likesboys | or when the day is gone, or when the nights are long

Entry tags:

or when the day is gone, or when the nights are long

So here's what you missed on Glee:

Rachel told Kurt about a lot of the stuff that happens in his near future, including his relationship with Blaine, so Kurt's been holding off on getting close to cute guys while he pines, but he seems worried about what'll happen if Blaine ever arrives on the island — ("Rachel told me that the two of us start dating back home, though, and so I kind of want him here, but that necessarily means giving him a wider choice set. And who knows? Who knows what that might do.") — and it's been harshing his Rocky Horror groove. Then things got messy as Karofsky showed up and Kurt thinks that he's acting all weird and it's making Kurt act all weird too — ("Every single day, I wake up asking how I've gotten here, where I am, and I don't think any of us from Lima are prepared to deal with it just off the bat. So. I want to make sure that you don't have it as rough as I did, but that requires not getting into the rest of it right now. Okay?") — but he kinda feels sorry for the guy, so he's trying to be nice and to freak out a little less. Except then, less than a week later, Santana suddenly disappeared — ("Britt, Santana wouldn't... let you wait out here in the cold. She wouldn't make you wait so long. We should— we should get home.") — and none of the glee club knows what to do about that.

And that's what you missed on... Glee!

Valentine's Day. A holiday invented by greeting card companies to make people feel like crap. No matter how many times Kurt watches Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, he comes back to this line, over and over again, because it seems like every year, it holds true in his life. As the day starts to come to a close, and the sky overhead stretches across in ambers and golds, Kurt's starting to lose hope that the romance of the day will prevail. Were it up to Blaine, and if they indeed fall in love later down the line, Kurt's sure that Blaine would pick today of all days to show up, that he would buy flowers, sing a song. Maybe it's presumptuous to daydream about a guy he hasn't seen in months and who he hasn't shared that purported relationship with, but Valentine's Day makes it impossible for Kurt's imagination to hold still, if only because it seems to be the singular way to stop the aching of his heart.

Melodramatic, perhaps, but he's been practically trained to be just that.

With a daisy in his hand, petals pulled off one by one to questions murmured under his breath, Kurt pulls off the last one with a hiss between his teeth. "Not showing up," he confirms, something that he's honestly known since well before he started plucking petals, but having even chance weigh against him just pulls Kurt's shoulders into a slump as he leans back on the bench right past the garden, arms carefully folded under his neck as he stares at the sky.

"This is so pathetic," he mutters to himself, rolling his eyes as he turns onto his side, curled on the bench and tugging his riding cloak closer around his frame. He doesn't feel like moving just yet.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It's easily been the strangest day Finnick's yet encountered on the island. Barring the day of his arrival, of course. Since the moment he arrived at the Compound to find Jason on the roof in a pink cape singing to a mango and calling him Simba, it's only gotten weirder.

And, as he's been told countless times, it's supposedly some kind of holiday. A holiday for celebrating love from the sounds of it. And, though it doesn't sound like such a bad idea in theory, he's not too sure about the apparent customs.

He's on his way back to his hut when he notices someone sitting on the bench by the garden and it takes only a moment for him to recognize who it is.

"Kurt?" he asks as he gets closer, brow creasing even as he gives a friendly, if wary smile. He can't help wondering if the kid will also break out into song or not. Though he's willing to bet he has a much better voice than Jason at least.

Blinking at the voice, Kurt shakes himself out of his reverie, quickly moving to sit up straight and glancing about until his gaze finally lands on Finnick, lips quickly curving into a smile. He lets out a slow, careful breath, not wanting to give away the fact that his heart had practically leapt into his throat from the surprise. He hasn't been expecting anyone to really want to hang out with him today, between the strange behavior that's plaguing some individuals and the morose front that anyone in their right minds would see in Kurt. Put simply, he's not really great company. Too broody.

Unless someone's miserable, then maybe he's exactly what the doctor would prescribe.

But Finnick doesn't seem to be the kind of person who mopes in the same way that Kurt does, and to Kurt's credit, he tries to pull himself together for the time being. The guy's nice, and deserves not to be hanging around someone who's whining quite so much.

"Hey," he greets, trying his best to smile. "Finnick. Um... fancy seeing you here. Looks like you're unaffected by the madness spreading around today?"

"Am I?" Finnick asks with a wide smile and an easy laugh. He doesn't ask if Kurt wants company or wait for an invitation before taking a seat next to him. "Or am I one of the few affected and it's everyone else who's acting normal?"

