FIC: Unhappy Inheritance
Title: Unhappy Inheritance (alternatively titled: Kitchen Dad is Watching You Squee)
Pair: pre-Klaine
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1202
Summary: Kurt and Blaine watch a movie together, and Burt watches his boys. Burt POV. Somewhere post Sexy.
AN: They’re watching The Dress Code, which is about a little boy who wants to wear dresses and become an etymologist.
“What a bitch!”
Burt turned to peek through the doorway at Kurt and Blaine on the couch. The two of them were sitting there in their civies, watching some movie that Blaine had brought over. One he said Kurt would loooove. And, well, Kurt was vocal enough during movies that it should be pretty obvious what he was thinking.
Only with this movie, Kurt would alternatively squeal and swear. At one point, he exclaimed, “Omigod!” and pulled his legs up onto the sofa and covered his eyes.
All Burt could hear from the screen was some kids yelling “faggot,” and he shot up to go check on them. But Blaine reached over and pulled Kurt’s hands from his eyes.
“It’s okay! See! The mini!Mercedes took care of him.”
When Kurt laughed, Burt went back to what he’d been doing. Maybe he peeked a few more times.
After Kurt had gotten scared, Blaine’s arm had gone around him supportively, and there it stayed. Burt didn’t quite know what to make of this. Kurt assured him now, constantly, that he and Blaine were just friends, and that he’d misread the signs, but they were past that now, and everything was great.
But the way Blaine held Kurt to him didn’t look like friendship. The way Kurt shined on Blaine didn’t seem like he was past much of anything, except maybe as something he told himself. They didn’t practice singing together like friends. Just friends didn’t usually include multiple boundary breaking. Mostly on Blaine’s side, but Burt doubted Kurt was capable of keeping his mouth shut if Blaine’s parents said anything negative about him while Kurt was present. Still, it didn’t feel like it was his place to step in with the boys. Not now. They were so young, yet.
“How can he...? Asshole!”
“I didn’t think you’d like this part.” Blaine’s voice was smooth, calm. A little sad, though.
“How can anyone walk out on their son like that? I don’t care if the kid is wearing a dress and a tiara. His mom just had a heart attack,” Kurt complained. “That’s completely unacceptable behavior for a parent!”
Burt smirked just a little.
“I like to think...” Blaine sounded a little tense, but thoughtful. “Maybe when adults screw up with us, it’s because someone screwed up with them. I don’t really like the father in this movie, but it makes me hopeful in the end. You know. The kid is eight, and dad has time to get his act together.”
“I know people say it was a different time when they were growing up... I don’t know. It isn’t easy now.”
“That’s not exactly what I mean. I mean-”
“Grandma gave him a lovely gift of homophobia when he was a little boy, and he’s having a hard time getting rid of it.”
Kurt’s hand rested on Blaine’s knee and squeezed. Blaine sighed and laid his head on Kurt’s shoulder.
“You see cycles of these things, yeah... I’d want to support my son no matter what.”
“Even if he were straight,” Kurt joked.
Blaine laughed softly. “It’s not a choice, Kurt. Check out Grandma MacLaine taking down those bullies.”
“That reminds me of my grandma, a little. On my mom’s side...”
Burt covered his mouth and headed to the garage to give these two clueless boys some space. They weren’t wrong, about inheriting your parents’ prejudices. He’d been terrible to the scrawny, nerdy little boys, just as all his friends had been. Nothing on the level of what Kurt and Blaine had been through, but Burt had been a jock, and he had been praised more often than not for spitting back the things his father had said about sissies.
It was possible that one of them had actually been gay. The name of the game had been Smear the Queer.
He just prayed that Kurt never met someone he’d bullied. He’d told Kurt about it, something he’d dreaded doing since Elizabeth had suggested the possibility that their kid might turn out gay, but Kurt seemed unable to see his father in that light, and Burt didn’t blame him. For years, they’d only had one another. Acknowledging that his father had taken the role of his harassers, even years ago, might be too much.
