Author's Note: This work has not been beta 'd. All mistakes are my own. Any dialogue that you recognize has been borrowed straight from 'Theatricality' from season one. PLEASE REVIEW!

WARNINGS: This story contains a lot of homophobic language (as it is based on 'Theatricality' from season one, and therefore derivatives of that particular f-word are many.) The N-word is said once. It also contains spanking of a teenager by a parental figure and some sappy, fluffy stuff. If any of this will upset or offend you, go read something else. There are a lot of good stories on fanfiction dot net and I'm sure you can find one you'll like better.

He hadn't meant to say it. Not really. Well, kind of. But only in his head, because he knew that you couldn't just say that kind of thing. Not out loud. Not like you meant it. And yet, it was just coming out of his mouth.

"This faggy couch blanket!" he said, yanking at the blanket.

Kurt's face was white. Beyond white, because really, the dude's face was always pale. Now though he looked absolutely sick, and Finn felt the shock of his own actions hit him in the stomach at the same time that he heard Burt yell, "Hey!"

Then his stomach dropped to his knees.

Burt's face was furious. Finn took a couple of automatic steps backwards as the man advanced on him, looking angrier than Finn had ever seen him. And damn, the dude was scary.

"What did you just call him?" Burt's voice was hot with barely suppressed rage. Finn's stomach twisted.

"Oh, no, no, I didn't call him anything. I was talking to the blanket," he said weakly, making a small gesture towards the offending thing. He had been talking about the blanket, but the look on Burt's face said that it didn't matter.

"If you use that word, you're talking about him," Burt said. Finn could tell that the man was holding onto his control by the tips of his fingernails. His stomach flopped again.

"Relax, Dad. I didn't take it that way." Kurt looked terrified, and Finn wasn't sure if he was scared for himself, or scared for Finn, but either way, it didn't help with the wrestling match going on in his stomach. 'Cause yeah, Finn had kind of been a douche…okay, no kind of. He'd been a total douche, but he hadn't been trying to scare Kurt. Just make him see reason, that Finn couldn't live in a room that looked like a freaking whore house or something. Not that he knew what that looked like, but he'd guess that it would look a lot like this stupid new decorating job that Kurt had pulled.

"Yeah, that's because you're 16 and you still assume the best in people. You live a few years, you start seeing the hate in people's hearts. Even the best people. You use the N-word?" Burt eyes were burning holes into Finn's, and he looked down, shame burning in his chest.

"O-of course not," Finn managed to stutter. God, if he ever said something like that, he was pretty sure that his mom would straight up beat him.

"Yeah, how about 'retard'? You call that nice girl in Cheerios with Kurt, you call her a retard?" Burt was insistent, still staring at Finn, his eyes blazing. Finn tried to look the man in the eyes though, wanting to prove his sincerity.

"Becky, no. She's my friend, she's got... Down syndrome. I'd never call her that. That's cruel." He felt small, trying to defend himself from Burt's accusations. Did the guy really think he was that evil?

"But you think it's okay to come in my house and say 'faggy'?"

Finn jerked at the word. When Burt put it like that…well, it did seem pretty bad.

"T-That's not what I meant," Finn defended. He hadn't meant to say it out loud like that. Sometimes his mouth just said really stupid things before he could stop himself!

"I know what you meant!" Finn flinched back again from the anger and pain in Burt's voice. "What, you think I didn't use that word when I was your age? You know, some kid gets clocked in practice, we'd tell him to stop being such a fag. Shake it off. We meant it exactly the way you meant it. That being gay is wrong. That it's some kind of punishable offense."

Finn couldn't look Burt in the eye anymore, but when he looked away, he saw Kurt's face. It was all scrunched up, eyes watery. Oh crap. He'd really hurt the dude. He hadn't meant to…not really. Not like that.

"I really thought you were different, Finn." Those words socked him in the gut. He could hear the disappointment in Burt's voice along with the anger, and one thing Finn could never handle was when people were disappointed in him. "You know, I thought that being in Glee Club and being raised by your mom meant that you were some, you know, new generation of dude who saw things differently. Who just kind of, you know, came into the world knowing what has taken me years of struggling to figure out. I guess I was wrong."

Finn wanted to protest that Burt wasn't wrong, that really, he was a decent dude whose mouth had just run away on him. He'd been freaking out on Kurt, yeah, but he really hadn't meant to hurt him. He'd only wanted the dude to back off, to stop, like, expecting that he could turn Finn gay. That was all!

"Dad..." Kurt said softly.

"I love your mom, and maybe this is gonna cost me her. But my family comes first. I can't have that kind of poison around." Finn winced again. He'd said something poisonous. He'd poisoned his friend, his almost-stepbrother. One stupid word had just ruined everything.

"This is our home, Kurt." Burt glanced at Kurt, who was blinking hard in what Finn assumed was an attempt not to cry. "He is my son." Finn flinched at that in a big way. Kurt was Burt's son. His kid. "And I'm not," Finn finished quietly, understanding. Of course family would come first. Burt liked Finn, yeah, but he wasn't Burt's kid.

"Dad…" Kurt said again, this time sounding a bit chiding, and making Finn feel a million times worse. He'd been a complete ass to the guy, and Kurt was still defending him. He shrunk into himself, wrapping his arms around his stomach and staring down at his sneakers.

Burt sighed. "Go upstairs, Kurt," he ordered.

"But—" Kurt protested.