It's meant to be a joke, but there's a part of Finnick that's absolutely serious. If there anything he's learned in this place, it's to question everything. Especially his own sanity.

There's a fondness in Kurt's eyes as Finnick sits down— and, although he'd never know how to admit it, an equal amount of admiration. He's always been attracted to the confident types. It doesn't have to be loud or brazen in the way that Kurt tries to be, himself. There's no need to two divas in a relationship. But he's always been attracted to the more quiet kind of confidence, the one that doesn't question itself, and Finnick seems to have that. He might be more flirtatious than Blaine is, exactly (except when encouraged by the sales at the GAP, apparently), but there are enough similarities that Kurt feels a slight twist in his stomach as Finnick settles next to him on the bench.

"A good question to ask yourself, but probably a far worse question to be asking me. From where I'm sitting, you're just there, as handsome as ever," he shrugs.

Finnick isn't exactly unaccustomed to compliments, and the past several years haven't made him grow immune to them so much as constantly question their intent. But there's a sincerity in Kurt's tone that Finnick can't ignore, a harmless and genuine admiration that warms him.

"I could say the same for you," he replies with a slight nod in his direction. "Though, I have to say, you look much more subdued than most of the people I've seen today. Keeping in mind, I was serenaded from the rooftop earlier this afternoon.

Letting out a disbelieving sigh, Kurt hopes to high heaven that his cheeks aren't flushing as much as he feels that they must be, too warm for his liking and impossible to stamp down in the balmy island weather. It's just a compliment, sure, but it's not one that he's received all too often from people. People will commend his sense of fashion, or occasionally the amount of height that he gets from his hair, but Kurt's never been really the handsome one, not at McKinley (Puck and Mike are the ones who make people swoon) and not at Dalton (Blaine, obviously). It's attention of an unexpected sort.

Kurt figures that Finnick's just being nice, though. He seems like that kind of guy.

"Yes, well, even if I did have a special someone today, or decided that I would play along and make you the erstwhile target of my affections, I wouldn't go nearly so bold. There's something lovely about the subtler things, I think," Kurt muses, raising his chin with a shake of his head. "The brush of fingertips, for instance."

Finnick watches Kurt intently as he talks, lips curling in an ever-fonder smile before he rests back against the bench and spreads his arms, one half curling behind Kurt's shoulders.

And he can't help thinking of Annie, of course, the way she'd snuck up on him slowly and with no warning at all. There'd been no bold proclamations between them, no serenading. He'd simply woken up one morning and realized he couldn't live without her, that he would die to keep her safe. And he'd never really needed to tell her as much; she understood in that way of hers. She always did.

Swallowing tightly, he shoves all those memories to the back of his mind before they can overwhelm him, before they compel him to say things he shouldn't. All this talk of love throughout the day has battered him nearly bloody; Annie is safest locked away in his mind where people can barely know she exists much less what she means to him.

So he takes a breath, slow and calming. Then lightly rests a hand on Kurt's arm, thumb moving back and forth in a slow caress. "Erstwhile?" he says with a small, quiet smile.

Kurt's first thought is purely aimed at the fact that apparently, apparently, he may have misjudged. His gaydar might be off. And it comes as such a surprise that all he can manage is a slow blink in Finnick's direction, eyes wide at the subtle touch. He could have sworn that Finnick's just that kind of straight man, the one altogether knowing of how far he can fell the people around him, but ultimately only choosing that single girl to give his heart away to. (Puck toes this line more often than not.)

But the caress is intentional, it's thought through, and Kurt would rather believe that Finnick's not the type to purposely lead someone on.

What he also knows, however, and with greater certainty, is that he doesn't want to do any of this yet, not like this, not when his hopes haven't come down from the thought of Blaine just yet.

"Hypothetically speaking," he stammers, feeling his face flush.

"Hypothetically," Finnick echoes, holding back a laugh while letting his smile widen. He's not mocking Kurt and hopes to make that more clear by spreading his palm wide across Kurt's upper arm and giving a gentle squeeze.

Kurt's face is flushed an adorable pink and, though Finnick is laying it on quite thick, he can tell the boy is holding back. It seems that kind of day for it.

So Finnick softens a little, his hand moving to rest at Kurt's back as he cocks his head to the side. "So who are you waiting for?"

Kurt isn't sure how to explain the strange knot that seems to catch in his throat when Finnick's hand comes to rest at his back, how there's a part of him that yearns for this very kind of touch, but in a relationship, in a committed setting where the pair comes together to celebrate love, and being a part of one another. It probably makes him a hopeless romantic, Kurt thinks to himself. Maybe Finnick would laugh. He doesn't seem to be the kind of guy who'd have a hard time finding someone to call his own.

