
"No fucking way." He was stunned. So stunned, in fact that he sat back and stared at me instead of continuing to push.
"Yes." I took advantage of his momentary shock to put my seatbelt back on (when had he taken it off me? Damn he had gotten sneaky.) and put the car in reverse. "Pick a place."
Just as I had hoped it would, that distracted Finn long enough so that I didn't end up getting 'road head'. And, yes, I had no idea what that disgusting term meant until he explained it to me last week. I actually thought it was some sort of hair style, like bed head. Also, I would have been perfectly happy going the rest of my life under that mistaken delusion.
"Pull off at the gas station on Startown Road. It doesn't open until 8:30 since Mr. Miller had his stroke, so no one should bother us."
How did Finn know these things? "Ok."
Sure enough, the gas station was dark and quiet when I pulled around back. "If we end up getting raped and robbed, I will never let you live this one down."
"I'll protect you." He slipped out of his seatbelt and into the back seat. "Are you coming or do I have to do this by myself? Because I've already done that once this morning."
I rolled my eyes. "You are the epitome of class, Finn Hudson."
"Whatever. Do you want your dick sucked or not?"
Well, when he put it like that…I scrambled over the seat, undoing my belt as I did so. "Yes, please."
Almost immediately, we ran into problems. The Navigator is a big car, but there's no car in this world designed to accommodate two horny teenage boys.
You should have gotten the Volkswagen Van. You could have a mattress set up and everything.
"Fuck it, I'm putting down the backseat. This is a pain in the ass."
Normally all seats were kept upright, unless I had been on a serious shopping binge, but they were easy to fold. "Do it."
Once that little problem was out of the way, I was able to focus on the much biggerproblem that was currently occupying my too-tight pants. "Hurry, up, Finn."
"Bossy." He slid my pants down my legs and tossed them over the front seat. "That way there's no wrinkles."
That's why I love him. Did Finn give a crap about wrinkles? Please, have you seen the way he treats he own clothing? Did Finn know that I cared about wrinkles? Absolutely, which was why he took steps to prevent them. "I love you."
"Of course. Love you, too. Now, who goes first?" He stripped off his own jeans as he asked.
It was a fair question. 69ing was out of the question after Finn perhaps got bitten the last time we tried it. Really, it was his own fault. He just had to try doing…let's just call it something….with his finger while simultaneously deep throating me. So we were sticking with the one at a time theory for right now.
I was so hard that it hurt, but I somehow always ended up going first. "Lay back."
Even with the seats down, Finn's legs are so long that it was hard to find a good position. I'm still not 100% sure of my abilities in this area, but Finn seems to enjoy it, and, anyway, practice makes perfect, right?
I don't know if it's a Finn thing, or if any boyfriend would be the same, but he's very responsive to me. It's not always the obvious things either. I can make him shiver just by scraping my teeth across his stomach. I can get him hard just by running my fingers up and down the sides of his neck. It's a heady power trip, to know that I have control over his body like that.
But, most importantly, it's because he lets me. Finn's body is totally open to me, without hesitations or limits. He trusts me completely not to do anything to hurt him, and all I have to do is stay worthy of that trust. It's really a pretty fantastic deal.
I was mindful of the time, but I had my ways of getting the main act over quickly so I took my time with Finn, giving him slow kisses and tracing my lips and teeth over his jaw and collarbones. He hadn't taken his T-shirt off, so I had to content myself with slipping my hands up underneath it so I could rake down his back and slide up to rub his nipples. He whined softly, his back arching with pleasure.
That's the other thing that really turns me on about Finn. He's so uninhibited in his pleasure. I always feel like I have to be quiet and dignified, even right in the middle of things. He always insists that I sound sexy, but it's hard for me to let go completely, even just with him. Finn never minds making noise.
Which was a good thing, because he was starting to get loud when I scraped my fingernails lightly up his cock. "Ready?"
"Uh-huh." He gave me a dopy grin. "Totally ready."
I don't know why I even bother asking, since Finn has never turned down a blow job in his life. I took a deep breath and slowly slid my mouth down his cock. Finn stiffened, but kept himself very still. I had finally mastered deep throating, but I really had to work myself up to it. If Finn moves at all, it's still overwhelming.
