So here goes, have what I squeezed out so far.:)
Upon careful consideration, Finn has come to realize that’s what Kurt is.
Nobody would ever think it, because he’s got these wide blue eyes and pink cheeks just like a cherub, and he looks as innocent as a cute little bunny – until he does something like slapping you on the ass in front of the whole school.
Kurt is anything but innocent, actually, except nobody sees it because they’re all cooing over how sweet he looks. And sure, Kurt looks just like a baby angel.
But he’s so shameless when he slips into Finn’s bed at night and clamps a hand over his mouth before laying wet kisses along his neck. Shameless, as he shivers and moans and begs without a second thought; shameless when he takes control, sweaty and crazed with need, riding Finn until his thighs give out. And shamelessly vocal in his pleasure, as Finn stares.
“What the hell is a neckerchief?”
“Well, clearly, Finn, it is a handkerchief that goes around your neck.”
“Dude, how can you put a handkerchief around your neck?”
“What do you mean, how can I.”
“Handkerchiefs are like for blowing your nose and stuff.”
“For heaven’s sake, Finn, I mean a bigger one, like a foulard.” (Finn wasn’t totally sure what the French word was supposed to mean. Rachel had told him Kurt’s French accent was terrible, but the last time she had said something to that effect to Kurt, there had been screams.)
“So you mean like a scarf?”
“No, Finn, it’s not like a scarf. It’s a neckerchief.”
“Well, it sounds stupid.”
“You are stupid.”
“That’s mean, dude. Also childish.”
“Oh for heaven’s sake, Finn-”
“And it looks like a scarf.”
“Fine. It’s a scarf. Are you happy?”
“I hate you.”
“No you don’t.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Are we there yet?” Finn asked.
“No, sweetie, we aren’t.” Carole said, the tiniest hint of impatience showing in her affectionate reply.
“…Are we there yet?” Finn repeated, after a while.
Burt smiled. “Nah, kid, not for another hour.”
“Are we there yet?”
Carole sighed. “Honey, I know you’re excited about getting to the hotel, but I told you we’d be there by 10 pm and it’s just 8.30.”
“What’s the matter with you?” Kurt huffed, annoyed.
Finn gave him a look, then started typing away on his cellphone. After a couple minutes Kurt felt his iPhone vibrate; he took it out and opened the text, frowning curiously.
Do u no what they have @the hotel?
Rolling his eyes at how childish his stepbrother was, Kurt set about replying.
No, I do not. What might it be I wonder.
Another weird look from Finn.
Double rooms w/ built-in hi-fi system & water mattresses. Dude, WATER MATTRESSES!!!
Kurt stared at his iPhone, then looked up. “…Are we there yet?”
“Kurt,” Finn started, in the subdued tone that meant he was about to ask something which might have unpleasant consequences.
“Yes?” The other boy looked up from his maths homework.
“I’m going to the cemetery to see my dad tomorrow. You know, it’s Veterans’ Day.”
A cold feeling started settling in the pit of Kurt’s stomach. “Okay. And…?”
“I was wondering if you wanted to go see your mom.” It was almost a whisper now.
A moment of frozen silence went by.
“No, I don’t.” Kurt said in such a brisk, final tone as to cut off any possible argument. Of course, he should have known better, because this was Finn, after all.
“But you never go to see her.”
“What on earth do you mean, Finn? Of course I go to see her, I go whenever dad wants.”
“Yeah, but you gotta have one day.” Finn insisted, with the absolute certainty that he displayed sometimes when he didn’t know why something was true, but he knew it was. “You know, always the same one.”
Kurt put his pencil down, starting to feel annoyed. “Why.”
Finn shrugged, looking like an overgrown kid. “Because that makes it special. If you just pick a day, and you, and you… dedicate it to someone’s memory, then it means something.” he explained, looking a little proud of himself for finding such an apt verb. “It becomes a tradition and, like… a special bond with them, and then it’s kind of like they’re here,” he murmured.
Kurt sighed, wondering how it was possible that his goof of a stepbrother was able to touch him so deeply that he felt it down to his core.
“I don’t like going to cemeteries alone.” Kurt croaked , the admission leaving his lips before he realised it.
