Disclaimer: Glee belongs to Ryan Murphy and Fox, not me.


"Dad. Dad. Hold still, Dad."

"I can't. You're going to stick me with one of those pins."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "I'll only stick you if you move," he said. "Now hold still."

Burt sighed and did his best to obey. It was just a little hard to keep from shifting anxiously when he knew that his son had a pincushion, and he wasn't sure if he knew how to use it. "I don't see why you have to alter my shirt," he said. "It fits just fine."

"Fine works if you were wearing this ensemble for Sunday mass," Kurt said absently as he carefully pinned down the side of the shirt. "This is your wedding, Dad. You need to look perfect. Whether you like it or not."

Kurt pulled a straight pin out of the shirt and stuck it between his lips as he experimentally folded the fabric. "It's just a day, Kurt," Burt pointed out. "I mean, sure, I'm thrilled to be marrying Carole, but I don't need to have some sort of fancy monkey suit to make it special."

Kurt pulled the pin from his lips and stuck it through the fabric. "You deserve a nice wedding," he said. "You didn't get a real wedding when you married Mom, so you should have one now."

Burt studied their reflections thoughtfully as Kurt continued to fuss over him. "I still wish I could have given her a real wedding," he said. "Of all people, she deserved it. I told her we could wait, but she didn't want to. She told me she'd rather have a shotgun wedding at the courthouse right then than a fancy wedding later."

"She was also four months pregnant," Kurt pointed out. "If you had only checked those condoms before you went on that camping trip…"

"Then we wouldn't have gotten you," Burt reminded him. "And besides, if she hadn't gotten pregnant with you, then maybe I wouldn't have had the chance to marry her before…"

His voice trailed off. While he and his son often reminisced about Mollie, they rarely mentioned the long illness that slowly drained her life away. Eight years could smooth over many wounds, but some injuries were just too deep to heal. Kurt kept his eyes down, busying himself with the straight pins. "You know that marrying Carole doesn't change how much I loved your mom," Burt said quietly.

"I know," Kurt said.

Burt took the pins out of his hand. "Kiddo, look at me," he said. Kurt obeyed, albeit reluctantly. "Listen, I love Carole. She's one of the best things that's happened to us in a long time. She's got one of the biggest hearts of any woman I've ever met."

Kurt nodded, his lips pressing together. Burt closed his hand gently over his shoulder. "But your mom is always gonna have a special place in my heart," he said. "She was my high school sweetheart, and I loved her. I still love her. And you can bet your ass that next May we're still going to go visit her grave and you can bring her those daisies that she always liked."

Kurt's eyes were beginning to well up. "Dad, I know you won't forget about her," he said. "And I won't either."

"I know," Burt said. He reached up and brushed a stray escaping tear from Kurt's cheek with his thumb. "And you know why?"

Kurt shook his head. Burt turned him gently towards the mirror. "Because you look just like her," he said.

Kurt smiled a little at that. "Really?"

"Really," Burt said. "You've got her eyes. And her dimple. You're smart, and you've got her voice, and sometimes you're just as sassy as she was. Stubborn, too." Kurt laughed a little, that dimple popping in his cheek. "And you've got her eyes."

"They're sort of like yours too," Kurt added.

"Yeah, well, your mom was a lot prettier than I ever was, just be glad you took after her," Burt said.

He looked at his son in the mirror, and realized for the first time just how tall Kurt was. His cheeks had thinned out a little, and the bones of his neck were a little more pronounced. He toyed a little with the tape measure draped over his shoulders, smiling at himself as if mentally comparing his reflection to the photos of his mother, his cheeks turning a little rosy. For the first time, Burt saw that his little boy wasn't quite as little as he thought anymore.

"You know she'd be real proud of you," Burt said quietly.

"Really?" Kurt said.

"Definitely," Burt replied. "You're a good kid, Kurt."

He wanted to say more, but he couldn't find the words. Words had never been his strong point. Kurt continued to fidget with the tape measure, winding it around his fingers and pulling it away. "Dad?" he ventured. "Do you think…that Mom would have minded…that I'm gay?"

He didn't even have to pause to think up an answer. "No," he said. "Not at all." He grinned. "I figured it out when you were three. She had you figured out long before that."

"Why?" Kurt said.

"Oh, c'mon, Kurt, you've heard all those stories a million times," Burt said. But Kurt's eyes were dancing eagerly, and, well… 'no' had never been a common phrase in his vocabulary when it came to his son. "You remember the first time we took you to see the Nutcracker?"

"Vaguely," Kurt said. "I was four. Most of what I remember from that time period involved Disney movies and a lot of naptimes."

"I didn't want to take you," Burt confessed. "I thought it was…you know. Girly. Your mom told me off. Said she wouldn't stand for me acting like that. And she was right."

Kurt smiled. "And now you take me every year," he said.

Burt shrugged. "It's tradition," he said. He smoothed Kurt's hair back. "I wish you could have had her around when you growing. Life would have been a lot easier for you with a mom."

"I think I've turned out pretty well without one," Kurt said. "I'd say you've done a fairly decent job of raising me on my own."

"I think that was more you already being a good kid rather than my amazing parenting," Burt snorted. He glanced down at the yellow-tipped straight pins in the cuff of his shirt. "Now, are you done sticking me with those things, or can I be done?"

Kurt stepped back, eyeing him critically. "I suppose you're done," he sighed. "I'll work on it tonight and you can try it on again tomorrow so we can make sure it fits."

"Good," Burt said. "At least this is the only time I'll have to go through this."

"Don't be silly," Kurt said, busying himself with tidying his sewing kit. "Just wait until it's my wedding."

Burt froze, suddenly envisioning his son walking down the aisle to a faceless man in a dark suit. "Kiddo, you're not hiding a boyfriend from me, are you?" he said.

"What? Oh, god, no," Kurt said. "Believe me, when I start dating, I'll introduce you to him. After I've warned him that you're a touch overprotective. And after I've hidden your flamethrower."

Burt shook his head. "I swear to God, Kurt, you're not allowed to get married until you're forty-five," he said.

Kurt rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Really, Dad?" he said. "Really?"


Author's Notes:

This has been on my "to be written" list since November, but seeing as how my "to be written" list is a page and a half long, and many of them are long multichapter stories...well...I didn't write it. But I follow bethandbee on tumblr, and they posted the screenshot from the Furt episode of Burt and Kurt looking in the mirror, and they were like "WHY WAS THIS NOT IN THE EPISODE?" and I was like "I THOUGHT THE SAME THING."

And then this scene popped into my head and I wrote it down in about 30 minutes. It's quite drabbly, but I want to hug both Hummel men now.

ALSO. I'm off work today, and I had planned to write a crapton for either Knife Going In or Someday You Will Be Loved...but unfortunately, THE SNOWPOCALYPSE arrived yesterday. I almost got stuck at work. I ended up driving to Kat's house (she's psychpiratess, she helps me write KGI and betas for me often) and I've been snowed in since yesterday. I HAVE NOT TOUCHED MY OWN LAPTOP SINCE YESTERDAY. THAT IS INSANE. I went a little literary-crazy and hijacked her desktop computer so I could write this.

So here we are.

(Anyone want to tell bethandbee that I wrote this? Because I can't get on my tumblr right now...I MISS MY LAPTOP, YOU GUYS, I MISS IT SO HARD. IF I WASN'T MARRIED, I WOULD TOTALLY SUGGEST CAITLIN/LAPTOP AS YOUR OTP.)