Title: Good Day.

Pairing: Finn/Puck, Kurt.

Warnings: Angst.

Word Count: 992

Rating: PG-13 I guess? I hate ratings.

Spoilers: None.

Disclaimer: Glee does not belong to me, these characters aren't mine, they would never do these things, I mean no disrespect, blah blah blah…Good Day belongs to The Dresden Dolls. Go read the lyrics—it'll make more sense.

Author's Note: Fill for a glee_kink_meme prompt:

Finn/Puck, Kurt

Kurt catches them going at it in his bed.

I've been having trouble writing things that aren't angst lately. Sorry, guys! I promise Kurt will get a happy ending one day!

Also, apologies for the fact that this is the second time I've posted this story. I accidentally put up my rough draft, and it was terribly embarrassing and I needed to fix it right away. Here's the right version and though I can't guarantee there are no typos, it should make a lot more sense than the first one…

Good Day.

Kurt was not having a good day. Sue had been particularly awful, Mr. Schue had given yet another solo to Rachel instead of him, and Finn had skipped out on Glee practice so he hadn't even had eye candy to distract him. He sat in his car, in his driveway, listening to The Phantom of the Opera soundtrack for the billionth time, lacking the energy to get up and go inside.

Kurt looked sadly at the pile of textbooks on the passenger seat. He really should go in, get started on his homework. If he didn't, he'd be up all night, and he didn't need to put any more stress on his complexion. He heaved a huge sigh, gathered his things, and went inside, cutting off the phantom mid-lament. He trudged to the front door and started fishing through his bag for his keys when he noticed the door was unlocked. He opened it, confused. There was no chance he had forgotten, and his dad certainly hadn't. Was Finn home? Maybe he had gotten sick and come home early. Kurt walked in, closing and locking the door behind him.

"Hello?" he called, hanging his coat on the coat rack, making sure it wouldn't wrinkle. "Anyone home?" No answer. He walked into the kitchen, poured himself a glass of water, and headed to his room. He was halfway down the stairs when he first heard the noises—a quiet gasp, immediately followed by a moan.

"Finn?" he asked. "Are you alright?" He walked down a few more steps before his bed came into view. His eyes widened, his mouth opened and his hand sagged and the glass crashed to the steps, shattering and spilling water everywhere.

Puck jerked away from Finn, grabbing for the sheet, trying to cover himself. Finn seemed a few steps behind, blinking like a dear in headlights.

"What the hell are you doing?" Kurt yelled. He was suddenly hard, almost painfully so, and hated himself for it.

"Dude, relax," Puck said, though he wouldn't meet Kurt's eyes. "We were just fooling around."

"You were not just fooling around!" Kurt shrieked, voice becoming shrill. "You were having sex! In my bed!" He felt tears threatening, hated himself even more. "Why the hell would you do that?"

"Kurt, I—"

He whirled to face Finn, eyes blazing. "Don't you dare talk to me. I can't believe you." The tears started to fall and he brushed them away angrily. "How could you do this to me?" Finn opened his mouth to answer, but Kurt cut him off. "Never mind. I don't give a fuck. Do whatever you want." He went back upstairs and out to his car in a daze, hardly able to think.

Finn was gay? He wasn't sure if that should be his first question, but he couldn't seem to get past it. The phantom came back on, but he didn't notice. Finn was gay. Finn was gay, and he was having sex with Puck. Finn was gay, and he liked to bottom. Kurt felt his erection twitch, and a fresh wave of tears spilled down his cheeks. Finn was gay, but he still didn't want him.

It wasn't fair. It had been a comfort, in an odd sort of way, that he was straight. That way it wasn't something wrong with Kurt, it was just that he happened to be the wrong gender. But now…Now Finn was gay. Kurt leaned his head on the steering wheel, gripping it with both hands, trying to pull himself together. Finn was gay. Finn was gay and he was…what? In love with Puck? Or were they just fuck buddies? Kurt didn't know which would be worse.

There was a knock on his window. Kurt jumped, wiping furiously at his tears. "Go away," he said, trying to not look at the thin sheen of sweat on Finn's chest, or how it accentuated his muscles. He had managed to put on a pair of jeans, but Kurt was pretty sure they belonged to Puck.

Finn made a motion asking him to roll down his window. "We need to talk."

"Leave me alone." Kurt turned his car completely on and put it in reverse, preparing to back out of his driveway.

"Please."

Finn's expression was so sincere that Kurt couldn't help himself. He kept his car on but rolled down the window, refusing to look him in the eye. "I don't know what you could possibly say to make up for that."

"I'm sorry." The words might have been a cliché, but Kurt could hear that he meant them, and it did help, a little. "I've been meaning to tell you about me and Puck, I just couldn't find the right time."

Any progress he had made was immediately undone. "How long have you been together?" he asked quietly, feeling a part of himself break.

"Not that long," Finn said. "A couple weeks." Kurt's stomach knotted, and he had to work to not start crying again. "I really did want to tell you."

"Oh," Kurt whispered, the word falling from his lips. "Congratulations."

Finn looked pained. "I didn't want to hurt you."

The anger reared up again, momentarily overpowering his pain. "You didn't want to hurt me?" he asked, voice rising. "Then why did you have to have sex in my bed, Finn? There are a hundred other places you could've gone, not the least of which was your own bed."

Finn looked away, a blush creeping up his neck. "I, uh, didn't notice. We were kind of…um…"

"Just shut up," Kurt snapped. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes, trying to center himself. "I'm leaving now. Puck can stay; I don't know when I'll be home. Definitely not tonight." He closed his window and drove off, glancing once in his rearview mirror. Finn stood at the end of the driveway wearing nothing but Puck's jeans, looking miserable.

Good, Kurt thought. I hope it hurts.