Legacy
Title: Legacy
Rating: G
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Summary: He wanted to be remembered - many years from now, when he was gone - by nothing more than the slender ties of connection that linked him with the people he loved.
Word Count: 1146
Author's Note: I love writing Burt Hummel more than is decent. So I wrote fluffy, saccharine future fic about Burt and his family. Because I am hopeless. I have no regrets!
He wanted to be remembered - many years from now, when he was gone - by nothing more than the slender ties of connection that linked him with the people he loved. He wanted to be Burt Hummel, son, husband, father, grandfather, friend. Beloved by many, but with very few regrets. He wanted to live on in the way people smiled when they told stories about him, and how his son never left for a trip of more than 50 miles without first checking the fluid levels in his car.
But now, right now, at this second in his life, he wanted to revel in having his family all around him. He wanted to soak in these moments: Carole putting the final touches on Christmas dinner in the kitchen, absently humming to herself; the whoops and hollers of his boys out front, having what sounded like an epic snowball fight; the crackle of logs in the fireplace and the quiet drone of Christmas carols on the radio.
He and Carole had been married for twelve years now, and they pretty much had this blended family thing down to a science. The boys had settled into a routine pretty quickly, thank god, and then they'd both been gone - Finn to Indiana and Kurt to New York, just like he'd always planned. They both came home for holidays, of course, but it was never quite the same as those first few years when they'd been all together, a family of four under one roof.
Their family of four had expanded to five in all but name when Blaine came into the picture. He'd quickly become a fixture, Kurt dragging him to family dinners with a look of blazing certainty that reminded Burt of Kurt's mother. Kurt had so clearly gotten the best of both of them - he was loyal and strong and loving and committed to everyone and everything he cared about. So when he and Carole had gotten that skype call six years ago from the two boys, their faces pressed together so they could both be seen, their smiles nearly blinding, he'd been ready.
"We're getting married!" Kurt had blurted out, Blaine turning to stare at him with a look that said all his dreams had just come true. Carole had cried, and asked a million questions, and he'd just smiled when Kurt had turned to him, knowing he was pleased but wanting to hear it from him.
"I'll get your mother's wedding band - and mine - out of the safe deposit." He'd said. "Maybe you'll want to use them in yours."
Kurt had cried then, quietly, tears sliding down his cheeks as he smiled. And he'd said "I love you too, Dad," because that was what Burt had been telling him, in his own way.
So four had become five officially, and Burt had cried just like his son, as he saw firsthand how much love Kurt had to give, and how much he was given in return. He'd stumbled through a speech at the reception just after Finn's, and Blaine had taken to calling him Pops, mostly because it made Kurt snort disdainfully, but also because Burt had been like a father to him since high school.
A couple of years went by. Five became a comfortable number for them all. Finn dated a little, but didn't settle. It seemed to work for him. Kurt and Blaine slid into married life like pros, working and living and loving like they'd been doing it all their lives. In a way, Burt supposed they had.
One day in May, three and a half years ago, they brought a tiny bundle home from the hospital, who grew into an inquisitive little girl with dark ringlets and a ready laugh. His granddaughter made six. Kurt was Daddy - sure to become Dad, with an eyeroll, when she was a teenager - and Blaine was Papa. Uncle Finn tossed her into the air, Nana did her hair in pigtails, and Grandpa happily let her wrap him around her tiny finger. Life was really, really good.
Three weeks ago, though, Burt had discovered that, while a family of six was wonderful, it turned out that a family of seven was spectacular.
He pads quietly over to the basinet next to the couch and lifts the sleeping baby into his arms. The little boy squirms slightly, his nose crinkling up just like Kurt's did when he was this size, and Burt leans down to brush a kiss onto his forehead. When he looks up again, his eyes catch the newest photo on the mantle, taken only a few days before. Kurt and Blaine are settled on their couch at home, Kurt cradling their daughter on his lap, while Blaine helps her wrap her tiny arms around her new baby brother. The baby is sleeping, and his parents and sister are all smiling down at him. It's a perfect portrait of a family, complete and beautiful. Burt couldn't ask for anything more than this for his son, for his sons. He knows that even Finn will find it eventually, with such good examples before him.
"Dad?" Kurt comes in carrying his daughter, who is draped sleepily against him, still waking up from her nap. "Everything ok in here?"
"Yep." He keeps his voice low and soothing for both his grandchildren. "Just bonding with the newest edition to the family."
"We have a pretty great family, huh?" Kurt smiles and cuddles his daughter closer, his cheek resting against her curls. He reaches out to run one finger down his son's cheek.
"We do. Turns out fatherhood really suits you." He shifts so he can rest a hand on his son's shoulder.
"I learned from the best, Dad." Kurt grins, quick and bright, before turning back toward the door to call Blaine and Finn in from the cold.
Burt watches him go - his boy, now a man, a husband, a father with two children of his own. Yes, he thinks, if he could leave any legacy in the world, this would be it. Sons who know how to love. Grandchildren who are adored. He's not planning on going anywhere for a long while, but when he does, he'll go with a smile, knowing he's done what he set out to do. No regrets. Just an amazing family, and a whole lot of love.
He hears the boys tromp into the kitchen, and the baby stirs in his arms.
"You ready for this, little man?" he whispers, moving toward the kitchen. "Your first Christmas dinner with the family. The first of many to come."
His grandson stares up at him and then yawns, tiny mouth opening wide and sweet. Burt laughs. "You've got that right, kid. They're exhausting. But they're ours." He presses one more kiss to the baby's forehead before stepping into the kitchen, where their family awaits them.
