Redecorating

Burt Hummel blinked, squeezed his eyes shut and vigorously rubbed them with his fingertips, then opened them and blinked again. The apparition had not vanished. Before him, exiting Kurt's truck at the entrance of Hummel Lube & Tune, were two of the strangest-looking people he had ever seen.

They approached him, looking something like a cross between super-heroes and drag-queens, one in silvery blue with a jeweled and powdered wig, sashaying forth in the most ridiculous shoes he had ever laid eyes on, and the other in shiny red with some kind of glittery circles around his eyes, approaching much more tentatively, though his head was held high against the crowd of gaping and chuckling mechanics.

"Hi, Dad!" the blue one chirped.

"Kurt," he said carefully, the name almost a question. Turning to the red-clad figure, he likewise greeted, "Finn?"

Finn smiled nervously. "Hi, Mr. Hummel."

Praying in his innermost soul that these boys were not about to reveal that the fight they'd had in their shared basement bedroom yesterday had been Finn's awkward attempt to come out of the closet, and that now they'd added cross-dressing to the list of lifestyle changes he just wasn't quite ready to hear about, Burt gestured them to the side of the garage where they could talk without being overheard. "You, uh . . . you boys want to tell me why Halloween has come early this year?"

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Dad, I told you about glee-club performing a theatricality theme this week, headlined by the brilliant work of Lady Gaga."

Yes, he had. Burt remembered that now. At the time he had just nodded, not having a clue who his son was talking about, but now he smiled, relieved that the costumes had a simple explanation. "So, what, she's like Bowie or something?"

Finn finally cracked a smile when Kurt said in an exasperated aside to him, "Why do people keep saying that?"

"The girls and Kurt were doing Gaga, the guys were doing KISS," he explained, shifting a little when Burt's eyebrow rose in a warning gesture. "That is, the rest of the guys. But then, after yesterday I got to thinking that really wasn't fair. So I asked Mom to help me fix up a Gaga costume of my own. You know, to sort of show Kurt that I really was sorry for what I said. That was stupid and you were right. I got so bent out of shape yesterday because the guys had been ragging me about being Kurt's boyfriend and I kind of freaked out when he seemed to be assuming the same thing. What you said made me realize that I was angry at Kurt when I should have been angry at the guys who made me feel like it was more wrong to have a gay friend than it was to hate everyone who isn't exactly like yourself. "

"Finn more than proved his loyalty as a friend today, Dad," Kurt cut in hopefully. "We've been talking on the way home, and we both want to give this new living arrangement a second chance. I realized that I've been putting a lot of pressure on Finn, wanting him to respect and accept my being gay, while I haven't been willing to respect and accept his being straight. We are who we are, and neither of us should have to change ourselves just to be friends."

The taller boy ducked his head and smiled, giving Kurt a friendly shove with his elbow that nearly knocked him off balance in his ridiculously high heels. Straightening his hem with extreme dignity, Kurt hip-checked Finn and both boys grinned.

Burt nodded, feeling a wonderful sensation of relief at the sight of these two extremely different young men horsing around together. He had been angry yesterday but a talk with Carole had reminded him that Finn, like Kurt, was only sixteen years old and probably under an immense amount of pressure from his buddies. It was obvious now that his first impression of Finn Hudson had not been wrong, and by the looks of things Finn had taken his lecture to heart. Burt felt a strong stirring of admiration as he studied the red superhero costume that Finn wore. He could not even imagine having had the guts when he was sixteen to show up to school in a giant red plastic dress, just to support a friend.

"Sounds like you boys have both learned a lesson that will stick with you. That's about all a man could ask." Wiping his grease-stained hands off on a towel, Burt extended the right one to Finn. "Welcome home."

Finn breathed a sigh and smiled, accepting the handshake, while Kurt's expression was so bright it practically turned his shimmery costume incandescent.

"Dad, we're going home to change clothes and grab something to eat, but afterward, can we borrow the flatbed?" Kurt asked.

"Sure," he agreed. "What do you need it for?"

Kurt looked at Finn, who seemed no more enlightened than Burt about the other boy's request. "We need to go by Finn's old house and pick up his dad's chair and a few other things he'll need when we redecorate our room."

Finn reached out and gripped his friend's shoulder above the absurdly huge triangular shoulder-pad that covered it. "That privacy screen was pretty cool. I think we should keep that. But the lamps have gotta go. They look like something Rachel would own."

"Oh, now you're just being insulting," Kurt said, sashaying away in his giant shoes, chattering about taste, artistic design, and people who appreciated neither one, while Finn clomped along beside him arguing in favor of comfort and functionality. Glancing over his shoulder, Kurt interrupted himself to call back, "See you later, Dad."

"Bye, Mr. Hummel."

Burt watched them go, wondering how long it would take before he could convince Finn to use his first name, as Kurt did with Carole. After all, he thought with a satisfied smile, the four of them were practically family.

THE END