Title: Bananahead

Author: Spider

Pairings: Kurt/banana

Rating: PG?

Warnings: Inexplicit oral sex.

Spoilers: KURT LIVES IN THE BASEMENT!

Disclaimer: DEFINITELY not mine.

Summary: Burt comes across his son enjoying an afternoon snack.

Word Count: 803

Notes: This was written for a prompt on the Glee kink meme. c o m m u n i t y . l i v e j o u r n a l . c o m / g l e e _ k i n k _ m e m e / 1 4 1 4 . h t m l ? t h r e a d = 5 9 9 7 1 9 0 # t 5 9 9 7 1 9 0

.

.

BANANAHEAD

Where were his keys? Burt growled under his breath as he dug through the pile of mail on the kitchen counter, then went to the table beside the door, checking around (and in) Kurt's bag. No keys. The man huffed, stalking toward his son's bedroom door, pushing it open and clomping down the stairs.

Kurt had his music blasting and was lying across his bed, one knee drawn up, one foot on his pillow, his head hanging off the end and a half-eaten banana in his mouth. His eyes were closed, and he seemed lost in the moment, humming along to the ra-ra-ah-ah-ahs pouring from his stereo.

"Have you seen my keys?" Burt asked, rapping his knuckles on the post at the end of the stairs to get Kurt's attention. Kurt immediately jackknifed up, biting off the banana in his mouth, his eyes wide and startled. Burt felt a flicker of guilt for scaring Kurt, but the red-faced look of shock was too amusing.

Kurt coughed, choking on the fruit before he managed to spit it out into his hand (far more to that bite than Burt had expected—that was the other end of the fruit! Kurt hadn't eaten any of it at all!). "Dad!" he rasped, rubbing his throat with the back of his hand still closed around the banana. "Knock first! Please!" He had drawn both his legs up in front of him, staring somewhere above Burt's head.

Burt shrugged. "Never knocked before," he pointed out. "And it's not like you're getting dressed this time of the day." Or, well, knowing Kurt, he might have been. But he wasn't, so Burt didn't see what the big deal was. "Have you seen my keys?"

"Why would I have seen your keys?" Kurt asked, winding his arm around his knees and hugging them against his chest, his face still cherry-red. "I haven't driven your truck since Thursday."

Huh. Now that was odd. Why was Kurt acting like Burt really had caught him in between outfits? Kurt had been fully dressed, innocently enjoying his music and an afternoon snack...

Innocently? Burt glanced at the chunk of banana Kurt still held in his hand, so much more banana than he'd thought possible to fit in one guy's mouth. And Kurt's pose, concealing his lap from Burt's view. Oh sweet Jesus. He had walked in on... on what? It couldn't have been masturbation, as Kurt's pants were still on and his hands had been nowhere near his dick, but... practice? Yeah, that was probably a better word. Kurt had been practicing. Giving head. To a banana. And enjoying it, probably, from how careful he was to keep any stiffy covered.

Kurt gave an embarrassed little moan, ducking his head and hiding his face behind his knees. "God, Dad, just knock next time, please...?"

"I, uh, yeah." Burt rubbed the back of his neck and cleared his throat awkwardly, averting his gaze. Kurt's ceiling looked to be in fine shape. No cracks or water stains or anything like that. "So, er... you have a boyfriend?"

"Dad!" Burt could see Kurt shaking his head furiously out of the corner of his eye. "No, no, no boyfriend, do we have to have this conversation?"

"Yeah, cause I'm your parent, and I'm supposed to talk to my teenager about sex."

"I hate those PSAs," Kurt mumbled. "Okay. Fine. No, no boyfriend. No, not sexually active. No, I'm not planning on putting out to the first boy who doesn't run away screaming. No, I'm not planning on waiting until marriage, either. Yes, I know what I'm doing. In theory, anyway. Yes, I know how to use a condom, and I know all about safe homosexual sex. And het sex, for that matter." He lifted his head from his knees, face still scarlet but his chin set in a stubborn jut Burt knew only too well. "Satisfied?"

"Yeah," Burt said, rubbing his neck again. So his baby boy was practicing giving head to a banana for some undetermined time in the way far future and not because some knucklehead was trying to get handsy. That was good. Very good. "Yeah, uh... yeah." He turned and retreated up the stairs, pausing halfway up as a thought occurred to him. It was a horrible thought, evil and awkward, but... "Hey Kurt?"

"Yes, Dad?" Kurt's exasperated response made Burt grin a little. What good was being a parent if you couldn't embarrass your kid every now and then? Kurt's future husband (because any boy good enough for Burt's son would be the marrying sort) would get to hear this story someday. He might as well make it good.

"Not to uh, critique your technique or anything, but you may want to try less teeth next time."

Kurt's shocked "Daaaaad!" followed Burt's laughter up the stairs.