I began this story with a moment of violent intolerance, so I thought I would end it with exactly the opposite of that. Thank you so much for all the enthusiasm and comments. You kept this story going. : )
The drive home was a short one, and soon Kurt was walking inside his own front door, entering quietly and locking up behind himself as he crept inside. His dad and Carole Hudson were both typical early-birds and light sleepers and he did not wish to disturb them.
It was a surprise, therefore, to find a light on in the living room and his father sitting before the muted television set, drowsing through a set of sports-statistics scrolling across the large screen.
"Dad?" he called softly.
Burt Hummel stirred, breathing deeply as he pulled himself awake. "Hey," he grunted. "How'd it go?"
"Better than I expected. We had dinner, then went skating over at Rinky-Dinks." Kurt paused, and then blurted, "Were you waiting up for me?"
A jaw-cracking yawn delayed his reply and Kurt automatically yawned in response, making Burt laugh. "Sorry about that. And, yeah, I was."
"You didn't have to."
"Sure, I did," he said, shrugging one shoulder. "One of the perks of parenthood; waiting up to see how your kid's first date went. You'll understand one day."
Walking over to the sofa, Kurt laid his jacket neatly aside and plopped down next to his dad. He shifted, happy when the familiar strength of his father's arm dropped around his shoulders and snuggled him in closer. "I wouldn't count on that. Santana kissed me goodnight when I dropped her off. I have to assume she's really good at it, too, but nothing happened."
Understanding his inference, Burt's embrace tightened a little. "So? Just means your kids will be like your friend Rachel."
"Wow, now there's a thought guaranteed to end the Hummel line once and for all."
He laughed when his dad gently tapped his chin with a mock punch. "Smart ass. You know what I mean."
Tipping his head over to rest on his father's shoulder, Kurt said, "I know." After a brief pause and a second, deeper yawn, he said, "Romance may be out of the question, but Santana is really great. She's never seemed like somebody I would want to be friends with before. But now I hope we will."
"Yeah," he agreed, eyes sliding closed against his will. "Santana the Warrior Cheerleader is pretty cool, once you get past the armor."
Burt jogged him a little. "Hey. You aren't making much sense there, buddy. You falling asleep on me?"
"Mmm, hmm," he mumbled, nestling in a little tighter against his father's incredibly comfortable shoulder, for once completely content with the world.
"Just checkin'." With a small chuckle, Burt turned the volume up a little and settled in for a long stay.