"Now, Kurt Elliot." Burt's voice was stern. Finn hugged himself tighter as he listened to Kurt's slow, hesitant footsteps climb the stairs. "And shut the door!" Burt hollered up at him, making Finn jerk as the door shut with a loud click.

And then it was just him and Burt, staring at each other in the weird, gauzy bordello-y room that Kurt had created. Finn looked away first, the shame of his actions making it hard to keep Burt's eyes, especially since they looked so much like Kurt's own.

"I'm really not happy with you right now, kid," Burt said after a long silence. Finn hunched over more, wishing he could just disappear. "Like, really, really not happy. Of all the things that you could have said or done, why? Why 'fag'?"

Finn didn't really know what to say. Why had he said it? He'd just wanted Kurt to back off. He was tired of Kurt being so weird around him, always looking at him with, like, stars in his eyes or whatever. He'd tried to be nice about it. He'd pointed out that he was in love with Quinn, and then later, after they'd broken up, that no matter that Kurt didn't like Rachel's sweater collection, they really did make her boobs look amazing. He'd avoided being anything but fully dressed around Kurt (because Celibacy Club had always said that it wasn't good to look at girls too much because then they'd turn you on and you'd have sex and get pregnant, which was pretty true as far as Finn could tell and even though Kurt liked dudes, he was pretty sure that he still liked to look as much as any other guy, and Finn did NOT want to get pregnant). He'd brushed off all the awkward flirting that Kurt had done. He'd told him he was straight. Like, really straight. Wasn't that enough?

Burt sighed again. "Nothing to say?"

Oh yeah. He was supposed to be explaining why he'd used that word. "I dunno," he mumbled finally. "I just…it just popped out. I didn't mean to."

Burt looked at him, and those blue eyes were as sharp as daggers. "'It just popped out'," he said. Finn looked down again, his stomach twisting. Yeah, that really wasn't a great reason, was it? "But 'retard,' or 'nigger,' never just popped out. Right?"

Finn flinched again, and shook his head. No, he'd never called anybody either of those things. Well, maybe he'd called things retarded when he was younger, until he'd accidentally called something retarded in front of Puck's mom, who had smacked him upside the head hard enough to make his ears ring and told him that if she ever heard him use that word again he'd be sorry. Puck had later explained that his great-grandmother's uncle, who had Down's syndrome, had died in the concentration camps. Finn had never used the word again.

"Why's that?" Finn didn't say anything, still staring at the floor. He could feel Burt's eyes drilling a hole through the top of his head but he couldn't think of a reason besides 'Those are awful things to say about people,' and he was pretty sure that calling things…well, kind of calling a person…okay, calling Kurt "faggy" had been pretty freaking awful of him. But what else could he say?

Very suddenly, Burt crossed the floor and grabbed his face, yanking his chin up to look him in the eyes. Finn couldn't help the little surprised, "Eeep!" that squeaked out of him.

"You're lucky you aren't my kid," Burt said frankly, staring him down (and how the hell did he manage that when Finn was actually taller than him anyway?). Finn winced at that, because that hurt. He'd liked the father-son type stuff that he and Burt had been doing together, and while he wasn't ready to call the dude "Dad" or anything, he'd thought the guy thought of him like a son. And he had been feeling like maybe Burt would be a good step-dad, if Burt and Mom decided to tie the knot or whatever.

"Yeah?" Finn said. He was trying to sound like Puck, kind of tough and like he didn't care that Burt had just stomped on his emotions a little bit, but instead he just sounded weak and kind of sad.

Burt's blue eyes blazed into Finn's, and Finn suddenly realized exactly where those evil death glares that Kurt threw out on occasion had come from. He tried to look away, but Burt's grip on his chin was strong.

"Yeah. 'Cuz if you were my kid, I'd have already turned you over my knee." Burt released his chin and turned towards the stairs.

There was a long moment where Burt's words absolutely did not compute. Finn blinked a few times before his mouth dropped open. Turned him over his knee? Like…what? But that was, like…a spanking? Holy crap! "You can't do that!" Finn blurted recklessly.

Burt turned back to him. "Sit your ass down while you still can and think about this: Why shouldn't I? No," Burt said, holding his hand out like a stop sign and cutting off Finn's sputters. "I don't want to hear it. Honestly, right now I'm too mad at you to hear it. You can sit down here until your mom gets home and explain it to her." Burt turned again and started the climb up the stairs, leaving Finn to think about his own stupidity.

Finn collapsed onto the stupid, too-low couch that Kurt had picked out (futon, Rachel's voice echoed in his head) propped his elbows on his knees and dropped his head into his hands. God, he was such a dick. Burt hated him. Kurt probably did too. And his mom was going to kill him.

He checked his phone since Burt hadn't taken it from him and sighed. His mom would be home in a little less than an hour, and he was supposed to figure out how to explain this to her. But he knew his mom—it had been just the two of them for a long time after all. She was going to be so mad, and even worse, disappointed. And Burt was beyond pissed at him. He'd threatened to spank him, for crying out loud. Who threatened to spank a sixteen year old? And then there was Kurt, and thinking about his friend's face all screwed up and trying not to cry made him feel like dirt. Because yeah, they were friends, even if Kurt did sometimes fall into creepy stalker territory every once in a while. But he wasn't always creepy, and they'd had some good talks and stuff before their parents decided to move in together. He'd made Kurt feel like crap, with one stupid word that had just popped out automatically. One stupid, poisonous word.

