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When Burt came home from a hard day of work all he wanted was to have dinner with his son, watch his shows in peace, and go to sleep in his bed. Most days, the universe cooperated with his wants making him a man content with his life for the most part, but today was not one of those days.
As soon as he opened the door all he could hear was a wall of sound. The heavy bass line from whatever the music was sent his head throbbing, exacerbating his already terrible headache. Flinching away from the noise for a second, it took Burt far too long to realize that the music had to be coming from Kurt's bedroom. His soundproof basement bedroom, Burt couldn't help but think. This was just too much.
Burt headed towards the stairs, only to see that the door had been left open. He shook his head as he walked down the stairs to his son's room. He had a feeling that shutting the door wouldn't be enough this time and he had to talk to Kurt anyways about keeping the music to a manageable level before he went deaf in his twenties. He loved his son, but lately Kurt had been acting more and more teenager-ish than ever before, sighing impatiently whenever Burt asked where he was going or getting defensive whenever Burt questioned his actions. Burt was happy that his son was becoming his own man, but he couldn't help but wish that growing up didn't involve being so damned obnoxious.
Burt reached the bottom of the steps and was just about to turn the sound off from Kurt's speakers when he looked up and saw it. There was his son and a boy on his bed. Having sex.
It was undeniably sex, too. The covers from Kurt's bed were tossed on the floor and his son was on his back, legs wrapped around this boy he'd never seen before as they moved together. "What is going on?" Burt couldn't help yelling out, his hands squeezing into fists instinctively at the thought of his boy, his baby, being taken advantage of by some stupid teenager.
Burt had forgotten that the music was still blaring in his surprise so the boys didn't even hear him and just kept going. Burt thought his eyes were going to start bleeding when he saw his son throw his head back, his mouth opening to say something -- what, he didn't know, but the boy on top of him (oh god, on top of him) seemed to understand as he shifted to pull one of Kurt's legs over his shoulder before thrusting even harder than before, his ass clenching and making Burt pray he went blind.
It was this that pushed Burt out of his shock, though, and he rushed to turn Kurt's iPod off, the lack of sound stunning. Both boys looked up and over at him in confusion until Kurt said, "Dad!" in that childish, shocked way of his.
Burt didn't know what to do. "Get dressed." was the only thing he could think to say in his desire to gain some sort of control of the situation.
Kurt's eyes had gone wide and he began to push at the other boy's shoulders. For his part, the other boy seemed to be just as rushed, moving away from Kurt with a grace and speed that Burt could barely remember once having himself. Burt almost felt sorry for them until he saw the boy's dick slither out of his son's body making his brain white out for a second. 'At least he's wearing a condom' Burt couldn't help thinking hysterically all the while wanting to strangle the boy for being in his house, on top of his son, taking him away from Burt just as much as Kurt growing up was.
The boy was pulling up his jeans while Kurt closed his legs and grabbed a sheet from the floor to cover himself with. Burt had pressed himself against the wall, using it keep himself upright as he trembled. He wished his wife was here to help him figure out what to do or say. Or Carol, his mind whispered to him; he couldn't help but be torn between the two anymore and it tore him up sometimes at night. Still, he had to do something and just like he'd been doing for the past ten years, Burt decided to just go with his gut and pray he did alright.
Burt pointed at the boy, "Go upstairs and sit in the living room. Do not leave my house before I say so or I will hunt you down and we will have this talk in front of your parents. Do you understand me?" He hadn't meant to sound like he was going to dismember the boy, but he didn't mind that he did either. The boy started and nodded frantically, moving to place Kurt's clothes from the floor onto the bed before running up the stairs.
It was just Kurt and him in the basement after that. Burt stepped forward but stopped himself before he'd gotten too far from the wall. Kurt was curled in on himself on the bed, arms around his chest. His face was so pale, far paler than he'd ever seen him before. The protective urge in Burt was straining to find something to fight, to keep his son safe, but this wasn't something he could protect Kurt from. "What is going on, Kurt?"
"I would think that was obvious," Kurt said, his mouth running well in front of his brain.
"Don't you dare talk to me like that, Kurt!" Burt snapped, pointing at his son as he flinched. Kurt's eyes somehow got wider and Burt wasn't even angry anymore. He felt defeated.
