Fic. Nice Boy
Title: Nice Boy
Author: alicebluegown16
Character/Pairings: Will/Finn, Carole, Burt
Rating: PG
Summary: For the prompt meme: Will is invited for dinner for the first time to meet the folks. Awkwardness ensues.
AN: So, I guess I've got a series going? In chronological order: Do Over, Breakfast of Champions, Like Grown Ups. Hope you like. It's my first time writing from Carole's POV and this one's kind of angsty.
The first time they have Will over for dinner, he brings her flowers.
Carole barely makes it into the kitchen, mumbling something about needing to put them in water, before she’s overcome by a hysterical giggle fit.
Because all she can remember is the conversation she had with Burt on the drive back from dropping Finn off at college (six months after his for serious, I really, really mean it, no backsies this time break up with Rachel Berry, and three months after Finn’s stumbling confession of not quite heterosexuality.)
“I hope he meets some nice girl…boy…person in one of his classes.”
Well, he’d certainly done that.
Will is nice and Will is sweet and Finn definitely met him in one of his classes.
Perhaps, she thinks as she leans against the counter for support, perhaps she should have been more specific.
***
Will calls her ‘ma’am’ and Burt ‘sir’ and he says ‘please’ and ‘thank you.’
He makes a point of asking about how Kurt’s doing and then lets Burt ramble on for a full twenty minutes.
During dinner, he holds her son’s hand under the table and afterwards he insists on helping her clean the kitchen.
Carole spends most of the meal reminding herself that Will Schuester is not the enemy.
She’s scrubbing the roast pan, elbow deep in lemon scented soap suds, when she calmly tells him “You know, in some way, shape, or form you’ve been the most important person in Finn’s life for the past three years.”
And oh, that hurts; she’s not going to pretend it doesn’t. Her beautiful baby boy, who was all she had for so long but now he’s not a baby anymore and he’s not all hers, hasn’t been for a long time.
“Mrs. Hummel-“
“Carole”, she automatically corrects.
“Carole. I swear to you, when Finn was my student, I never-“
She cuts him off. The assurance is vaguely appreciated and she hopes to holy hell it’s true, but the when and how of it all doesn’t so much matter right now, does it?
“Not my point, Will. The point is that he is my son and he loves you. So you better be serious, you better treat him right, and you better not fuck this up. You break his heart; I have Burt cut your brakes. Are we clear?”
“Crystal.” He croaks out, having the good sense to look absolutely fucking terrified.
“Wonderful. I’m glad we had this talk. Be a doll and grab me that scouring pad, would you?”
With the death threats out of the way, they manage to work together somewhat comfortably for several more minutes. She can’t help smiling when she notices Will hums to himself as he loads the dishwasher.
“Finn does the exact same thing…and you both also load it wrong. Fork tines up, Will…and the plates---you know what, shove over. I’ll do it myself.”
He starts to protest, but she won’t hear of it.
“Seriously, it’s for my own sake, I swear. I have a system. If you don’t let me do it my way, I’ll just be down here at three a.m. rearranging everything. You’ve brown-nosed enough for the night. Now, sit down like a good boy, and I’ll give you some of the dirt on Finn.”
***
In the living room, they find their men folk both engrossed in a football game, Finn sprawled across every single square inch of the couch.
Will pokes a thigh with his foot.
“My, don’t we look comfortable.”
“Doesn’t he though? Gee, thanks for rushing in to help us, dear son ‘o mine.” She shoots a mock glare and Finn at least has the decency to look somewhat chagrined.
“Okay, see it’s a funny story about that. I was totally going to, but this couch? This couch is like the freaking mafia, once you’re in it, you’re in it for life.”
Without warning he grabs Will’s hand and yanks the other man down. Will goes sprawling across him with a muffled ‘oof.’
“Besides, it gave you another opportunity to suck up to my mom some more.”
“Brat.” Will pauses in his shifting and scrambling to find one tiny corner of the couch he can claim as his own to swat Finn upside the head.
Carole heartily approves.
“Apple polisher.” Finn shoots back as he flashes a ‘Don’t hate me because I’m adorable’ smile at Will and rests his feet in his lap.
Who tenses for a split second but doesn’t move them.
“Huckleberry.” There is a very distinct air of triumph as he drops that little bombshell and okay, maybe she doesn’t hate the man.
“Oh my God, Mom. You didn’t.” Her son is absolutely mortified and it’s all Carole can do not to cackle with glee.
“Finn, did you really think if you left us alone together, I’d waste the opportunity to tell embarrassing stories about you?” She clucks her tongue. “I’m disappointed in you. You’re just lucky I didn’t break out the baby pictures.”
Will looks more than a little intrigued. At her promise of maybe next time, Finn grabs a throw pillow and attempts to smother himself with it.
For the next hour it’s just the sound of the game and Will and Finn debating whether Beyonce would be enough to save the Detroit Lions from complete and utter embarrassment until Burt politely asks them both to please shut their yaps.
