It's kinda nice, having Kurt as a brother, Finn's decided. Especially when he comes home for Christmas break and walks straight towards the kitchen. About an hour later, the house starts to smell really good, and Finn decides to investigate. He finds his stepbrother standing in front of the oven, absolutely covered in flour as he scoops spoonfuls of cookie dough onto a pan. There's already several dozen finished cookies stacked on a plate on the counter, along with three trays of brownies, two of cupcakes, and a small cake.
Kurt doesn't glance up from his scooping.
"Stress relief," he says, "I just took my geometry exam, and it was a bitch. So I'm baking."
Finn gapes a bit at the word 'bitch', because Kurt, like, never curses. But then he picks up a cookie and takes a bite.
"This is amazing!" he exclaims, staring at the half-eaten cookie in awe. He reaches for another.
Kurt slaps his hand away.
"Not yet, I still need to frost them!"
Two hours later, Finn's practically whining at Kurt as he spreads frosting over the cookies. Every surface of the kitchen is covered in baked goods, and Finn's stomach has been growling since he caught the first whiff of junk food. Finally, after what feels like forever, Kurt sets the knife down and looks to Finn.
"Dig in," he says, grabbing for a brownie himself.
Finn does so gladly. He's fully planning on consuming about two-thirds of this alone, since his mom's on a new diet and Kurt won't let Burt touch anything with sugar or fat or taste. And he's sure that Kurt probably eats like a girl, and will only consume two or three bites before he claims to be full.
But Kurt eats the food just as enthusiastically as Finn does. When they've cleared a plate of cookies and half a tray of brownies, Kurt wraps everything up and tells Finn he can have more after dinner.
They both creep to the kitchen at midnight, and between the two, manage to scarf down twenty-four cookies, six cupcakes, and two trays of brownies.
Finn always knew Kurt listened to girly music—he was the most enthusiastic supporter behind the Gaga campaign, after all—but the music blaring from his speakers right now is pretty irritating. When he complains, Kurt shoots him a look and sayas, "Phantom of the Opera is a masterpiece, Finn, don't be ridiculous." He turns back to his phone, texting away, as a shrill woman's voice holds a note for longer than should be possible. The song ends, and Finn braces himself for another just like it. Instead, he hears a familiar intro burst from the speakers, and he turns around in shock.
"Dude!" He practically screams, "Aerosmith?"
Kurt doesn't look up, just cocks an eyebrow, "Yeah? So?"
"Nothing, man, just didn't think it was your style."
"I do listen to things other than show tunes, you know."
"Well yeah," Finn concedes, "I mean, you listen to Madonna and Lady Gaga and stuff..."
Kurt sighs and throws a pillow at him.
It's weird, but Finn and Puck are still kinda friends. Finn doesn't trust him at all anymore, but it's still cool hanging out with him, especially since he's the only person who'll willingly play Mortal Kombat with him for hours on end. So Puck comes over about every other week, and the two claim the living room couch as they procede to beat the crap out of each other virtually.
But one Saturday, Puck's mom calls after only an hour, and Puck stands up, shrugging.
"Sorry, dude," he says, sliding his jacket on, "I need to take my sister to dance practice or something."
"But I was winning!" Finn exclaims, gesturing to the game.
Kurt walks in at that moment, having returned from a seven-hour shopping marathon with Mercedes and Tina.
"Yo, Kurt, mind taking my place?" Puck tosses his controller and stalks out.
Finn sighs, "It's fine dude, you can watch that fashion show or something."
Finn's reaching to turn off the game when Kurt slides onto the couch next to him, saying, "No, I'll play."
Finn shoots him an incredulous look, but shrugs and continues playing.
Ten minutes later, Kurt's kicking his ass, and Finn's thinking that maybe this wasn't such a good idea.
Finn does know that Kurt knows a thing or two about cars. Burt's been a mechanic for nearly thirty years, and Kurt's worked in his shop every summer since he was twelve. So when Finn's driving his mom's minivan and it suddenly sputters and dies, he dials Kurt immediately.
An hour later, he's lounging in Burt's garage as Kurt tinkers with the car. He's bent over the hood, doing complicated things to the car's insides that Finn doesn't entirely understand. Kurt tries to explain stuff, saying something about a "clogged fuel injection", or something, but Finn bores easily and looks around for a magazine or something. There's a stack of automotive catalogues in a corner, but not much else. Until he flips to the bottom of the magazine stack and spots an issue of Vogue, probably left by Kurt.
He glances up, but Kurt's concentrating on the engine. Finn slinks to the floor, flipping through the pages of the magazine. It's not that bad, honestly, cause some of the girls are pretty hot and the clothes are low-cut and tight and all. He's halfway through with reading an article about Gwyneth Paltrow (who's totally smokin' for an old chick) when a shadow falls over the pages. He looks up into Kurt's smirking face.
"Vogue?" he asks, raising his eyebrow.
"The chicks are hot!" Finn argues, but Kurt just wipes his grease-stained hands on a rag and grins.
"Car's all fixed," he says, "I changed the oil, too, and replaced two of the tires. It was in pretty bad shape."
"Thanks man," Finn says, standing up.
They walk past the windows of Burt's office when Finn freezes. Kurt looks confused for a moment, before he looks into the reflection of the windows and laughs before strutting over to the car and sliding into the driver's seat.
That night, Finn laughs as he pictures their reflection again—him, holding a copy of the girliest magazine in the world, and Kurt, with mussed hair and grease stains covering his white t-shirt and jeans.
They sure know how to break stereotypes.