“Then I can go with you.”
Kurt frowned. “I thought it was supposed to be the one day I dedicated to my mother. Just the two of us.”
“Yeah, yeah. Of course. But, you know.” Finn met his eyes, a little awkwardly. “I can dedicate it to you.”
Kurt stared at him for what felt like a very long time, then nodded and looked down. Neither of them spoke again until dinnertime; they didn’t need words to know they had a deal.
After barely three days at Cleveland State University, both Finn and Kurt claim they know the campus like the palm of their hand.
In Kurt’s case it means he’s figured out where all his classes are, how the launderette works and which places serve the best coffee. In Finn’s case it means none of the above, rather that he’s already met all the cool people (and become one of them by default, apparently), he knows who throws the best parties and who’s in charge of booze.
Finn knows Kurt like the palm of his hand.
That’s how he knows he’s down even if the other boy insists nothing’s wrong, and how he knows the first homophobic slurs must have hit home. Finn knows Kurt doesn’t want to talk about it, so instead he nags, cajoles and pleads until his friend agrees to go along to the party, getting a small smile out of him.
Kurt knows Finn like the palm of his hand.
He knows that Finn is a responsible guy, who refuses to touch a drop of alcohol if he has to drive, but that if there is no actual need for him to stay sober, he can get pretty stupid. Kurt knows Finn will manage to make a fool of himself with his lack of dancing skills and make out with half the girls at the party before they leave the frat house, and that it will be up to him to steer him safely back to their shared room. Unless Finn throws up on his shoes, in which case Kurt will lock him out.
Finn finds out he doesn’t know himself half as well as the palm of his hand when – five drinks, three girls and no barfing later – he somehow ends up running a hand through Kurt’s hair, thinking he’s got the prettiest lips Finn’s ever seen, much prettier than those chicks’, so he just goes with what his alcohol-imbued instincts tell him and lays one on them.
Kurt realizes he doesn’t know himself like the palm of his hand either, for he would have sworn up and down he was long past being in love with Finn Hudson – especially this goofy, inebriated, ridiculous version of him – but there’s no other excuse for the way his heart stutters and aches when their lips collide.
They spend the rest of the night kissing, until they know each other’s mouth like the palm of their hands.
They’d been fooling around for a while now, and after a whole lot of freak-outs and panic and stupid shit, Finn could safely say he had no regrets. Being with Kurt was fun. It was hot and it was fun and a lot of the time it made him feel this warm fuzzy feeling inside (but he wasn’t about to say that, because he might have gone gay for Kurt but he wasn’t a girl).
Things standing as they did, it wasn’t a huge shock when he asked Kurt to prom. It just kinda happened, he hadn’t been planning it. “So… you wanna maybe go to prom with me?”, he had asked one day over maths homework. Kurt had looked at him warily for a long moment, then nodded and said “Okay.” Neither boy made a big deal out of it. Another serious advantage of being with a guy.
(One of them was, for example, the snogging. Kurt wasn’t as chaste as Quinn or as proper as Rachel. He was romantic and gentle and all, but he was a dude and he could get pretty damn horny,and often would wrap a hand in Finn’s t-shirt and pull him in for a fierce make-out session.)
Eventually prom evening rolled around, and when Finn walked out of their shared house, tongue caught between his teeth and fighting a deadly battle with his necktie, Kurt was standing there, perfectly dressed and coiffed, but something was off about him.
He was radiating nervous tension, his blue-green eyes wide and awash with this overwhelming something that was a whole lot of fear and a tiny flame of hope – but mostly it was just terror, vulnerable and soft and open. Finn hadn’t seen Kurt stare at him like that in over two years; the last time, Kurt had been tiny and childlike and about to be bodily tossed in a dumpster.
Finn’s heart did this weird squeeze-contract-grow huge thing, but he said nothing, just smiled at Kurt and leaned in to kiss him on the lips quickly, one arm around his shoulders.
Kurt beamed up at him, that overwhelming horrible feeling gone from his eyes; they walked to the car in the warm, sweet-scented evening air, Kurt bouncing a little bit like he was walking on clouds, and Finn felt like a superhero.