"Was it that obvious?" he asks instead, shaking his head with a soft laugh. "I'm... waiting for a guy. My best friend, really, if we're to be honest. But people tell me that he and I start dating at some point in the future, past the moment I arrived from. I have absolutely no reason to believe that he'll ever make it to the island, and honestly it might be better if I was the one to take a hike over to his neighborhood instead, but it's Valentine's Day. And all I can really think about is him."

Finnick can't say he's surprised by Kurt's answer, though he is surprised by his open honesty. Of course, it could just be the day, just another strange occurrence on this increasingly strange island, but Finnick feels like it must be more than that. Kurt just seems the type.

It doesn't help that the words are similar to those Finnick is trying his hardest to keep back. By his estimations, it's been a month now. A month since he mysteriously arrived or a month since he crossed the line of sanity and woke up here. A month and there's been no single sign of Annie. Her absence is the only thing to make him believe this island might actually be real; there's no way his mind would conceive of a place where she isn't with him.

"I know how you feel," he finally manages, not moving his hand. "I don't... I'm sorry, Kurt. I wish I could do or say something to make you feel better. I wish I could bring him here for you."

"No, don't wish that for him," Kurt laughs, even as he blinks heavily at the weight of Finnick's hand, still pressed there against his back. It takes a while to pull himself back together, emotions already on a high today, because he knows what Valentine's Day can be like for people, and knows just as well how unlikely it is for him to achieve that same dream. His parents used to be so loving on this day, pulling close, pressing kisses. And although Kurt knows that he has the opportunity for that here on the island, strangely accepting as it is, it's not where he sees himself staying for the rest of his life. Whether or not he can ever have a Valentine's Day where people don't judge? He's not sure.

Sometimes, that's the most depressing part of it all.

"He... is the kind of person who is going to be so successful back home. And I don't want to take that from him. I don't want to derail him for a single day, let alone the months that we usually stay here," he points out with a faint shrug. "I'd rather be the one to go home and see it, you know? Or even take people from here with me."

That's not something Finnick's thought of, the idea that he might bring people he's met here back to Panem. Maybe because he wouldn't want to. Not until after the rebellion is successful, if the rebellion is successful.

"Why can't he be successful here?" he asks, still rubbing Kurt's back gently, trying to be as comforting as he can without descending into condescending by mistake. "Don't you think he'd be happier? If he's in a relationship with you, I imagine he'll be happy wherever you are. And isn't that what matters?"

"Finnick, I— I haven't been there for a day of this relationship," Kurt murmurs, fingers brushing along the line of his brow as he shakes his head. "I left from before we ever, before I could ever begin to believe that he liked me that way. Can I really trust Rachel to be able to tell that the two of us are made for each other? In love with each other?"

He lets out a breath he never realized that he was holding, shaky as it passes through his lips. "Back home, to find a boy that loves another boy like that is rare. To find one brave enough to be open about it, even rarer. But here, there's no stigma. It's not a game of numbers. Not to mention that no matter how you look at it, any dreams of our own to make it big in theater or song, it's just not the same pursuing it while living in a group of less than three hundred people."

Finnick frowns as Kurt continues, watching him carefully.

Gently, he moves his hand from Kurt's back to his shoulder, gently nudging Kurt to look at him, to meet his eyes.

"This boy you like," he says, choosing his words carefully, wanting to make sure he has it right, "is he the kind of person who would choose fame over love? And what about this friend of yours, Rachel? Do you really think she would lie to you or try to give you false hope?"

His lips still tugged in a frown, Finnick reaches to brush his thumb against Kurt's jawline. There's nothing forward in the motion, nothing more than a concerned and friendly touch. "It's not that I don't think you have every reason to be upset, that's not it. But you don't seem like the hopeless type to me. Am I wrong?"

Kurt glances up when prompted, brows furrowed with thought— he hates always coming back to this, he hates how starved for affection he feels whenever he gets to thinking about Blaine. But sometimes, he reminds himself of the fact that Blaine's just about the best friend he's ever had. Is it strange to be worried about the health of that relationship?

No, probably not.

"I... no, he wouldn't pick fame over love. That's nothing like him," Kurt admits, shaking his head. "When he loves someone, or even when he thinks he loves someone, he has a tendency to go all out. And Rachel— she's very capable of lying to me, but she doesn't have a reason to do that with this."