He's well-trained, though, and he knows how to keep himself still until I tell him he can move. The leather of the seat in front of him creaked as his fingers dug in. "Fuck, Kurt."
I pulled back up slowly, then back down. It still took me a few minute to get used to his size, but it was easier each time. Once I had him squirming, I moved back up and concentrated on just the head. Finn's stomach jerked as he tried to catch his breath.
He's hyperventilated on me before, so I did my best to keep him calm. I ran my fingers in a circle on his inner thigh, trying to give him some alternate sensory stimulation. The first time, I tried to verbally soothe him, but that didn't work very well. Let's just say that providing more vibrations when giving someone head is a guaranteed road to causing them to almost pass out. Although, if Finn is to be believed, the resulting orgasm was worth the 10 minutes of semi-disorientation that followed.
I pulled off and looked up. The sun was starting to come up, which gave the inside of the car an almost horror-movie spookiness. Finn's eyes glittered in the semi-dark, the gold flecks sparkling in a thin ring around the foggy pupils. "You good, Finn?"
His teeth ground in frustration. "I was better 10 seconds ago! You're slaying me, Kurt."
"Nice vocabulary." He was manipulating me, thought not as subtly as he thought he was, and certainly without malice.
Sometimes Finn's a total mystery to me. Most of the time he appears to have the intelligence of the average turnip. He reads poorly, speaks slowly, and has the attention span of a gnat. He never slows down and is only quiet after a particularly good make-out session.
But then there are times like this. Finn might read poorly, but he does retain what he sees. He speaks slowly, but he remembers a word likes 'slaying' and uses it correctly when it benefits him to do so. Yes, his attention span is short, but he usually gets what he needs out of a conversation.
Despite my many months of avid Finn watching, it took me far too long to figure out that a lot of his stupidity is an act. I don't doubt that there's a few genuine problems there (and apparently several professionals agree with me), but he's capable of far more then he lets on.
He won't let anyone know that, though, not even me. He's made a few offhanded comments that suggest to me that someone, at some point, had humiliated him for getting things wrong. Finn's a big guy, but he's incredibly sensitive to criticism of any sort. He would rather everyone think he didn't care then have them find out he actually couldn't do it.
I don't know how to bring it up to him, though. No one else seems to notice, but who would? Who wants to be the one to accuse a smiley, gentle, charmer? Who thinks beyond the dumb jock persona? Finn's easygoing nature is his best camouflage.
"Kurt? Hellloooo?" Finn pointed downwards. "It's getting lonely and cold."
"Poor thing." I reached out and gave it a few strokes, making sure he stayed hard.
"Does he need me to warm him back up?"
"Yep. Also, a kiss might help." He was laughing again, and it made me laugh a little, too.
"A kiss for him or a kiss for you?" Why was I treating Finn's penis like it was its own person? It was ridiculous.
"Both. But you can kiss him first."
"How very magnamonious of you." Still, time was getting short, so I settled back down and licked his belly where his T-shirt had ridden up. He giggled helplessly and his body relaxed, which made it easier for me to take his cock back into my mouth. Since I was going for speed and not teasing, I didn't bother trying to deep throat. I just concentrated on what easily fit into my mouth and used my hand on the rest. I had discovered if I went one way with my mouth and another with my hand, it made Finn crazy.
Sure enough, I had him so worked up that he was breathing hard in just a few minutes. "Kurt, pull off."
It was nice of him to warn me, but not nesaccery. I did pull off, but just long enough to mutter. "It's ok. Just go."
I almost never swallow. It's not so much that I find the thought disgusting as me being nervous that I was going to gag or choke. That would ruin the mood pretty quickly. But millions of men managed it every single day, and I was determined to do just as well.
Luckily, I know Finn's body very well, so I had plenty of warning when he stiffened, and gasped out something that was probably intended to be a word, but just came out as a drawn out moan. I held my breath and swallowed as fast as I could. It didn't really taste any better then it had before, but we all have to suffer a bit for the ones we love.