Rating: G
Pairing: Kurt/Blaine
Summary: He wanted to be remembered - many years from now, when he was gone - by nothing more than the slender ties of connection that linked him with the people he loved.
Word Count: 1146
Author's Note: I love writing Burt Hummel more than is decent. So I wrote fluffy, saccharine future fic about Burt and his family. Because I am hopeless. I have no regrets!
He wanted to be remembered - many years from now, when he was gone - by nothing more than the slender ties of connection that linked him with the people he loved. He wanted to be Burt Hummel, son, husband, father, grandfather, friend. Beloved by many, but with very few regrets. He wanted to live on in the way people smiled when they told stories about him, and how his son never left for a trip of more than 50 miles without first checking the fluid levels in his car.
But now, right now, at this second in his life, he wanted to revel in having his family all around him. He wanted to soak in these moments: Carole putting the final touches on Christmas dinner in the kitchen, absently humming to herself; the whoops and hollers of his boys out front, having what sounded like an epic snowball fight; the crackle of logs in the fireplace and the quiet drone of Christmas carols on the radio.
He and Carole had been married for twelve years now, and they pretty much had this blended family thing down to a science. The boys had settled into a routine pretty quickly, thank god, and then they'd both been gone - Finn to Indiana and Kurt to New York, just like he'd always planned. They both came home for holidays, of course, but it was never quite the same as those first few years when they'd been all together, a family of four under one roof.
Their family of four had expanded to five in all but name when Blaine came into the picture. He'd quickly become a fixture, Kurt dragging him to family dinners with a look of blazing certainty that reminded Burt of Kurt's mother. Kurt had so clearly gotten the best of both of them - he was loyal and strong and loving and committed to everyone and everything he cared about. So when he and Carole had gotten that skype call six years ago from the two boys, their faces pressed together so they could both be seen, their smiles nearly blinding, he'd been ready.
"We're getting married!" Kurt had blurted out, Blaine turning to stare at him with a look that said all his dreams had just come true. Carole had cried, and asked a million questions, and he'd just smiled when Kurt had turned to him, knowing he was pleased but wanting to hear it from him.
"I'll get your mother's wedding band - and mine - out of the safe deposit." He'd said. "Maybe you'll want to use them in yours."
Kurt had cried then, quietly, tears sliding down his cheeks as he smiled. And he'd said "I love you too, Dad," because that was what Burt had been telling him, in his own way.
So four had become five officially, and Burt had cried just like his son, as he saw firsthand how much love Kurt had to give, and how much he was given in return. He'd stumbled through a speech at the reception just after Finn's, and Blaine had taken to calling him Pops, mostly because it made Kurt snort disdainfully, but also because Burt had been like a father to him since high school.
A couple of years went by. Five became a comfortable number for them all. Finn dated a little, but didn't settle. It seemed to work for him. Kurt and Blaine slid into married life like pros, working and living and loving like they'd been doing it all their lives. In a way, Burt supposed they had.
One day in May, three and a half years ago, they brought a tiny bundle home from the hospital, who grew into an inquisitive little girl with dark ringlets and a ready laugh. His granddaughter made six. Kurt was Daddy - sure to become Dad, with an eyeroll, when she was a teenager - and Blaine was Papa. Uncle Finn tossed her into the air, Nana did her hair in pigtails, and Grandpa happily let her wrap him around her tiny finger. Life was really, really good.
Three weeks ago, though, Burt had discovered that, while a family of six was wonderful, it turned out that a family of seven was spectacular.
He pads quietly over to the basinet next to the couch and lifts the sleeping baby into his arms. The little boy squirms slightly, his nose crinkling up just like Kurt's did when he was this size, and Burt leans down to brush a kiss onto his forehead. When he looks up again, his eyes catch the newest photo on the mantle, taken only a few days before. Kurt and Blaine are settled on their couch at home, Kurt cradling their daughter on his lap, while Blaine helps her wrap her tiny arms around her new baby brother. The baby is sleeping, and his parents and sister are all smiling down at him. It's a perfect portrait of a family, complete and beautiful. Burt couldn't ask for anything more than this for his son, for his sons. He knows that even Finn will find it eventually, with such good examples before him.
"Dad?" Kurt comes in carrying his daughter, who is draped sleepily against him, still waking up from her nap. "Everything ok in here?"
"Yep." He keeps his voice low and soothing for both his grandchildren. "Just bonding with the newest edition to the family."
"We have a pretty great family, huh?" Kurt smiles and cuddles his daughter closer, his cheek resting against her curls. He reaches out to run one finger down his son's cheek.
"We do. Turns out fatherhood really suits you." He shifts so he can rest a hand on his son's shoulder.
"I learned from the best, Dad." Kurt grins, quick and bright, before turning back toward the door to call Blaine and Finn in from the cold.
Burt watches him go - his boy, now a man, a husband, a father with two children of his own. Yes, he thinks, if he could leave any legacy in the world, this would be it. Sons who know how to love. Grandchildren who are adored. He's not planning on going anywhere for a long while, but when he does, he'll go with a smile, knowing he's done what he set out to do. No regrets. Just an amazing family, and a whole lot of love.
He hears the boys tromp into the kitchen, and the baby stirs in his arms.
"You ready for this, little man?" he whispers, moving toward the kitchen. "Your first Christmas dinner with the family. The first of many to come."
His grandson stares up at him and then yawns, tiny mouth opening wide and sweet. Burt laughs. "You've got that right, kid. They're exhausting. But they're ours." He presses one more kiss to the baby's forehead before stepping into the kitchen, where their family awaits them.