His gaze slides to the side again at the last question, unsure how to reply.

Finnick doesn't miss the way Kurt avoids his last question, the way he looks away in the face of it. Arching an eyebrow, Finnick waits for him to answer and, when it doesn't come decides to let it go, dropping his hand to again rest it on Kurt's shoulder.

"I don't know what to do or say to make you feel better, Kurt," he says, deciding to go with full honesty. "I wish I did. All I can tell you is you're not alone. And there may be nobody here who can replace this guy -- and, trust me, I understand that completely -- there are people here who care about you. For now, maybe that can be enough?"

Without warning, Kurt splits into a wide smile, giving his shoulder a little shrug as though in thanks for the support and the attention, but the last thing that he wants Finnick to believe is that he's been spending all of his time on the island moping. (There's been a fair amount, to be sure, but if there's anything that Kurt's learned lately, it's that keeping a positive mentality ends up making just about everything better, at least in part.)

"I know I'm not alone. Really, I'm okay— I don't mean to sound all overly melodramatic and 'oh, why me.' I'm just a little self-indulgent because it's Valentine's Day. The holiday we typically hope and strive to spend with our significant other," Kurt explains, shaking his head at himself. "Beyond the lack of romance, I honestly have no reason to complain about who's here and who isn't."

Kurt isn't the first to explain this Valentine's Day phenomenon to Finnick, but he still isn't quite sure if the strange behavior of some of the island's residents have anything to do with normal customs and, if so, what it has to do with romance.

"Well," Finnick says with a deep breath. "I suppose we might as well make the best of it." Then, grinning wide, he leans in to press a kiss to Kurt's cheek.

Cheeks immediately flushing a deep pink— Kurt wouldn't be surprised if they directly warmed up under Finnick's touch, even if that thought's somehow twice as mortifying— Kurt pulls back with wide eyes and a raised hand. "Whoa, whoa, okay, hold on," he stammers, taking a moment to glance down towards his knee and gather himself, before looking up again.

"So... are you kissing me on the cheek because that's just a thing you do?" Kurt asks, squinting. "Or because you thought my reaction would be cute? Or... or what?"

Finnick pulls back a little when Kurt jerks away, though his smile doesn't waver any even as the boy squints at him.

"I'm just trying to make you smile," he says with an easy shrug. "That's all." Then, taking a breath, he squeezes Kurt's shoulder and sits back a little further. "Because you deserve some happiness on a day like today, Kurt. We're supposed to be celebrating love and romance. Even if the man you love isn't here. So smile because you know him if nothing else. You know he's out there. He exists. And then smile because a giant man from the future gave you kiss because that man couldn't be here to do it himself."

Though it comes first with a snort, Kurt does manage a slightly wry grin at the explanation, something that seems... well, it seems very appropriate to Finnick, someone Kurt surely doesn't know all that well, but who can be read in part from the smiles that he wears with him at all times.

"You and I, sir, see Valentine's Day on completely different levels," he informs Finnick, brow arched as Kurt crosses his legs at the knee. "Or, well— no, that's not quite right, forgive me. You're able to smile in spite of missing so much. And I'm not quite there. I tend to mope and make the whole world very acutely aware of my life's shortcomings, in fact." Jokingly, he glances at the sky.

"Figure I'm not going to knock the sympathy vote."

He doesn't mention that the smile is a shield, one he's forged and carried for years in an attempt to keep the things that claw within him at bay. Doesn't mention how it's easier to pretend to be okay than it is to be so for real and how 'the sympathy vote' as Kurt calls it doesn't work when Finnick can't deny that he's deserved most of what he's endured.

"So is that what this day means for you then?" he asks, keeping that smile locked on his face. "A good reason to wallow? Because, I can tell you, that is absolutely no way to celebrate romance."

Of course, Finnick will likely spend his evening like he does any other, curled in his bed alone, aching for the one person in this world or any other who truly completes him. But then, he's never claimed to not be a hypocrite.

While Kurt isn't exactly put out by the fact that Finnick's pointing out, rightfully, that moping around on Valentine's Day is about the most miserable course of action Kurt can take, there comes a certain point where he's pretty sure that being honest is all that Kurt can really do. What's he supposed to act like, otherwise? The people he's closest to on the island either have functional relationships there, or solid relationships to eventually return to.

Kurt would have to hang his hat on a relationship that he hasn't even begun to experience.

It's a little hard to have faith in that.

"Okay. So... tell me, then," Kurt tilts his head. "How do you plan on celebrating?"

