FIC: Share Some Of Those Magic Spells 1/1
Title: Share Some Of Those Magic Spells
Rating: G
Characters/Pairings: Kurt, Finn
Spoilers: Season two
Warnings: None
Word Count: 889
Summary: Written for the Glee angst meme: Kurt makes himself and Finn French Toast for breakfast. He didn't know French Toast was Carole's code for bad news.
Kurt loved to cooked. Sometimes he had a bad habit of getting a little too creative in the kitchen and it resulted in food not even Finn would touch but most of the time people raced about his cooking. Between Blaine, his friends, and school, he didn’t get to cook as much as he used to but Saturday and Sunday mornings were still all his. Carole was great and she was just as faithful at sticking to the guidelines of his dad’s restrictions as he was, which he appreciated.
Normally he made things like egg white omelettes, scrambled eggs, or whole wheat pancakes with a berry sauce instead of syrup. His sauce was still sweet enough that not even Finn complained about the lack of pure sugar syrup. But with his dad having left early that morning for Columbus on a parts run and Carole on the early shift all week, it was only him and Finn home for breakfast.
He wanted French Toast. And he wouldn’t complain when Finn drowned his stack in maple syrup. How his stepbrother couple eat so much and not gain any weight, Kurt just couldn’t figure out. Kurt preferred cinnamon on his French Toast.
It didn’t take him long to turn half a loaf of bread into a stack of perfectly cooked French Toast, placing it on the table along with the cinnamon and the maple syrup. He’d heard footsteps upstairs earlier so he knew Finn was awake, probably just out of the shower, so he made his way to the bottom of the stairs.
“Finn,” he called, “breakfast is ready if you’re hungry.”
“Thanks Kurt,” Finn yelled back. “Be right down.”
Kurt put one slice of toast on his place and sprinkled cinnamon on it while feet pounded down the stairs. He looked up, expecting to see Finn sliding across the kitchen floor as he did each morning, but Finn was frozen in the doorway.
“Finn?”
“Where’s mom and Burt?” his stepbrother asked and Kurt could hear the fear in Finn’s voice.
“They’re at work,” Kurt frowned. What was going on? “Remember, your mom’s working the morning shift and dad had to go to Columbus?”
“But they’re alive?” Finn’s eyes were fixed on the plate of French Toast and all that did was cause Kurt even more confusion.
Kurt nodded and he slid off his chair to walk closer to Finn. “They’ll both be home in time for dinner. Did something happen? Do you need to call them?”
“No,” Finn said. “Not if they’re busy. Are you moving back to Dalton?”
“What?” Now Kurt was really confused. “No, I’m staying right here at home and McKinley. Are you trying to get rid of me? I don’t hog the bathroom that much.”
“Yes you do,” Finn teased but it sounded automatic. It was a common argument between them and that was Finn’s standard reply. “Is someone else moving away again?”
“No, nothing’s going on,” Kurt stressed and he reached out to place a hand on Finn’s arm. “Why do you think something’s wrong?”
During the entire conversation Finn hadn’t looked away from the French Toast once. It was pretty obvious to Kurt that Finn’s problem had something to do with his choice of breakfast and when he thought back, he couldn’t remember ever seeing Finn eat French Toast and Carole had never made it. Maybe Finn didn’t like French Toast.
“French Toast is bad,” Finn said, confirming Kurt’s thoughts. His stepbrother just didn’t like French Toast. No big deal.
“Do you want me to make you some scrambled eggs instead?” he asked.
“Scrambled eggs are good,” Finn said in the same tone. He still hadn’t looked away from the damn French Toast. “But you didn’t tell me the bad news yet.”
“I don’t have any bad news,” Kurt told him. He was ready to just toss the entire plate of French Toast in the garbage if that meant Finn would start making sense. “Why would I have bad news?”
Finn finally looked away from the table to stare at him with a confused expression. “You made French Toast,” he replied, as if that explained everything. Kurt was definitely getting Carole to write him a translator book for Finnese to English.
“Finn, I need you to explain it a little better,” Kurt sighed as he walked over to the fridge to get the eggs. It wouldn’t take him long to whip up some scrambled eggs for his extremely confusing stepbrother. Maybe once Finn ate he’d start making more sense.
“French Toast means bad news,” Finn stated. To Kurt, it sounded like Finn was actually stating a fact. “Mom always makes French Toast when she has bad news. But you made it this time and I thought something happened to her or Burt.”
“Oh Finn,” Kurt softened and he turned away from the stove to see Finn watching him. “No, I don’t have any bad news. I just felt like having French Toast today. I didn’t know that your mom only made them when she had bad news to deliver. Everything’s fine, I promise.”
“Okay,” Finn nodded but he still didn’t look convinced to Kurt.
Kurt grabbed the plate of French Toast off the table and shoved the whole thing in the fridge. “There. Now how about some scrambled eggs for breakfast?”
“I like eggs.”