"I'm sorry." Kurt said seemingly unable to stop looking at Burt now, his eyes searching his face for something.
Burt slumped, his hand moving to rub over his face as he tried to gather himself. "Kurt," he said, "What were you thinking bringing some stranger into my home? For that?"
"It's my home too!" Burt was startled at his son's outburst. "And he's not a stranger, he's my boyfriend."
Burt found himself walking forward before he could even think about it, "I didn't realize you had started paying the mortgage!"
Kurt looked like he wanted to melt into the bed, but he stayed upright, moving to put his feet on the floor and stand. He looked ridiculous wrapped up in a sheet, but he was full of fire. It shocked Burt to see his son so mad. "Don't, Dad. Don't make this about money." Kurt said. He was trying to keep the sheet around his body as he twisted to reach his clothes.
Burt deflated again and sighed. Kurt's financial independence due to the trust his grandmother managed for him was a subject neither of them liked to talk about. "Boyfriend though, Kurt?" Burt said, "How can he be your boyfriend? You never told me about him. I don't even know his name."
Kurt was pulling on his pants when he responded, "I didn't know how to tell you, Dad. We don't talk about things like this. Besides, everything was so new, dating and... you know; I kind of wanted to keep it to myself for awhile."
Burt grabbed his sons shoulders. He wanted to shake him, hug him, just do something to grab his full attention. "You don't keep things like this from me. I need to know what's going on with you. I need to know what I'm going to walk into when I get off from work. I can't see that again, Kurt. I'm getting old; my constitution is delicate."
Kurt was looking down, but he was nodding. "I get it and I should have told you I was dating, but you can't control my life, Dad. I'm seventeen. You can't keep me locked up down here. That's a little too serial killer."
"I'm pretty sure that's more psychopath than serial killer, but I get what you're saying, son." Burt wanted to hug his boy, but he had a feeling that it would lead to awkwardness after having seen what he had just seen. "That doesn't mean that I don't worry about you and ok, probably a little too much sometimes. But if I can acknowledge my inner psycho-dad, I need you to recognize that your keeping secrets from me only fuels my need to buy padlocks."
It was good to see Kurt finally smile. He moved to grab his shirt from the bed and started buttoning it. "So we're ok?" Kurt asked.
"We're getting there." Burt said. "There's still the little problem of your so-called boyfriend upstairs."
"Oh god," Kurt said, rubbing his hand over his face. "This is so wrong."
Burt couldn't help smiling at the sight of his son mimicking his earlier actions, even if it was subconscious. "Yeah well. The only good thing to come out of this scenario is that I get to go put the fear of Hummel into that young man so don't ruin this for me."
"You have a speech ready, don't you? You and your speeches. Do you practice them in a mirror at night?" Kurt wasn't as pale as before, his shoulders squaring off, his chin up and proud. He looked more like himself.
"No," Burt lied. "I'm really good at improv. Besides, I kind of have to. I don't want you getting hurt."
"He'd never hurt me, Dad. Would you have been giving speeches to my girlfriends about 'not messing with your little boy' if I was straight?" Kurt asked, his arms slowly moving back up into their usual defensive posture.
Burt tilted his head in wry acknowledgment, "Probably not. I'd have most likely given speeches on not getting pregnant. It's just. I worry. He's bigger than you and you're so skinny and you never got the hang of punching someone when I tried to teach you."
"He's really not," Kurt said and the knowing way he spoke, so much more adult and sexual than Burt had ever heard from Kurt before made his insides twist.
Burt gave into his urge to hug his son. Kurt's arms immediately wrapped around him, just like always. "Let me have this, Kurt. I promise I won't be too hard on the boy. I just really want to scare him until he never thinks of having sex with you again as long as I'm alive."
Kurt sighed. "Just don't ruin him. I have plans to ask him to prom and if he's too frightened of you to go with me, I will ban donuts from the shop. I will destroy that secret cache of junk food you have that you think I don't know about. I know you and I can break you."
Kurt began to turn Burt towards the stairs and push him away. Burt let him, a smile growing on his face at the thought that his boy was growing up. He couldn't help but think that it was going too fast, but that didn't stop him from feeling proud of his son. His stupid, skinny son who couldn't figure out how to lock a door.