If his contented sigh was any indication, Finn wasn't doing much suffering. He slumped down against the back of the seat, one corner of his mouth pulling up slightly. "Fuck, yeah. Car sex is totally worth the wait."
I had to kiss him. "We haven't had car sex yet."
As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I regretted them. If you give Finn an inch, he'll have drug you ten miles away before you have any idea what happened to you. In his mind, I had all but promised him the sex.
Sure enough, his eyes went wide, any trace of post-orgasmic haze disappearing. "Yet? Because I can get it back up really quick and do things to you that are….like….nasty things. Nasty, sexy things."
Eloquence is not one of Finn's more charming traits. Optimism on the other hand… "Absolutely not. I wouldn't turn down a blow job of my own, though." If I distracted Finn by providing him a task, he would quickly forget the car sex.
"I'm not forgetting about the car sex." Finn yanked off my boxer shorts. "But we'll put that idea on hold for right now. Right now, I have more important things to do."
If I'm unsure about my abilities in regards to fellatio, Finn never worries. He just goes at it the way he does everything else: tons of enthusiasm and an unshakeable belief that it would be alright in the end. His easy going attitude about giving head may be why he's so much better at it then I am.
While I like to tantalize and tease, Finn's a big believer in getting right to business. The niceties are for after. In one smooth movement, deep throated my cock, swallowing heavily. I don't know where he learned that move, but it never failed to make me gasp.
Finn had one had splayed across my hip for balance, though he wasn't leaning much weight on it. Even though the two of us were connected in the most intimate way possible, I had to reach out and wrap my fingers around his, gratified when he squeezed back. Despite having Finn for as long as I had, and his every action telling me that it wasn't true, I couldn't help but feel like he was in this because I would put out for him and the girls wouldn't. When he held my hand like this, I felt like he wanted me for me.
Then he did some trick with his teeth and my ability to think vanished. From there on out it became nothing but a blur of color and sensation, and the feeling of his body surrounding mine. I mumbled and tossed my head, not sure what I wanted him to do, or how I would find the words even if I did figure it out.
I know Finn's body, but he knows mine by now, too. He already had me on the edge, and he knew how to slide his free hand up under my shirt and pinch my nipples far harder then I would have ever thought I would like. The extra stimulation sent me careening over the edge and I bucked forward, accidentally kneeing Finn in the gut. He swore, but I barely heard it. The thought that we were doing something forbidden and could be caught at any minute was an unexpected turn on.
Finn, of course, had no trouble swallowing. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and gave me a lazy cock of his head. "We should do this every single morning."
The promise of a daily am blowjob would probably go a long way towards getting Finn motivated to go to school, but if I gave in to him now, we would be having actual sex in this car before the end of the year and that was not a place I was willing to go.
Yet.
Yet. I had no doubts that it would happen eventually, but I was hoping to save it for something like Finn's birthday, which wouldn't happen until May. Anticipation can be quite sweet, and it wouldn't hurt him to learn that lesson. "There is no way. But I wouldn't be adverse to once a week. You pick the day."
He grinned, and I fell in love all over again. Finn has the most beautiful smile, natural and easy. No matter what, he always looks like he means it, and he's the happiest guy in the world. I kissed him quickly, then flipped the light on so we could examine our clothing for any…ahem…suspicious stains. None found, I put the car in gear and headed off to school.
A good orgasm tends to be one of the only things that shuts Finn up for more then 5 minutes at a time, and we spent the rest of the ride in blissful silence. I was still going to have to give some explanations for my insanity earlier this week when I got back to school, but I was ok with pretending that it hadn't happened, at least for right now. There would be plenty of time to deal with unpleasant things.
Plus, something could always happen. Your Glee club is a walking disaster, and you seem to have drama at least once a week. Maybe by the time you get to school, everyone will have forgotten your little insanity. If not, don't worry. It'll be someone else's turn to freak out pretty soon.