As Blaine spent more time over at their house, Burt suspected that the specter of previous Anderson generations of hatred were just too obvious in his father, even if the man sounded a little passive aggressive about it. Parents sometimes didn’t get that; Burt sure hadn’t clued into it for longer than he was happy to admit: a single harsh word from a parent plummeted down on a kid, like a penny from the Empire State Building. It was easier to crush your kid than you might expect. And frankly, kids weren’t dumb. They picked up on your side glances and silences, too.
Kurt was willing to forgive and forget quickly, even when they hurt one another inadvertently, but they’d built trust together. They’d proven it time and again, even though the throws of Kurt’s teenage years, when Kurt became more reluctant to chatter out everything on his mind and everything became a million times more complicated. Burt would never forget how Kurt had come to him, a few nights after their extremely awkward ‘sex talk,’ and whispered the worst details of his harassment to his father, before asking Burt candidly if he thought he’d ever be able to be intimate with someone.
Burt had ultimately, after the longest pause from a tight throat ever, said, yes. But right now, Kurt would have to be very patient with himself while he healed, just as he would with a strained voice or a torn ligament.
Blaine flat out did not have trust. Not that relationship. Not that foundation in place to fall back on when things got frightening or confusing. Not from an adult, anyway. It was obvious. The boy was flying blind, and had very little understanding of how people behaved outside of the movies. He was a teenager, sixteen going on sixty, just like Kurt. Too young and too smart. He did what seemed to be right at the time, sometimes acting self-interestedly, but just as often making wild gestures to ensure those he cared about were safe, cared for, had enough.
More and more it seemed like while Kurt looked up to Blaine, Blaine fell back on Kurt, finding the grounding he needed in a kid just as damaged as himself.
Whether or not this was a good idea, Burt didn’t know. He couldn’t guess. But he would be keeping an eye on them both, whatever happened with this thing blossoming between them. It seemed that Burt Hummel had adopted two sons this year.
Pair: pre-Klaine
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1202
Summary: Kurt and Blaine watch a movie together, and Burt watches his boys. Burt POV. Somewhere post Sexy.
AN: They’re watching The Dress Code, which is about a little boy who wants to wear dresses and become an etymologist.
“What a bitch!”
Burt turned to peek through the doorway at Kurt and Blaine on the couch. The two of them were sitting there in their civies, watching some movie that Blaine had brought over. One he said Kurt would loooove. And, well, Kurt was vocal enough during movies that it should be pretty obvious what he was thinking.
Only with this movie, Kurt would alternatively squeal and swear. At one point, he exclaimed, “Omigod!” and pulled his legs up onto the sofa and covered his eyes.
All Burt could hear from the screen was some kids yelling “faggot,” and he shot up to go check on them. But Blaine reached over and pulled Kurt’s hands from his eyes.
“It’s okay! See! The mini!Mercedes took care of him.”
When Kurt laughed, Burt went back to what he’d been doing. Maybe he peeked a few more times.
After Kurt had gotten scared, Blaine’s arm had gone around him supportively, and there it stayed. Burt didn’t quite know what to make of this. Kurt assured him now, constantly, that he and Blaine were just friends, and that he’d misread the signs, but they were past that now, and everything was great.
But the way Blaine held Kurt to him didn’t look like friendship. The way Kurt shined on Blaine didn’t seem like he was past much of anything, except maybe as something he told himself. They didn’t practice singing together like friends. Just friends didn’t usually include multiple boundary breaking. Mostly on Blaine’s side, but Burt doubted Kurt was capable of keeping his mouth shut if Blaine’s parents said anything negative about him while Kurt was present. Still, it didn’t feel like it was his place to step in with the boys. Not now. They were so young, yet.
“How can he...? Asshole!”
“I didn’t think you’d like this part.” Blaine’s voice was smooth, calm. A little sad, though.