Inevitably, the mafia couch, the three serving of pot roast at dinner, the murmur of the television, and Will absently tracing a thumb over the bones of his ankle prove too much for Finn and he conks out, head thrown back at an angle that’s probably killing his neck.
“He’s always been like that, ever since he was little,” Carole notes with an indulgent tone. “Out like a light no matter where he is or what’s going on around him.”
“Yeah, I know.”
A few beats of silence and then Will’s babbling something about this one time on a Glee trip and Finn falling asleep on the bus while Carole just stares at him, her eyebrows quirked up in an ‘Oh, really now?’ expression.
Out of the corner of her gaze, she notes Burt staring up at the ceiling, as if it’s the most fascinating thing on the planet, shoulders shaking with repressed laughter. And she can not look at him, she must not look because if she does, she’ll start giggling uncontrollably and what would be the fun in that?
But yes, eventually she takes pity on the poor man she’s letting twist in the wind and mercifully cuts him off.
“Will, stop. I know you two…I know.”
Another far more significant eyebrow raise and Will chokes out a wheezy terrified “You know?”
Carole bites her lip to keep from rolling her eyes and blurting out ‘Well, duh’ but instead settles for the far more tactful response of “Let’s just say I didn’t think Finn rushed back to Lima almost every weekend so you could help him with his homework.”
Accidentally confessing to your much younger boyfriend’s parents that the two of you are totally having sex is apparently in Will’s mind the point when it’s time to call it a night and make a graceful exit because he (very politely) turns down the offer of dessert and coffee in favor of heading home.
Carole watches Will wake Finn up to tell him goodbye and if there was any doubt whatsoever about the nature of their relationship, Finn’s sleepy mumble of “S’time for us to go to bed?” pretty much settles it.
Oh, Will is so very lucky he didn’t try to keep floating that bullshit ‘he just fell asleep on me once, I swear’ story or else she’d be forced to gut him with a teaspoon.
“So, umm, I’ll just-“ Finn’s looking at her with huge puppy dog eyes, but Carole nips that train of thought right in the bud by smiling sugar sweet and suggesting “Finn, honey, why don’t you be a dear and walk Will to his car?”
There’s a half second flash of defiance that darts across her son’s face and dies a quick death at Carole’s glare of ‘Do Not Push Me, Buck-o’. Just because she knows, doesn’t mean she has to be thrilled about it.
“I-yes. Exactly. I’ll just…walk Will to his car."
She pretends to read her magazine while she waits for Finn to come back inside.
And waits.
And waits.
And waits.
“If he left after I told him not to, I swear to God…” She mutters to herself as she goes to the window and peeks out.
They’re both still out there talking to each other, Finn probably assuring Will that more than likely she wouldn't really put out a hit on him anytime soon. And then Finn has Will pressed against the door of his car, holding him tight and kissing the side of his mouth, his forehead, his jaw, the shell of his ear.
She lets the curtain drop.
“What are they doing?”
“Sucking face, what’d you expect?” The words come out sort of strangled around the fist sized lump in her throat.
Finn’s an adult, she reminds herself. She can’t hold his hand when he crosses the street anymore.
“Aw, Carole. Stop babying the kid and let him kiss his boyfriend in peace."
Despite herself, she can’t help letting out a snort of laughter.
“You know, when you say things like that, I remember why I fell in love with you.”
She’s only half joking.
She moves to sit on the arm of Burt’s recliner and rests her head on his shoulder.
“Did you see the way Finn looked at me, like I was the most cold hearted horrible mother in the world for not letting him sleep over? How long does that last? That giddy new love feeling when being apart for one night feels like forever?”
Burt takes her hand and laces their fingers together.
“I wouldn’t know. It hasn’t ended for me yet.”
Carole melts. Burt doesn’t say much, but when he does, it almost always manages to be exactly the right thing.
"Hmmm, now I definitely remember why I fell in love with you.”
She leans down and kisses him on the side of his neck where it’s slightly pink. He always blushes a little when he attempts any of that “sappy googly eye crap” and yes, she still thinks it’s one of her favorite things about him.
“So, do we hate him?” Burt’s voice is light but his eyes and the way his grip tightens on her hand momentarily means ‘Are you gonna be okay?’
“Would it matter if we did? Finn’s so completely head over heels bonkers in love I think it can be seen from space.” Goddammit, she’s tearing up again. She’s just been an overemotional idiot all evening, hasn’t she?
She wipes her eyes and tries again.
“No, I don’t hate him. He seems like a nice boy.”
Burt grunts, not looking much convinced. Carole suspects that there is still some lingering animosity on Kurt’s behalf.
“I’ll give him that he’s not nearly as annoying as Rachel Berry, but I’m not much impressed that it took him five months to pull his head out of his ass and work up the nerve to come over here.”
This is true and as sweet as Will might be, she’s not an idiot. Will’s got some issues that even impeccable manners and a bright smile don’t completely hide. He’s tied her son up in knots at times and while it may have been unintentional, Carole’s not exactly quick to forgive.
“But he came.” She points out. “And when he did, he brought me flowers.”