That was comforting, though I really didn't want to see someone else miserable just so I could avoid a little embarrassment. I was still turning that over in my head when I got to school. Finn walked me to my first class and vanished off to remedial math, where he would spend the entire period staring blankly at the teacher and missing every problem he tried. I wanted him out of that class and so did Carole, but the school was dragging its feet. Apparently both his parent and a team of doctors emphasizing that Finn wasn't lazy or stupid, he just couldn't do it, wasn't enough for the lovely Lima school district.
This was one of the days that I didn't see Finn until Glee, which was depressing. He got lunch early and ate it while he was getting tutoring to try and bring him up to grade level. Technically that was only available to the athletes of McKinley, and since his broken arm he no longer counted, but Coach Tanaka kept covering for him so he could at least get that little extra boost. Finn certainly needed it, and it wasn't like he was the only one going. At least a quarter of the Cheerios went, including Brittany, and the vast majority of the hockey players.
I'm glad that he gets a little extra help, but it can't help but miss the big guy when he isn't around. Even though I can't touch or kiss him in public, it's still a comfort to know that he's there and could help me in a pinch.
Finn never says it, but I think he feels the same way about me. On the days that we don't see each other, he always comes to my classroom door and picks me up, rather then just meeting me in the choir room. It's his way of telling me that he loves me, even when he can't say it out loud.
I came to his right side, just like always, and kept up a light chatter as we walked. "Do you have any idea what we're going to be doing in Glee today?" Sometimes Mr. Shue will tell him things that he doesn't tell the rest of us. Mercedes had once accused Finn of being the favorite, only to have him shrug and point out that Mr. Shue told him things because he always asked in the mornings.
"Nope. He was saying something about Broadway, but he's kind of always talking about that. He thinks we sing too much Pop stuff. But that's the stuff that's fun."
Personally, I wouldn't have minded doing a little more Broadway, provided it was some of the newer stuff, and not the same things that people had been doing for the past 25 years. Finn would probably think Broadway was cooler if he was able to sing 'Dancing Through Life' from Wicked, or even something from The Little Mermaid. I had even heard rumors of a Spiderman play.
You just want to see Finn performing in Equus. Don't even pretend that you don't, you dirty boy.
Considering the reaction to our fully clothed rendition of 'Push It', I couldn't even imagine what would happen if someone got nude on stage. Not that Finn wasn't equipped for it, because he was, but no one was allowed to see him naked but me. Possessiveness, my name is Kurt Hummel.
Most of the Glee club was already present, but they were unusually quiet. Normally it sounds like a madhouse in here, but everyone was staring at something in the front of the room.
"Who's that dude?" Despite this being a performing club, it was unusual for us to have anyone actually wanting to come and watch us.
I shook my head. "I don't know." We found our seats and joined the staring. Whoever this man was, it would be revealed soon.
Mr. Shue (who was looking rather constipated) clapped his hands. "Okay, guys, listen up. This is Mr. Ryan. He's a member of the school board, and he would like to say a few words."
Alarm bells started ringing as Mr. Shue stepped to the side. He was slumped and defeated and I knew that this was going to end poorly. Finn knew it as well, and he tensed at my side.
At the last minute, he held up a hand and tried to reclaim our attention. "I just want you to listen critically, and know that what he's saying is just one of many opinions." He was doing that thing where he moved his hands a lot, which meant he was really worried.
Mr. Ryan smiled at us, and I recognized that smile as the same one I got from the hockey team right before I hit the inside of a dumpster. It was a smile that said you could do whatever you wanted, but you were already sunk. He didn't even bother with the introductions. "Take out a piece of paper." While we fumbled, he kept talking. "And on that paper, I want you to write down your biggest dream. A dream that means so much that you're afraid to admit it, even to yourself."
Next to me, Finn was scrawling rapidly, his writing blocked by his arm. No doubt that was done on purpose, but I couldn't help but try and peek anyway. What was he writing? Was I anywhere in his dreams, or would he move on without me? Even though I like to believe that I know him, Finn is more of a mystery then he first appears.
He's probably writing 'pro football player'.
I didn't think so. Finn had already told me that he wanted to be a teacher, not a football player.
That's what he thinks he can achieve. Mr. Ryan just asked for a dream.
Did there have to be a difference? I grabbed my paper and wrote a few words in tiny letters. Fashion Designer. New York. Married to Finn Hudson. Maybe having a baby? That was really four dreams instead of one, but it was what I wanted out of life. I followed Finn's example and tore the piece of paper out, folding it so it was safe from prying eyes.
I nearly jumped out of my skin when Mr. Ryan grabbed Artie's paper and crumpled it in his hand. He tossed it in the trash. "Your dream is never going to happen."
Across the room, Mr. Shue buried his face in his hands. "91% of you will spend your entire lives living in Allen County, Ohio. So unless you wrote down that your dream was to work for a mid-market health insurance provider or find an entry level job in an elderly care facility, you're going to be very disappointed."
Mercedes breathed out. "This is really depressing."
Finn poked me in the side. "Old people freak me out."
I couldn't reply to either on of them, because Mr. Ryan kept going. "I'm going to guess that a lot of your dreams involve showbiz. Well, let me tell you: Showbiz dreams are the most unrealistic of them all."
For the first time in possibly ever, Tina spoke up before anyone else. "But that's what I want to do with my life."
He was unsympathetic. "Oh, look. I'm not trying to hurt your feelings. I'm just trying to spare you the disappointment"
Mr. Shue tried to step in. "I think we get your point."
All that did was turn the viciousness on him. Finn's hand came to rest on my back, but I barely felt it. "Will Shuester is a prime example. He used to have that glimmer of hope in his eyes that I cane see right now in all of yours. He couldn't make it happen for himself, so, he now has to try and convince you all that it will happen for you. Well guess what? His dream didn't' work out. And neither will yours."
Someone started to cry, but we were all too frozen to even look. Mr. Shue stepped in. "Ok. You're done here."
Mr. Ryan wasn't going down without a fight. "You would be wise to show me some respect."
Not happening. Mr. Shue was now coming towards him. "You've said your piece. Now get out."
If anything, that seemed to please Mr. Ryan even more. "Well, Shuester, I should thank you. You've made my decision about which program to cut a lot easier." He made sure to slam Mr. Shue in the shoulder on the way out.
Mr. Shue shook his head. "Guys…." He trailed off; because there wasn't much he could say. "Why don't we just cut practice for today?"
I nodded weakly, the piece of paper crumpled and ruined in my suddenly sweaty hand. Was I asking too much? I knew the odds of being successful in New York as well as anyone else did, but someone had to succeed, right? I knew that I had the drive and talent, but who many other people felt that same way?
But you already have Finn. And what could be more important then love? A job? Please. All you have to do is not act like a moron, and you'll always have Finn.
That was true. Finn kept his hand on my back, gently guiding me from the room. "Do you want to go get an ice cream or something?"
"Sure. But a small one." I needed a little pick-me-up after today.
I don't really have a preference in ice cream, but Finn loves the place where they mix candy in the with the scoops. It was way out of our way, but since we had nothing else to do today, I agreed.
Usually I wouldn't do so, so Finn was utterly delighted by the thought. I wanted to talk about Mr. Ryan and what he said, but I gave Finn a few extra minutes to process what had happened. When he was ready, he would initiate the conversation.
It took until we both had ice cream and were seated before he decided to speak. "Mr. Shue and Mr. Ryan totally used to fuck."
I snorted French vanilla up my nose. "Excuse me?"
"Come on. That was totally a lovers spat." He took a huge bite of his cone. "Well, plus the fact that Mr. Ryan was kind of a douche, but it was really about him and Mr. Shuester. He barely even looked at us."
Trust Finn to notice something like that. I focused on the words being said, he saw the person behind them. If the two of us ever went into business together, we would be unstoppable. "I didn't notice that."
"I did. Plus, Mr. Shue looked so sad." He fussed with a napkin, and I knew he was debating whether or not to say what he was thinking. Finally he came out with it. "That's the way Quinn looks at me sometimes. Like she wishes that things had been different."
"Do you wish they could have been different?" I don't know why I keep asking questions like this, when the answer is always the same.
"Well, yeah. I wish that she had just told me that she didn't want to be together instead of fucking Puck behind my back. I really wish that she wasn't pregnant, because that's just sad for everyone. But I don't wish that I was with her instead of you, which is what you're really asking, isn't it?"
Drat, he saw right through me. "Yeah, that was pretty much what I was asking."
"You're my favorite out of everyone I ever dated."
I had to laugh. "You mean you like me better then Quinn or Rachel?" True, best out of three wasn't bad, but it wasn't the same as being, say, the best out of everyone Puck had hooked up with. Not that I wanted to hook up with Puck (the potential for STDs alone would be an immediate turn off, not to mention the overly cocky personality.), but it was nice to know that you were the best out of hundreds.
"And Sandy and Zoe." He sounded like his pride had been a bit wounded. "Oh, and there was Alexis, but she was in the third grade. She always shared her glue with me. It was delicious."
And there's your answer to what's wrong with Finn. Too much eating of the good old Elmers.
"Best out of six works for me." Now I was the one who wasn't sure if I should speak up or not. There were so many things going on right now that…no this wasn't the time. That and I was a little afraid to hear the answer.
"What do you want to ask me? You're making that worried face." Finn reached out and lightly touched my cheek. "Come on, Kurt."
"Can I see what you wrote? What's your biggest dream?"
He colored, but he reached into his pocket and produced the crumpled paper. "Yeah, sure. It's kind of stupid, though."
I unfolded it and read what he had written on the sheet. Kurt. A dog named Slim Jim. A house with an indoor swimming pool and a karaoke machine and a pinball machine. Mostly, Kurt, though.
It was such a Finn dream. The realistic- the dog, combined with the unrealistic- the pinball machine, pool, and karaoke, combined with the hopeful- me. My fingers trembled and my eyes welled as I stroked the piece of paper. "Can I keep this?"
"I guess." He seemed confused about why I would want it, but surrendered it easily. "What are you going to do with it?"
"Keep it as a memento." I already had a box hidden in the back of my closet filled with little trinkets from our time together. His hoodie that he had given me one day when it was cold, movie stubs, and about a million pictures. I could have a million more, and still never capture what it was that made Finn himself. That's love for you, seeing the things that no one else does.
"Can I see yours?"
I really liked that he asked instead of just demanding to see it. I'm naturally more private then Finn is, and he was usually respectful of that fact. "It's in the car, but yes."
"Cool. Do you really think that Mr. Ryan will cut the Glee club? Because, if he tries, Mr. Shue may need to take one up the ass for the team."
"You think he would be on bottom?" Why was I even thinking about this, much less talking about it? I didn't want to think about my teacher having a sex life period, much less, what position he might assume during the act.
Just like always, Finn took my comments as permission to get even wilder and more graphic. "Probably. Mr. Ryan acts like a top."
Don't ask it, don't ask it, don't ask it. For once, the voice in my head was my own instead of Galinda's. For the love of Gaga, don't ask it. "And what does a top act like?" Damn, I had asked it.
"You know. Bossy and demanding and always wanting to get his own way. Mr. Shue isn't like that, so he was probably on bottom." He sounded rather pleased with his logic.
"I'm bossy and demanding and always want my own way." I couldn't believe that I was continuing this disgusting conversation.
"Uh-huh. And you like being on top, so I win." Finn gave me a look that suggested I was doing nothing but proving his point.
I did like being on top, but I was surprised that he noticed. We've never talked about it, and we usually just switch every other time. "I guess that that's true. So, what does a bottom act like?"
"I don't know. Not bossy and demanding?" He took a huge bite of ice cream while he thought. "Calm?"
"So more like you?"
"Kind of. Maybe they switched it up like we do. But Mr. Ryan is a different sort of bossy then you are. You're nice bossy, he's mean bossy."
I wasn't sure if that was a comment that required a 'thank you' or a quick punch in the arm, so I tried to pull his attention in a different direction. "Do you think he'll really try and cut the club over a silly vendetta? A vendetta is-"
"I know what a vendetta is. I'm not stupid." Most of the time Finn takes a correction or explanation quietly and calmly, but occasionally he gets his dander up for no real reason. Oh, I'm sure a reason exists, but I've never been able to figure it out.
"I know you aren't. But that doesn't answer my question." I gave him a few minutes to gather his thoughts, and raised an eyebrow. "Are we in danger right now?"
"How much do you think Glee costs?" He fished a gummy bear out and chewed thoughtfully. "I mean, with everything."
It was a good question. We had no uniforms, and most of the outfits we used for performances were either rented or put together by some of the more talented member of the group. Sheet music can be expensive, but a lot of what we had had been there for years. It was only the stuff from the past few years that we needed, and that was only for group performances. For solo work we found the music on our own. "I'm not sure. What expenses do you see?"
He must have been thinking about this for a while, because he started ticking them off on his fingers almost immediately. "Room and auditorium with lights four times a week. Sheet music. Insurance. Paying Mr. Shue, but I'm not sure that they actually do that. Entry fees for competitions. Renting a bus. Hotels if we get to Nationals."
When he put it that way, I could see how our club, which only had 12 members, was eating up a lot of money when there was never enough to go around. "I didn't think about a lot of those."
"It's still not that much, though. The football team had uniforms, and mowing the grass on the stadium and equipment, and the locker room, and Coach Tanaka's golf cart, and lots of away games. And lets not even talk about what the Cheerios cost."
I couldn't tell if that was a deliberate dig or not. After that first day, when he told me I could do whatever I wanted to, we had never really discussed me being on the team. I told him things, and he feigned a polite interest, much like the one I feigned when he talked about sports, and that was that.
But I know that it bugs him. His anger at Coach Sylvester has turned from a raging fire to a simmering ember, but it's still there, and I have no doubt that it can be rekindled. I also have no doubt that a part of him is very angry with me for not standing with him and telling Coach Sylvester to go screw herself when she wanted me on the squad. I think it says a lot for his growing maturity that he's been as quiet about things as he has.
So far. I'm telling you right now, you don't want to be around when this one explodes. And trust me, Kurt, he's going to.
Over what? As far as I could tell, Finn was having the best time of his life right now. He was the star of the Glee club, he had Dad to take him to sports games, he was getting laid regularly, and he was at least getting the tools to improve himself in school, even if it hadn't quite happened yet. What could he possibly have to be upset about?
The fact that you can't think of anything is a little worrying. After the way he's taken up for you in the past few days, I think that he deserves as much consideration back. He worried when there was something wrong with you, and he did everything he could to help and fix it.
I didn't want Finn to be unhappy the way I had been, so I tried to take a minute to think deeper. Unfortunately, Finn was talking again, and things kind of slipped my mind. "I think Mr. Shue should just give him a blow job and get it over with. I could probably give him some tips."
If Finn gave Mr. Shue tips in giving a blow job, the Glee club would not only be saved, but have a budget that was twice as large as the Cheerios'. "I would think that that crosses every possible line of appropriate student/teacher relationships. But keep it in mind, because we might need it later."
"I might need something later, too. You know, since I have lots of energy from my ice cream." He leered at me, giving me no doubt as to what he thought he might need.
Being with Finn has apparently turned me into a tramp, because instead of telling him the million and ten reasons that we shouldn't, I just nodded. "Ok. Dad won't be home until late tonight, so we'll have plenty of time."
His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "First we do it in the car, then we go get ice cream, and now you're telling me we can go to your house and do it again? Am I, like, dying or something and nobody told me?"
"No. I'm just in a very generous mood today. Maybe we could do a little hands on demonstration about the difference between tops and bottoms?"
He gathered the napkins and my empty dish. "Done. Now. Car. Let's go."
Once I had agreed, Finn wasn't about to take any chances that I might change my mind. "Whoa, Cowboy."
He leaned in so he could whisper in my ear. "I could say something about being ridden hard and put away wet, but I won't because it would be nasty."
"How about I show you what nasty really is?" As always, the words sounded stupid to my ears when I whispered back.
To Finn's ears, though, it must have sounded different, because he nodded enthusiastically. "Let's do this."
I couldn't agree more.