“How can anyone walk out on their son like that? I don’t care if the kid is wearing a dress and a tiara. His mom just had a heart attack,” Kurt complained. “That’s completely unacceptable behavior for a parent!”
Burt smirked just a little.
“I like to think...” Blaine sounded a little tense, but thoughtful. “Maybe when adults screw up with us, it’s because someone screwed up with them. I don’t really like the father in this movie, but it makes me hopeful in the end. You know. The kid is eight, and dad has time to get his act together.”
“I know people say it was a different time when they were growing up... I don’t know. It isn’t easy now.”
“That’s not exactly what I mean. I mean-”
“Grandma gave him a lovely gift of homophobia when he was a little boy, and he’s having a hard time getting rid of it.”
Kurt’s hand rested on Blaine’s knee and squeezed. Blaine sighed and laid his head on Kurt’s shoulder.
“You see cycles of these things, yeah... I’d want to support my son no matter what.”
“Even if he were straight,” Kurt joked.
Blaine laughed softly. “It’s not a choice, Kurt. Check out Grandma MacLaine taking down those bullies.”
“That reminds me of my grandma, a little. On my mom’s side...”
Burt covered his mouth and headed to the garage to give these two clueless boys some space. They weren’t wrong, about inheriting your parents’ prejudices. He’d been terrible to the scrawny, nerdy little boys, just as all his friends had been. Nothing on the level of what Kurt and Blaine had been through, but Burt had been a jock, and he had been praised more often than not for spitting back the things his father had said about sissies.
It was possible that one of them had actually been gay. The name of the game had been Smear the Queer.
He just prayed that Kurt never met someone he’d bullied. He’d told Kurt about it, something he’d dreaded doing since Elizabeth had suggested the possibility that their kid might turn out gay, but Kurt seemed unable to see his father in that light, and Burt didn’t blame him. For years, they’d only had one another. Acknowledging that his father had taken the role of his harassers, even years ago, might be too much.
As Blaine spent more time over at their house, Burt suspected that the specter of previous Anderson generations of hatred were just too obvious in his father, even if the man sounded a little passive aggressive about it. Parents sometimes didn’t get that; Burt sure hadn’t clued into it for longer than he was happy to admit: a single harsh word from a parent plummeted down on a kid, like a penny from the Empire State Building. It was easier to crush your kid than you might expect. And frankly, kids weren’t dumb. They picked up on your side glances and silences, too.
Kurt was willing to forgive and forget quickly, even when they hurt one another inadvertently, but they’d built trust together. They’d proven it time and again, even though the throws of Kurt’s teenage years, when Kurt became more reluctant to chatter out everything on his mind and everything became a million times more complicated. Burt would never forget how Kurt had come to him, a few nights after their extremely awkward ‘sex talk,’ and whispered the worst details of his harassment to his father, before asking Burt candidly if he thought he’d ever be able to be intimate with someone.
Burt had ultimately, after the longest pause from a tight throat ever, said, yes. But right now, Kurt would have to be very patient with himself while he healed, just as he would with a strained voice or a torn ligament.
Blaine flat out did not have trust. Not that relationship. Not that foundation in place to fall back on when things got frightening or confusing. Not from an adult, anyway. It was obvious. The boy was flying blind, and had very little understanding of how people behaved outside of the movies. He was a teenager, sixteen going on sixty, just like Kurt. Too young and too smart. He did what seemed to be right at the time, sometimes acting self-interestedly, but just as often making wild gestures to ensure those he cared about were safe, cared for, had enough.
More and more it seemed like while Kurt looked up to Blaine, Blaine fell back on Kurt, finding the grounding he needed in a kid just as damaged as himself.
Whether or not this was a good idea, Burt didn’t know. He couldn’t guess. But he would be keeping an eye on them both, whatever happened with this thing blossoming between them. It seemed that Burt Hummel had adopted two sons this year.