Furious at himself, Finn flopped back against the low back of the futon to stare at the ceiling and wait for his mom to get home, his mind spinning in useless circles.

He heard his mom's car in the driveway, and then the low hum of her voice greeting someone. Burt's voice rumbled back, and he debated creeping up to the top of the stairs to listen through the door.

He'd almost decided to get up when…

"WHAT?" his mom shouted. So Burt had told her then. He found himself sinking lower into the stupid cushions, wishing the dumb futon would just swallow him whole.

He heard Burt's rumble again, and then the door at the top of the stairs flew open with a bang and his mom came down them like a bat out of hell. "What did you call Kurt, Finn Christopher Hudson?" his mother asked in a voice like ice, her fists denting into her hips. Behind her, Burt followed at a more normal pace. Finn jumped to his feet defensively.

"I didn't mean to!" he protested, his hands out like he was holding his mother off. "Honestly, it just sort of happened."

Uh oh. His mom's face darkened like a storm cloud. Burt came up behind her and put his hand on her back.

"How does that word 'just sort of happen,' Finn?" she asked. "Because I'm pretty sure that I have never in my life used that kind of word. And I know that I raised you better than that!"

Finn felt his face heat up with shame. "I really didn't mean to," he repeated, unable to look at either adult's face. Even the back of his neck felt hot with embarrassment.

"I'm ashamed, Finn," his mother said, and Finn cringed at her words. "I never in my life thought that I would feel ashamed of you, but I am today. You'd call Kurt that, in his own home? I was under the impression that you boys were friends!"

"We are!" Finn protested, his eyes shooting up.

"Oh? And you call all your friends…fags?" He could tell his mom didn't want to say that word, but even so, she had sarcasm just as biting as anything Kurt could pull off.

He didn't know what to say. Truth was, yeah, he did. At least occasionally, when they were being…faggy. But he was pretty sure that wasn't what his mom wanted to hear.

Apparently she was as good at reading his mind as she'd always been. He saw the fury wash over his mom's face. It had been a long time since he'd seen her this mad, and the first time that intense anger had been directed at him. She took a few menacing steps towards him and he stepped back automatically, nearly losing his balance as his calves knocked into the futon.

"Are you gonna spank me?" What the hell was wrong with his mouth? He hadn't meant to say that either! He was way too old for that, for one thing. But the look on her face was the same cold, angry look that had prompted pretty much every one of the relatively rare spankings he'd gotten growing up, and considering that Burt had threatened him with one earlier, it had been gnawing at the back of his mind.

His mom stopped cold, and he didn't miss the confusion that briefly crossed her face. She glanced back at Burt.

"I told him that I would if he was my kid," Burt admitted. "I was going to talk to you about it but then you were already down the stairs."

Finn watched as the two of them had one of those conversations that adults sometimes did, that didn't have words at all but was basically just a lot of intense staring and apparently, mind-reading. His heart was thumping in his chest, and he really wished they would talk out loud like normal people so that he'd know what was going on.

She turned back to him. "What you did to Kurt was absolutely unacceptable," she said, staring him down. Finn looked away, because there really wasn't anything to say to that. Yeah, it was. It was one thing to call Puck or Matt a fag, because everyone knew that he was joking, that he didn't mean it. But for Kurt…well, Kurt was different. He liked guys. Which meant that calling him that…was bad. Really bad. Even Finn knew the difference and he wasn't always the quickest, ask anyone.

"I need to talk to Burt and Kurt. You," her voice took on a harder edge and Finn leaned away from her, "will sit down here and think about why what you did was so awful. And how you are going to fix it." Her eyes glared daggers into his. "Understand me?"

Finn gulped. "Yeah," he said, his voice so soft that he was surprised his mom could even hear it, but she nodded firmly.

They walked back up the stairs, and Finn watched them go. When the door slammed, it was like all the energy just sucked out of his body and he collapsed back onto the dumb futon.

His mom was right, he mused. Not that he hadn't known that it was unacceptable…he'd known. Because otherwise, he wouldn't have said it. He could admit that to himself, at least, since it was in the privacy of his own head. Kurt's crush on him (and didn't that idea just make him wince) was making him go crazy. It was creepy, the way he would do that weird little giggle sometimes that Kurt probably thought was cute or something but wasn't. He didn't laugh like that with anyone else. Mercedes didn't have to deal with that stupid giggle. Kurt's real laugh was normal. Or how he'd find reasons to touch him, randomly and usually for no good reason. His hand would linger there too long to be friendly. It kind of reminded Finn of the weird way Mr. Ryerson would sometimes touch people, smoothing out their clothes or whatever for no real reason. Of course, Kurt wasn't as creepy as Mr. Ryerson…but Finn still didn't like it. And then the looking, or the not-looking that was almost worse because Finn could tell that Kurt was trying so hard not to look. It made him feel like every time he had to change his clothes he was putting on a show for the guy that he didn't want to do and hadn't signed up for. He mostly just changed in the bathroom, but that made stuff weird too, because Kurt would look at him when he came out and Finn could see that the guy knew he was hiding from him. The whole situation was so messed up. Burt knew his kid was gay, even if he didn't know that the guy had a thing for Finn. Why would he make them room together?

He'd wanted to hurt Kurt, he admitted to himself finally. He'd wanted to make the dude stop looking at him like that, stop thinking about him like that. He'd wanted to find a word that would take Kurt's crush and kill it dead. Well, he'd found it. But he was starting to think that he might have done a lot worse than just kill the crush. He probably had killed their friendship too, and what if his Mom and Burt decided that they couldn't see each other anymore because her son was a grade A asshole? Burt was the first guy his mom had seen since Darren and his lawn paint left with that blonde bimbo. And she really liked Burt. A lot. Like, maybe they were even in love, as gross as Finn found that because ick. Parents were not supposed to fall in love. But his mom was happier than he'd seen her in a long time, and if he'd ruined that? He was pretty sure that made him the worst son ever. Plus Burt had been really awesome to him, taking him to games and stuff, and Finn was almost positive he'd killed that too.

How the hell was he supposed to fix this? He couldn't un-say it. He couldn't un-see Kurt's face, pale and sick-looking, like the dude wasn't sure if he should cry or puke or what. He couldn't un-feel the rage that had rolled off Burt in waves, or the disappointment in the man's hard blue eyes. He couldn't make his mom un-ashamed of him. A lump rose in the back of his throat and he swallowed hard, trying to push it back down.

Finn closed his eyes and leaned back. This feeling…this feeling sucked. Finn wasn't used to feeling like the bad guy. He'd always tried to be the good guy, the one people could depend on, the leader, the guy who helped others. One stupid word had killed way more than Kurt's crush on him.

He heard the click of the door and the footsteps on the stairs, and sat up quickly. His mom and Burt were coming back down the stairs, both of them looking somber and disappointed. He looked down, unable to bear the weight of their eyes on him like that.

His mom spoke first. "Finn Christopher, I honestly cannot believe that we are having this conversation. But what you said needs to be addressed."

He stared down at the tops of his knees, his muscles tense, waiting for her to drop sentencing on him, so to speak. He looked up in surprise when Burt spoke.

"I've talked this over with your mom, and she agrees with me. There are some words you just don't say. You don't say the N-word, you don't call people retarded." Burt let out a sigh. "And I never want to hear you say 'fag' or any derivative of it ever again."

"Derivative?" Finn questioned quietly, because he might have heard that word before but only in math class…and he was struggling to pull a solid C in there.

"Anything like it," his mother explained. Finn nodded, dropping his eyes back to the floor.

"So tell me," Burt said, "why you use 'fag' but not those other words."

Finn continued to stare at the floor, unsure of what to say. Saying, 'I'm not a racist,' seemed like a pretty obvious one, and he wasn't about to tell them that Mrs. Puckerman had pretty much cleaned his clock for calling something 'retarded' in front of her. But he could feel them waiting, standing there and staring at him. Finally, he managed a half-hearted shrug.

He heard his mother sigh, and Burt said, "Here's my theory, kid. You don't use the N-word because you know it's awful, and my guess is that about half your buddies on the football team are black, and would probably kick the crap out of you if you used it. Am I right so far?"

Finn shrugged again, then nodded a little. He couldn't even imagine calling Matt, or Jenson, or Marcus that. Hell, he wouldn't even call Azimio that, and not just because the guy outweighed him by about 100 pounds. It just wasn't something he'd ever say. He'd never even thought to say it.

"And the R-word…why don't you use that? Because of your little Cheerio friend?" For a second, Finn thought of Brittany, before realizing that Burt was probably still referring to Becky. He nodded again, and managed to say, "Yeah. And Puck's great-uncle or whatever too." He still couldn't look up.

"What does…never mind," his mom said. He wondered if she was going to call Mrs. Puckerman and ask her what the hell he was talking about.

"But calling someone a fag is different. Why's that?" Burt's voice was still intense and Finn hunched into himself a little more. He couldn't say those words. Not to Kurt's dad. He couldn't explain why he'd done it, because the more he had thought about it, the worse his words had seemed. To say them out loud…Finn knew himself. He was a lot of things, but he wasn't that brave. Not to be able to say that kind of thing to Kurt's dad.

"I'm sorry," he managed to whisper to the carpet.

He felt Burt's footsteps as the man crossed into his space and grabbed his shoulders. "Look at me," Burt demanded, and Finn looked up at the man looming over him. Meeting those blue eyes that were so like Kurt's was one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do.

"You hurt my kid. You made him cry, here, in his own room, where he should have been safe." Finn cringed at that. "I don't think you're a bad kid, Finn—not really. If I did, you'd be out of here. But I do think that you need to learn to think about the words you say before you say them."

Finn swallowed hard, wondering where Burt was going with this. He didn't have to wait long.

"I talked to your mom, and she agrees with me. If you were my kid, I'd have already turned you across my knee, and that's what's gonna happen."

Finn stared at Burt for a long moment, barely aware that his mouth had dropped open. The threat had been one thing, but this impending doom was something else entirely.

His eyes darted to where his mom was standing with that stern poker face. "Mom?" he asked, his voice not as strong as he might have wanted.

"I agree with him, Finn," his mom said.

"B-but I'm sixteen!" he implored, looking between his mom and Burt for some kind of indication that this was a horrible joke. He didn't see one. "That's…you can't…I mean…I'm too old for that! You wouldn't do that to Kurt!" This he hurled at Burt, who still had his shoulders in a vice grip.

"The hell I wouldn't," Burt said, his voice rumbling like thunder. Finn swore he could feel the words in his chest. "I might let him get away with 'fag' since apparently that's one of those words that is okay for gay people to say but not straight ones…but if he used the N-word on someone? You'd better believe I'd whup his tail for that."

And Finn believed him. Burt let go of his shoulders, took a step back, and said, "Stand up."

Finn shrunk back into the futon. This couldn't be happening. It had to be a nightmare, and he was going to wake up in a minute or two and Kurt was going to be fast asleep in his stupid, fluffy, pillow-covered bed and he wouldn't have actually said that word right to Kurt's sad little china face and things would be ok. Burt wouldn't be getting ready to beat the snot out of him, and his mom wouldn't be wishing that she had a son who wasn't a crappy human being. Any second now, he'd wake up.

"Finn Christopher," his mom said in that dark voice that he barely ever heard her use. Oh crap. He was awake. This was actually happening.

"Are you gonna watch?" he asked his mom. She took a deep breath, and he said, "Mom, you can't. Come on, please!" There was a whine to his tone that he didn't like, but his heart was starting to thump a million miles an hour and he was pretty sure that as much as this was going to suck, he couldn't deal with his mom standing there watching it. His whole face and neck were already flushing with embarrassment. Bad enough to be sixteen and get your ass whupped like a little kid. Even worse to have it happen with a freaking audience. Even if it was just his mom.

Burt turned to her and again they were having one of those eye-conversations. Finn was holding his breath. He couldn't handle this. He just couldn't. But he also couldn't stop it. It was like watching a train crash, where he couldn't stop it and he couldn't look away.

Finally, they broke eye contact and his mom looked at him. "Don't you dare give Burt a hard time about this Finn. Not after what you said to Kurt," she said. "Because I promise you, if you do, you'll be grounded until you graduate. Do. You. Understand?"

Finn nodded weakly. His mother nodded back.

"Okay," she pronounced, almost like a priest or something before a church service ended. Not that he had a lot of experience with that, but Quinn had dragged him once or twice while they were dating, and there was a scary similarity.

Finn watched his mom climb the stairs. The door shut with a click that seemed to echo into the silence between Burt and him. Then Burt turned back to him.

"Stand up," he repeated, his voice low. Finn slowly stood, managing not to cover his butt with both hands out of sheer willpower. Even though he was a big guy, he felt about two feet tall looking at Burt's stern face.

Burt stepped closer and it was all Finn could do not to back away. His whole body was tense. It wasn't that he was scared, not exactly. He knew he could take a hit; he was a football player for God's sake. It was that this situation was pretty much entirely out of his control, and Burt was mad at him, and he'd never had to deal with an angry Burt before, and he wasn't sure what the dude was going to do. Besides the obvious, of course, and that sucked.

Burt sat on the couch (futon, Rachel's voice insisted in the back of his head) and reached out and grabbed his wrist. Finn stared at the man's hand, clasped around the bones of his wrist.

"Alright," Burt said. "Bend over."

Awkwardly, his face feeling hot, Finn bent at the waist like he was trying to touch his toes. Burt let out an exasperated sigh.

"No. Stand up," Burt directed. Confused, Finn did, looking at Burt. The man patted his own thigh with his free hand. "Over my knees, kid."

Finn froze. His brain seemed to completely short-circuit. The only word he could think was no. No no no no no no no. No way. There was no frickin' way—

Burt's eyes were on him, waiting. "Finn…" he said, a clear warning in his voice. His grip on Finn's wrist tightened even though Finn hadn't moved, hell, hadn't breathed.

"Why?" Finn managed to squeak out after a long, scary silence. It didn't make sense. He was way too big for that. And too old. When Burt had threatened to turn him over his knee, he'd assumed that was fig…figuraling. No, figurative. Not something the dude was actually going to do.

"Because I never, ever want to hear that word from you again," Burt said, "and this way, you aren't likely to forget it." His eyes bored into Finn's. "A little embarrassment goes a lot further than a lot of pain. I'm not about to beat you, but I'll guarantee that you won't forget this." The man patted his leg again. "Now, over."

Finn felt his face burn at that. He stared down at Burt's legs, but his body refused to move, to cooperate with Burt's words. "Finn!" Burt growled, obviously losing patience as Finn stood there, frozen solid, completely unable to follow Burt's direction.

"I can't!" Finn said plaintively, his voice barely loud enough to hear. He felt like he was going to puke, and the backs of his eyes were starting to burn. Burt let out a frustrated sigh.

Suddenly, he'd released Finn's wrist and put his hand on Finn's back. His other hand took Finn's wrist and pulled him forward. Finn found himself awkwardly bent over, one hand braced on the seat of the futon, and he put his other hand out to catch himself.

"Knees on the ground," Burt directed him gruffly. "You're gonna have to put your weight on me, kid, at least some of it."

Embarrassment flooded his body as Burt rearranged him with words so his giant self would fit across his lap. He couldn't believe this was happening, or how stupid it made him feel. Finally though, Burt's hand settled firmly on his back. Finn hid his face in one of the stupid floppy pillow things that Kurt had so lovingly placed on the futon, feeling like a five year old and absolutely mortified.

He tensed, expecting the hitting portion of this to begin right away. But to his surprise, Burt started to talk.

"Do you understand why calling someone a fag is such an awful thing to do?" Burt paused here, like he thought Finn might say something, but Finn was sure that if he opened his mouth he was going to hurl so he just gave a little shake of his head. "Words have history, Finn. The reason the N-word is so bad, for example, is because of slavery, and how white people used that word to make black people seem less human."

Finn wondered why Burt was going into some kind of history lesson here. His face was still beet-red with the shame of being turned across Burt's knee like a little kid, and he just wanted this to be over with so he could pretend that it had never happened.

"Fag is a shortened form of the word faggot, which I know you know." Burt's hand landed a hard smack to Finn's backside at this, and Finn let out a shocked grunt. He hadn't been expecting that out of nowhere. He tensed. "Do you know what a faggot is?" Another hard smack. This time, Finn managed to stay silent even as the sting of it bloomed across his ass.

Burt laid down another hard swat that burned like fire where it landed. "I asked you a question," he said, his voice firm.

Finn gulped in a breath. "A gay dude," Finn said, his voice barely audible considering his face was still mashed into that dumb fluffy pillow thing.

"A gay dude," Burt echoed. "Yeah. But that's not the only meaning of faggot. This is something that I actually learned from Kurt, by the way, so he knows this too." Another hard smack made Finn gasp. "See, back in the middle ages," SMACK, "they used to burn people at the stake." SMACK. "Witches mostly, but other people too. Disabled people, like your little Cheerio friend. Gay people, like Kurt" SMACK. "And to burn anything, you need firewood. So people would make little bundles of sticks," SMACK, "for kindling, and they'd tie them together with a piece of string or something. These little bundles of sticks," SMACK, "were specifically to start a fire. And they were called faggots." SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

Finn was feeling it now; his ass felt like it was on fire, and he could sympathize with those witches, at least a little. He gritted his teeth, his whole body rigid. He hadn't known that! He'd known it was a crappy thing to say to a gay dude, but…not like that! God, he really was an awful person! And this really, really freaking hurt! He couldn't help kicking his legs a little, trying to escape the painful point that Burt was laying on him. It wasn't exactly cool or dignified, but this whole situation was beyond undignified.

"So when you call my kid a fag," SMACK! "You are saying that he should burn. Just like that little bundle of sticks. SMACK! SMACK! "Is that really what you meant to say about my boy, when you called him faggy?" SMACK! "That he deserves to burn? That you'd send my kid to hell? Just because when he falls in love, he's looking at a boy instead of a girl?" SMACK! SMACK!

Finn had been trying so hard to hold back the tears that had been prickling at the backs of his eyes since he'd been flopped across Burt's lap, but Burt's deliberate words broke the dam. He burst into tears like a broken pipe, nearly hysterical as they flowed down his face. He could be a jerk, and an asshole sometimes, but he hadn't meant that Kurt should burn! He hadn't even known that! He wouldn't wish that on anyone, and especially not his friend. No matter how creepy he ever got, he didn't deserve that. No one deserved that. "No!" Finn managed to say through his sobs. "I didn't…I didn't mean that!"

Burt's hand grabbed his arm and yanked him up to a kneeling position so they were face to face. Finn dropped his head, too ashamed to look at the man. Tears and snot were running down his face and he wiped his nose with the back of one hand, sniffling so hard he could barely catch his breath. "Burt, 'm sorry!" he managed to choke out. "I didn't…d-didn't know!" Even though Burt wasn't hitting him anymore, his tears seemed to be coming harder. "'M so sorry!" he wailed.

Burt's hands were gripped on his shoulders now. The man was studying him as he sobbed. He wanted to curl up in a little ball and disappear. No wonder his mom was ashamed of him. No wonder Burt hated him. And Kurt…God, he couldn't even blame Kurt for hating him. He choked on a gob of snot that was caught in the back of his throat, feeling like the lowest piece of garbage, and hid his face in his hands.

"Take a breath, Finn," Burt said. "C'mon, kid. It's gonna be okay." Burt's words were surprisingly gentle considering that Finn had pretty much just proven himself to be an awful human being. And towards Burt's kid! The snot just kept bubbling up in his throat and Finn gagged a little as the tears kept coming.

"Shhh, take a breath. Hey, hey," Burt said, his thumbs rubbing into Finn's shoulders. Finn shuddered, trying to catch his breath. "Shhh…okay. It's not the end of the world, kid." And then, very cautiously, Burt pulled Finn into a tenuous hug.

Finn was surprised into a moment of absolute silence. Burt was supposed to hate him! He'd said that AWFUL thing about his son, and Finn was pretty sure that if anyone had said something so terrible about his kid, if he had one, he wouldn't be hugging the guy. But then his need to breathe kicked in over his surprise and he went back to gasping around the thick snot that was in the back of his throat. Burt's arms tightened around him.

"Breathe, Finn. It's gonna be okay," Burt murmured.

Finn found himself sobbing into Burt's shoulder, mumbling "I'm sorry!" over and over again. He hadn't understood why it was so bad, not really, and now that he did, well, he felt terrible. And not just because he was crying so hard that his face hurt. Or because his ass still felt like it was on fire. It was the kind of crying that you did when you realized that you really were the bad guy here.

"Don't wanna be the bad guy," Finn managed to mumble. "'M so sorry, Burt! Really!" The tears were starting to slow enough that Finn could catch his breath a little.

"You're not a bad guy, Finn," Burt said quietly. "You screwed up, big. And you see it now. And you're gonna fix it."

"Don't know how," Finn said, his breath hitching in his chest. "K-kurt hates me now."

"Nah, he doesn't. You hurt him, but the Hummels don't break," Burt said. He patted Finn on the back a few times. "You'll make it up to him."

Finn realized suddenly that Burt was still hugging him, letting him leave slime and tears all over his shoulder. He pulled back, embarrassed at acting like a little kid, crying all over him.

Burt let go of him and handed him a mostly clean bandana from his pocket. It smelled a little like some kind of auto oil or grease or something, but Finn didn't hesitate to mop up his face and blow his nose. His breath hitched in his chest again.

"I'm r-really sorry," he said quietly, mostly to the floor. "I mean, I was al-already sorry, when I saw Kurt's face, but I d-didn't know why it was so bad to s-say that. And I won't. Say it again, I mean." He forced himself to meet Burt's eyes. "I-I'll make it up to Kurt. Somehow."

Burt reached out and clasped his shoulder. "I know," he said. He used his grip on Finn's shoulder to help propel himself off the futon. "Damn low couch," he said.

"It's a futon," Finn offered. Burt raised an eyebrow and offered his hand to help Finn stand, which Finn took. "Rachel told me," he managed in explanation, stifling a yawn with his free hand.

"Ah," Burt said, because really, that explained everything, didn't it? "Go get your pajamas on, kid," he said.

"It's like, six-thirty," Finn said half-heartedly. Honestly, it seemed like a pretty good idea.

"It's nearly seven," Burt said as if that made any difference, "and you're yawning."

Finn just stood there for a second. Burt gave him a mild shove to the shoulder towards "his" side of the still frankly-ridiculous-looking room. "Go on," he said, and turned towards the stairs.

Finn decided that it was easier to just do as he was told than try to argue about it, and dug around for a pair of pajama pants. They weren't where he'd left them, and he forcefully shoved down any uncharitable thoughts about Kurt's rearranging of his dresser drawers. He pulled off his shirt and left it on the floor next to his bed, then very carefully peeled off his jeans (because Burt might have broken him with his words, but his hand had been as hard as a freaking rock and his butt was still stinging pretty damn bad,) and just as carefully pulled on a pair of soft, worn pajama pants. Then he looked at his bed, which Kurt had carefully made with some kind of shiny, soft-looking brown bedspread and way too many pillows. He sighed and pulled the blanket back, carefully settling himself on his stomach. It was really comfy, he had to admit, even if it did look like a movie set.

He'd just rest for a minute, he decided. Just until his ass stopped hurting so the stairs wouldn't be torture. Then he'd go upstairs and apologize to Kurt, and see if his mom would pity him enough to warm him up some leftovers for dinner.

He dreamed about Lady Gaga, and Kurt.

She was wearing a weird red dress, and Kurt had on a matching tuxedo-thingie, and then she was building a huge bonfire. "Not enough faggots," she said, and suddenly the football team was wrapping Kurt in string, and Finn was yelling at them that they couldn't do that, 'cuz Kurt was practically his brother and didn't deserve to burn just because he was there. Burt and his mom were watching the whole thing, and while the look on his mom's face was dire, Burt was staring at him. "You've got to make it up to him!" Burt called. And so Finn grabbed a scissors, and where had that come from anyway? But he cut the string off of Kurt, and then Azimio and Karofsky were coming at him holding more string in their hands. "Someone's gonna burn!" Karofsky yelled, and Finn tried to back away, thrashing as the string got tighter and tighter around him—

He woke with a gasp, the sheets and blankets twisted tightly around his body. He took a deep breath and looked over towards Kurt's side of the room. He saw a small lump under the covers that he assumed was his almost-stepbrother and let out a little sigh of relief.

Finn carefully untangled himself from the stifling grip of the blankets and stood up. A quick glance at his phone told him it was nearly three in the morning. Quietly, trying not to wake Kurt, he tiptoed up the stairs and shut the door very carefully.

He made his way into the kitchen. A quick glance in the fridge found him a plate, heaped with lasagna and several breadsticks. That went into the microwave. A large bag from Sheets 'N' Things sat on the kitchen table.

He plopped down into one of the chairs and winced a little at the reminder of yesterday's events. He rifled through the bag, which held a bright red plastic shower curtain, a glue gun, and some flat, bead-like things without holes in them. Oh God. Kurt hadn't finished his decorating scheme. And Finn hadn't had a chance to check out the bathroom yet. What the hell was the dude planning to do with this?

The microwave beeped, and Finn fetched his food. As he started chewing, still staring at the ugly, bright red shower curtain, a vision from his dream crossed his mind. Lady Gaga's bright red dress. Nearly the same color as the shower curtain, honestly.

"You'll make it up to him," Burt had said. He couldn't unsay what he'd said, but he could show Kurt that he was going to change, now. An idea was forming in his mind.

He shoveled down the rest of the food and put his plate in the sink, then scooped up the shower curtain and the glue gun before heading to the bathroom. This was going to take some time…but if it worked, then Kurt would see how sorry he was about what he said, and he'd know that Finn wouldn't say it ever again.

It took the rest of the night and much of the morning to get the stupid thing glued together in such a way that it wouldn't fall apart when he moved around. He heard Kurt leave, early as he'd been doing all week during the theatricality lesson that had started this whole disaster, then heard his mom and Burt moving around. "Finn?" his mom called.

"I'm in here," he said.

"Are you sick?" his mom asked. "You've been in there a long time."

"No," he said. He glued another weird ruffle into place on his shower-curtain dress. "I'm almost done."

"With what?" His mother sounded cautious, which he couldn't exactly blame her for. He'd had more than a few chaotic ideas in the past...but really, this once was turning out pretty good. He'd only glued the curtain to his skin in a couple of places, and that seemed like a win to him.

He folded over another section of shower curtain and glued it in place, then looked in the mirror. The curtain made a pretty good version of the dress that he'd seen Lady Gaga wear in his dream last night. He looked freaking ridiculous…but somehow, he thought Kurt would approve.

He opened the bathroom door to both parents standing there. Their eyes were as wide as saucers in their faces.

"What the hell?" his mom said. "Is that my new shower curtain?"

But Burt just nodded. "Making it up to him?" he said, but it was less a question than a statement. Finn nodded.

His mom blinked a few times. "Okay," she said finally. "Well, you better get going, or you're going to be late."

The confrontation between Azimio and Karofsky couldn't have gone better if he'd planned it that way. Not that he liked that Kurt almost got beat up…or that he almost got beat up too, especially while dressed in a red plastic shower curtain…but the way the Glee club had shown up in full costume, ready to have their backs? That had been pretty awesome, and then all of them were laughing in the hallway, having what his mom would call 'a Moment.'

The other Glee members were ready to start rehearsal, and they all turned back towards the choir room, with Rachel leading the charge and completely ignoring how the others were comparing the looks on Karofsky and Azimio's faces. "I really think we need to express our delight in this situation through song," Rachel said in her usual hyper, semi-crazy way. "Perhaps a medley of 'Eye of the Tiger' and 'Don't Rain on my Parade'—"

Finn fell back, cautiously dropping a hand on Kurt's shoulder. "Hey," he said quietly, not wanting the other Glee kids' attention. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

He saw Kurt hesitate, before looking the shower-curtain-pretending-to-be-a-dress up and down. "Okay," the smaller boy said, crossing his arms protectively over his chest.

They both watched as the rest of the Glee club disappeared into the choir room. Then Kurt turned and stared him down head on. "What is it?" Kurt said. His voice had that brittle quality to it that Finn had heard when he was telling Karofsky and Azimio that they couldn't punch the gay out of him—the dude was nervous.

Finn bit his lip. He didn't want to make Kurt nervous. "Dude, I'm so sorry," he said all in a rush. "I really shouldn't have said that, and I didn't exactly mean to, but I did and I hurt you and I'm so, so sorry, because just because I think that the room looks like a bordello doesn't mean that I should go throwing around that word and I promise you that I won't say it again ever because you're like practically my brother now and that means that I'm supposed to like, have your back not make you feel like crap and I'm seriously sorry!" Finn took a gasping breath because that was a lot of words he'd just thrown at the guy and he probably should have breathed once or twice during that sentence.

Kurt's mouth dropped open. The silence in the hall was so loud it seemed to buzz in Finn's ears.

"Punctuation, Hudson. You should consider using it," Kurt said finally, but his tone was friendly enough. Finn kept staring at him, not sure what he was trying to say. Kurt sighed.

"Okay. I can accept a red prom dress made out of a plastic shower curtain and a declaration of brotherhood as an adequate apology," Kurt said. Finn stared at him, not completely sure what that meant, and Kurt sighed again. "I forgive you, Finn. The fact that my dad was apparently convinced that you were sorry means a lot to me, and if I'm being honest, I wasn't exactly blameless here. I have to admit that my attempt to blend masculine and feminine energies may not have been as seamless as I'd hoped. Where on earth did you learn the word 'bordello,' anyway?"

"Rachel," Finn said, and Kurt nodded as if that was all the explanation he needed.

"Can we try to be brothers?" Finn asked. He lowered his voice a little. "Or do you still, uh…have a crush on me?" His voice was practically tiny, but it was something he had to ask.

Kurt let out another sigh. "I think we can figure it out," he said. "Trust me…when I was looking for a knight in shining armor…I didn't think the shine was going to be the glare off a red plastic shower curtain."

"So…?" He still wasn't quite sure what Kurt was saying.

"Yes, you big oaf. We can try to be brothers, okay? I'll stop being an idiot, and you can try to stop being an idiot, although I have my doubts, and we'll figure it out." He took a breath. "You did a very good job being a scary bigger brother back there, and I appreciate that you didn't let those Neanderthals beat my face in."

Finn felt his usual lopsided smile light up his face. "So I'm the big brother then?"

"Bigger," Kurt corrected as both boys turned towards the choir room. "I know for a fact that I'm older than you. You're just taller."

Finn grinned and slung his arm around Kurt's neck, ignoring the squawk of protest this caused. "Whatever you say, little brother."

"Finn, I'm older!" Kurt said, trying to pull back from him. Finn mussed the smaller boy's hair and then let out a yelp of his own as Kurt stomped on his foot with one of those crazy shoes of his in retaliation.

"Ow! You jerk!" Finn let go of his friend's neck and hopped away, definitely wounded. Those shoes should be banned as a dangerous weapon!

"Don't mess with the hair, Hudson. Or the next time I redecorate I'm going to paint your side of the room cotton candy pink!"

"You wouldn't!"

"Just try me," Kurt dared him.

Suddenly Rachel's head popped out of the choir room. "Are you boys coming? It's difficult to get started on our rehearsal without our male lead singer and fabulous countertenor. We need the blend of voices." She sounded impatient, and so very Rachel that it made Finn smile.

"Yup. The Hudmel boys are in the house," Finn said, and he didn't miss the genuine smile that crossed Kurt's face at that word. Just one little word. And not even a real word.

Yeah, things were going to be ok.