Finnick's lips flicker into a crooked smile as he lets out a huff of a breath. Any truth he tells will contradict everything he's already advised, but could also make Kurt maybe not feel so alone in his misery. Or, Finnick could lie and laugh it off and try again to just make the kid smile.

So he aims for something that's a little of both.

"The same way I spend every evening, I imagine. I'll go back to my hut alone, fall asleep alone, and wake up alone." And probably screaming, he leaves out. "But maybe I'll dream something good for a change. You never know."

"Gee," Kurt remarks, both brows raising almost incredulously. In a way, he can appreciate Finnick's candor; on another level, the prospects that the young man's laid out are almost saddening, and all too easy for Kurt to relate to. "Looks like we've got the same plans, but I'm finding myself wondering at your strange and eerie ability to make it almost sound like watching a movie on Friday night."

Raising his knuckles to his chin and resting them there thoughtfully, his gaze running over the features that Kurt couldn't imagine women and men didn't chase after in Finnick's world, he posits another question.

"You don't want to be alone though, do you?"

"Does anybody?" Finnick remarks, pasting on a very small grin, one that curves his lips only at the corner.

In his experience, nobody truly wants to be alone. Not even Katniss though she may loudly proclaim otherwise. And staving off loneliness had been one of his primary duties in the Capitol, a hired hand to help a lonely, rich citizen through the darker nights.

But it's not a question meant to be answered out loud and Finnick sits up with a heavy breath, his hand again resting warm on Kurt's back. "Maybe we can keep each other company tonight, Kurt." And, before the kid can protest or leap to conclusions, he adds with a knowing grin, "Nothing scandalous, I swear. Just a walk or a swim. Or maybe you can teach me a song."

There are people who immediately come to mind when Finnick asks, but only people he's met since landing on the island, people whom he must speak of with more of a grain of salt, because there's only so much one can learn about another person in a few months. He keeps his lips sealed at the thought, before sighing when Finnick rests his hand against his back again— and deciding not to fight it.

(Honestly, it's... kind of nice.)

"Can you even sing?" he jokes, and the smile on his lips may be somewhat halfhearted, but it's genuine. Thankful. Enough that Kurt scoots over once, just enough to bump his shoulder against Finnick's.

"Not even a little," Finnick says with an easy laugh, pleased to see Kurt smiling again, how ever small. Regardless of how charming Finnick knows he is, he can't work miracles. Considering Kurt isn't flat out telling Finnick to leave him alone, he's calling it a win.

"Unless there's alcohol involved," he quick amends. "Then I'm amazing."

Raising both brows, Kurt chuckles under his breath, somehow easily able to picture every second of it. He's the singing, laughing type of drunk, Kurt imagines, if only because he can't really picture the guy allowing himself to mope around for long at all.

"Well," he says with a slight shake of his head. "You can count on that not being an option for the both of us. A glass of wine, perhaps, but no more than that."

"Not a big drinker then," Finnick says, still smiling at Kurt fondly as he nods. "That's good. That makes sense." Kurt isn't the type who needs it, not the way Haymitch does or even the way Finnick does from time to time. He's pure in a way no victor can be, but not as oblivious or ignorant as a Capitol citizen. It's a good balance, Finnick thinks.

Clapping his hand against Kurt's back, Finnick gets to his feet with a sigh of preparation. "Alright, teach me. I apologize in advance for hurting your ears, but I promise I'll do my best."

There's the perfect song that comes to mind. "Nothing In My Way," by Keane. Blaine has always been a bigger fan of the group than Kurt is, but there are certain songs of theirs that Kurt feels that he can intimately understand, and that song happens to be one of them. Perhaps it says something that the majority of songs that he turns to are somehow bitter, upset— they're easier to identify with than the happy love songs.

"If, on the off-chance," he says, getting to his feet and brushing off his pants, "you happen to know the song, you'll have to stop me. But the title is 'Nothing In My Way.' It'll have more of an impact if we head on over to the Compound piano."

Laughing a little, Finnick shakes his head as he gets to his own feet. "I think it's pretty safe to assume I don't," he says before nodding for Kurt to lead the way.

There's every possibility that the piano in the Compound is currently being occupied by another drunken island resident, but it's certainly worth trying. And, if nothing else, Finnick is pleased to see Kurt smiling again with a renewed purpose. He drops a companionable hand on Kurt's shoulder as they start walking, glad to spend a little more time outside of the dark loneliness of his hut.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

or when the day is gone, or when the nights are long

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject