Wanted to thank Graces of the Child and Niblett for being betas
Chapter 1 Spaghetti and Road TripsBurt Hummel was dead on his feet by the time he got off work; the sudden surplus of customers was stressful but welcome, especially in this economy. Spring break was nearing and folks wanted to ensure that their vehicles were in good condition for travelling so by the time he got home it was already dark.
Kurt was home – Burt knew immediately because his SUV was in the garage – and Burt smiled when he heard his son singing in the kitchen. He tried his legitimate best with his son, but it seemed that they were oil and water sometimes; he loved Kurt, even if he didn't understand him all of the time. Their awkwardness unfortunately caused them to spend more time apart than together. Kurt usually just cooped himself up in his room doing whatever he did, but he was glad that he wasn't tonight. It was nice to see him after a long day at work.
As he neared the kitchen, he was hit with a delicious aroma and his stomach growled; he had been working so hard he must have skipped lunch. He followed the smell, hopeful that it was for him.
Kurt was dancing in front of the stove and using his stirring spoon as a microphone. He had his headphones on and was apparently unaware that he had an audience. Burt listened as his son hit notes that he wasn't aware that a boy could; he knew Kurt had bragged about hitting high notes but he really wasn't aware of what he was talking about. He leaned against the doorframe and smiled. Kurt sounded like an angel and Burt wished his mother was here to hear it.
In many ways, she still was: Kurt was wearing the pink apron that he had gotten her for Christmas one year; she had always loved to cook and Kurt was always so eager to help; she had even brought him a little blue apron – he cried because it wasn't pink.
Kurt screamed, throwing his hands in the air. In his frenzy, he dropped his spoon and splattered sauce all over the floor. Burt laughed out loud and shook his head. Kurt was breathing heavily and clenching his heart as his father walked over and picked up the spoon.
"You scared me!"
Burt shrugged, still smiling, and looked past him at the stove "Is this for school or…"
"Oh no," Kurt took off his headphones and hung them around his neck, "This is for us; it'll be ready in five." His smile faded briefly as he saw his open laptop on the table. His father walked past and with a clean spoon, scooped some sauce and tasted it. Kurt used the distraction to slip by and quickly shut the laptop.
Burt turned around and looked at the laptop and then at Kurt; his son was searching his expression to determine if he had seen what was on the screen, and after deciding he was safe he smiled, leaning against the table, "If you want to wait in the living room I'll bring you a plate and a cold one?"
"Are you sure?" He looked at the table, "You are usually pretty insistent that we eat in here."
Kurt brushed back his hair, "It is traditional, but I wanted to show you something on the television. Multitasking," he said with a small laugh and a shrug.
Burt nodded and walked past his son into the living room; he usually ate dinner in there anyway when Kurt was down stairs or out with his friends. As he sat, he thought about what he'd glimpsed on Kurt's lap top. He'd pretended not to have seen but the colors had caught his attention, and it was either men wearing dresses or very ugly women. He loved his son dearly but he hoped that Kurt didn't want to start wearing dresses; he didn't think he was ready for that.
Kurt walked in with a plate of spaghetti and, as promised, a cold beer. He then walked out of the room and returned with plate of his own – and a much smaller portion, which made Burt wonder if Kurt was watching his weight or something – and a bottle of water.
"I found a show that I thought we would equally enjoy," he said took the remote, searching his recorded shows and going past Project Runway and Gossip Girl to Overhauling. Burt sighed: he was just glad that Kurt wanted to spend time with him, even if it was watching one of "his" shows.
"It's about taking old cars and making them fabulous; basically a make-over for cars," said he looked for approval in his father.
"You're into this?" He asked. It was definitely a show he would enjoy, but he didn't think Kurt would.
"Oh, yes. Makeovers are like crack to me."
Burt nodded slowly and turned back to the television, eating his supper and watching Kurt out of the corner of his eye. His son had finished about half of what was on his plate before sitting it down and continuing to watch the show.
After finishing, Burt turned towards his son, "Okay," he laughed, "What do you want?"
Kurt looked shocked and then realized his dad wasn't falling for it, "Okay. Spring Break."
"No, I'm too busy at the shop," he interrupted.
"I'm 16. I can go on my own?" Kurt suggested.
"Key West, Florida."
His father learned forward, "No, Kurt. You're too young to go off all by yourself."
"Wait." Kurt stuck his hand out as a brilliant idea came to him, "Are you saying if I get someone to go with me, I can go?"
Burt felt cornered, "No, I'm not saying that. I don't even know what you're going to be doing. Is this a beach?"
Kurt nodded. "It's a very popular tourist attraction: southern most point of the United States, fabulous spring break destination."
Burt shook his head, wondering what his mother would have done, "I'm not paying for it."
"I have enough money saved for my hotel and the trip," Kurt leaned forward eagerly, hoping that his dad was about to give – just in case, he was giving him the "puppy dog" eyes.
"And you can't go alone – no exceptions. You're small… Something might happen to you."
Kurt rolled his eyes, "I have a taser."
"That's my terms, and you have to call every day… No, twice a day."
Kurt jumped up and hugged his father, "Thank you!"
He ran down the stairs to his room, texting as he went. He had to plan so much for his trip; he couldn't believe his dad said yes.
He went into his wardrobe, picking out his most complimentary outfits, when he received a text that sank his heart.
He quickly called Mercedes, talking before she could manage a greeting, "What do you mean you can't go?"
"I'm sorry, Kurt. My dad won cruise tickets."
Kurt was silent for a moment, "You're breaking my heart."
Mercedes thought for a moment, "Listen, you need to start thinking of solutions instead of complaining." She was used to giving her boy some hard love.
"Like what?" he asked and wiped away a tear, knowing that his dad wouldn't let him go alone.
Mercedes sighed heavily, "Why don't you ask someone else?"
Kurt thought for a moment; although Mercedes was his first choice, she did have a point. "Okay… But I'm going to still need your help with planning. Spring Break is only a week away."
"You got it."
They said their goodbyes before Kurt fell on top of his bed and looked at his ceiling., wondering who he was going to ask and how.