Dislcaimer: I own nothing.
A/N: This was written for a prompt over at the glee_angst_meme on livejournal.

Carole is sitting in the living room when Finn comes home from school. He walks straight past her and she waves a little, but he doesn't seem to notice that she's there. She stiffens when she hears his voice rise above the quiet in the kitchen, where she knows Kurt is doing his homework.

"You set them up!"

Kurt sounds amused, "What?"

"You set our parents up?"

"Finn. Our parents are adorable together," Carole smiles at this, "and I wanted to see my Dad smile for once. I figured your mother could give him that."

"The only reason you got our parents together was because you're obsessed with me."

Kurt gasps and she hears his chair squeak as he stands, "Finn, that's not–"

"I don't care what you have to say! Puck was right, wasn't he!" Carole stands up at this; she can always tell when her boy is about to say something stupid.

"Puck doesn't know anything about me."

"He thinks you're a creepy gay kid that has a weird crush on his future step-brother." Carole bursts into the kitchen. Kurt looks like he's trying to decide whether to burst into tears or throw something at Finn; she wouldn't care if he chose the latter.

Kurt sees Carole appear in the doorway and makes a choking noise and the angry red splotches drain from his face. He glances back at Finn and then he spins around and flees. She hears him slam the door, and then his footsteps as he flies down the steps.

She takes a couple steps into the room and turns to face her son; her mouth is pinched into a thin line. "Finn Hudson," her voice is dangerously low and her son pales and cowers before her shorter frame, "I did not raise you that way, and if I ever hear you speak that way again, I will wash your mouth out with soap and Tabasco sauce. Is that clear?" The last three words are emphasized by poking her son, at each word, squarely in the chest.

Finn gulps and nods hurriedly, squeaking out a, "Yes, mom," in a voice that's about three octaves higher than his usual speaking voice.

She nods, almost to herself, and then spins around and follows Kurt down the stairs. She dips her head as she makes it low enough to see into his room. Kurt is sitting at his beautiful make-up table with his head in his hands.

Her foot causes a creak on the stairs and he whips his head up to glance at her in the mirror. She catches a glimpse of his tear-streaked face and then he stands, turning away from her and wiping furiously at his eyes.

She doesn't know him well enough to just pull him in for a well-needed and deserved hug, so she stops about four feet away.

"Sweetie, it's alright to cry," Kurt shakes his head and lets out a tiny, bitter laugh and her heart breaks for him, "Finn shouldn't have said those things to you."

Kurt turns to her, and tears keep pouring down his cheeks but he doesn't bother to wipe them away anymore, "No, he's right. I'm the creepy gay kid who set up his Dad with the boy he had a crush on."

Carole latches onto one word immediately, taking a hopeful little step towards him, "Had?"

Kurt breaks eye contact, but he doesn't move away, "Yes. 'Had.' It fizzled out pretty quickly once you guys moved in with us, but that's why I did it. I did it to get closer to him, and yes, while of course I want my dad to be happy, it wasn't my main objective."

Carole closes the distance between them and puts a hand on each shoulder. Kurt looks surprised; she can't blame him, his father is hardly one to initiate contact on a regular basis and she knows from a conversation with Burt that he hates his own inability to comfort his son as much as he wants to.

"I don't care about that, Kurt. It doesn't matter what you did. You're not creepy and Finn had no right to say that to you. He knew it was hurtful before he said it and I've already told him what I think about that." Kurt smiles tentatively, unsure, and then she wraps her arms around him easily.

It's so much easier than hugging Finn. Kurt fits snugly into her arms and drops his head onto her shoulder. His shoulders shake for a minute but the crying abates quickly; he may be gay, but he's a boy and has a complex about how often he's been crying lately. They part, and then Carole smiles warmly at him.

He turns away to wipe his face clean and apply a small layer of foundation. She stands behind him and leans down to meet his eyes in the mirror, "How about we go see some sappy romantic comedy and ignore our brutish housemates?"

Kurt smiles at her and gets up again, "I think I can get used to having you as a step-mom."