Chapter Text
Kurt wakes up his favorite way, which doesn’t happen most days—a warm, heavy Finn-blanket draped over most of him, Puck pressed against his side, and a finger running down his nose. Kurt wrinkles his nose and starts to smile, still keeping his eyes closed. “Good morning.”
“Happy birthday, blue eyes.”
“You’re trapped here forever,” Finn announces, nuzzling his face in Kurt’s hair. “We have terrible birthday plans for you.”
“Terrible?” Kurt says, slowly opening his eyes and grinning more broadly. “That sounds promising, actually.”
“First I’m gonna make breakfast, though,” Finn says. “Puck can be terrible to you while I go and do that, ok?”
“My life is very difficult,” Kurt deadpans.
“And you’re a whole year older than both of us, for a week,” Puck says, grinning. “Or, well, you sound older.”
“You’re, like, our sugardaddy,” Finn says. “Ok, breakfast. I’ll shout if I damage anything!” He kisses Kurt along his jaw and neck before sliding off of him and standing up, pulling on his pajama pants.
“That’s me. A benevolent patron,” Kurt agrees, sighing slightly. As Finn heads down the stairs, Kurt turns to Puck. “We should probably be worried about potential damage.”
“K, Burt checks the smoke detectors every month now that Carole’s pregnant. We’ll know about potential damage before Finn at the rate Burt’s going. I’m surprised the whole house isn’t wired to predict incidents before they happen or something.”
Kurt giggles. “I think it’s more like weekly. And let’s not forget the air conditioning filters.”
Only a few more minutes pass before Kurt hears some swearing along with the banging that’s been going on more or less since Finn left the bedroom. Another few minutes after that, Finn appears in the doorway, looking flustered, his hair even wilder than when he went downstairs. He seems to be splattered in some kind of batter.
“Uh, Puck?” Finn asks, a little too calmly. “Could you join me in the kitchen, please?”
“Sure,” Puck says, sliding out of bed. “Let me just grab my cravat.”
“I’ll just be up here, all alone,” Kurt sighs as both of them go back down the stairs. He decides to throw their clothes in the laundry and then climbs back into his bed, mostly because it’s a Tuesday, it’s his birthday, and he can.
It’s probably ten more minutes before he hears Finn and Puck padding back up the stairs, and he sits up, leaning against the headboard.
“Put on your crown!” Finn shouts from the hallway.
“Which one?” Kurt asks. “Junior queen or senior king?”
“Whichever one makes you feel the most like bossofus.”
“Oh, I don’t need a crown for that,” Kurt murmurs to himself, but he gets up and picks up the king crown, mainly because it stays in place better, then gets back in bed. “Okay,” he calls.
Finn reappears in the doorway, carrying a tray dominated by a huge pile of bacon. “I have birthday breakfast!”
“That is quite a large amount of birthday bacon,” Kurt says as Finn steps toward the bed, Puck trailing behind him with more coffee.
“There’s waffles, too, but Puck fixed those.” Finn sets the tray down in front of Kurt and points to the mug in the corner, almost hidden by the bacon pile. “Your coffee’s there.”
Kurt would ask what, exactly, about the waffles needed fixed, but since they look relatively normal, he decides to skip that question, just picking up his mug of coffee and taking a sip. “Thank you, my loves.”
“But no syrup,” Puck teases, sitting down on one side of Kurt. “Powdered sugar and fruit only, because we were pretty sure you didn’t want to wash your sheets as a birthday activity.”
“Or if you did, not because of syrup, anyway,” Finn adds.
“You are both correct.” Kurt picks up a piece of bacon and starts to eat it. “Any other terrible, horrible plans for me?”
“Yep. First you eat your breakfast, and then we’re gonna eat you,” Finn says. “It’ll be terrible. Probably there’s gonna be some begging for mercy.”
“We thought we’d alternate activities for the day,” Puck explains. “Eating. Fucking. More eating. Maybe a nice shower.”
“There might be some nice-smelling bath stuff,” Finn says. “Somebody might have asked Tina what the best smell to order was and somebody might have ordered some bath melty thingies.”
Kurt giggles. “We should go use the tub in the master bathroom. No one ever uses it, but it’s so much bigger.”
“Someday I’m gonna own a place with a giant-ass bathtub. It’ll be big enough that I could lie down in it,” Finn says, somewhat whimsically. “Maybe even big enough for me plus another person or two.”
“Custom-ordered bathtub,” Kurt says.
“There’s a goal to strive for, anyway,” Puck agrees. “But for today, yes. We should use their tub.”
“You should probably leave the crown on all day,” Finn suggests. “Or switch them out and wear a few of them.”
“But only one at once,” Puck quips. “More than one and it’s just too much.”
“Oh, definitely.” Kurt nods solemnly. “Only one crown at a time. And possibly not while in the tub or shower, if that’s okay with both of you.”
“Yeah, that’s cool,” Finn says. “You can put it right back on after.”
“Now you know what to get me next year. A waterproof crown.”
“Mermaid crown. With shells and pearls,” Finn says, in a tone that suggests he’s thinking it aloud without realizing it.
“That probably would look better than neoprene, yes.”
“Scuba-diving suit and crown,” Puck jokes. “Nothing says happy birthday like an oxygen tank.”
“Nothing says happy birthday like a plate full of bacon and waffles followed by a blowjob,” Finn says. “So eat your breakfast.”