Title: Boys on the Beach
Author: Spider
Pairing, Character(s): Burt, Kurt, touch of Mercedes and some anonymous eyecandy
Rating: PG
Warnings: Boys drooling over boys. In bathing suits.
Spoilers: KURT IS GAY! Whoops, was that supposed to be behind a cut?
Disclaimer: I'd say this belonged to Fox and not me, except she claims it's not hers either...
Summary: Burt regrets giving Kurt a California vacation when Kurt starts to ogle the locals... and they flirt right back.
Word Count: 2093
Notes: Written for this glee fluff meme prompt: http:/ /tiny. cc/ a9zsa . Also, this video (http:/ /tiny. cc/ pzc04) was very inspirational. Warning, it has hot gay guys in swimsuits singing Katy Perry...
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BOYS ON THE BEACH
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A full day of sun, sand, and surf might be just what the doctor ordered for Kurt, but it had left Burt with quite a migraine. Kurt had taken him back to their shared hotel room (two queen beds, they each had their own) and tucked him into his own bed with a soft kiss to his cheek and a cool, damp cloth for his forehead. Burt had closed his eyes and smiled as Kurt drew the heavy curtains closed and disappeared into the bathroom with his shower bag (only Burt's son would back an entire suitcase just for bathroom products), not about to tell the boy that the kiss soothed him far more than the cloth or the darkness.
Kurt had been the cause of Burt's headache, after all. There was only so much a father could take of watching his scantily-clad son prancing around and getting eye-fucked by ever other boy on the beach. Kurt had picked out a new swimsuit for this trip to California, and Burt had been expecting with a little more fabric than the tight, red... thing Kurt had ended up in.
He should count his blessings. At least it was more coverage than a speedo.
In the bathroom, Burt heard the shower turn off, and a few minutes later, the curtain shicked open. The hotel walls certainly were thin. Burt could hear every movement Kurt made, the slap of damp feet on the tile floor, the thrum of a towel bar as Kurt pulled it free, even the rustle of damp hair as Kurt rubbed his head vigorously.
Thank god Kurt hadn't decided to jerk off in the shower over any of those boys. Burt reached up, tugging the cloth down over his eyes as his head gave another throb just at the thought. He loved his son, he really did, but there were some things he just did not want to know about his little boy.
Hell, there were some things he didn't want to see, but Kurt had had his whole body on display this whole day. He might have been covered, but that clinging spandex hadn't left much to the imagination. At least sixteen times, Burt had been tempted to rush over and fling a towel over Kurt. But sixteen times, he had held back. Kurt was seventeen now, hardly his baby son. Seventeen. Practically an adult. Seventeen, and sexual, and allowed to look for the first time.
Burt remembered being seventeen. He'd ogled every girl who walked past, butts, tits, legs... He remembered (distantly) what it had been like to be a raging ball of hormones, his eyes lingering on every feminine curve. He had to imagine Kurt felt something like that around guys... but in Lima, to look at another guy in an appraising way would be the fastest way for Kurt to come home sporting a black eye or stained clothes.
California didn't seem to care. The beach was full of men with tight suits of their own, and chiseled abs and tanned skin, most of them blond. Kurt had stuck out horribly, his skin almost blending in with the white sand.
He had been whistled at, looked over, and even flirted with. Burt groaned, pressing the cloth tighter against his eyes as he vaguely registered Kurt's voice in the bathroom, talking with someone. Mercedes, he recognized the other voice. Kurt must have called her and put his cell on speakerphone while he prissied himself up. And Kurt had flirted back. Burt had been ready to leap to Kurt's defense should any of those men try getting handsy with his boy... but Kurt had ended up staying where he was.
"Oh Mercedes, the songs might all be written about California girls, but they have nothing on California boys!"
You're not allowed to sound that enthusiastic about guys twice your age, Burt grumbled to himself.
"There was this one, he was in a blue speedo—it was sapphire, Mercedes, and I kid you not, it was the exact color of his eyes..." Kurt gave a happy sigh in the bathroom, and Burt's frown deepened. Oh, he remembered Sapphire Speedo all right, the first of the guys who had actually approached Kurt, standing over him. Kurt had craned his neck back, one hand shading his eyes, and Burt had wanted to slap it away, make him stop looking so inviting. Sapphire Speedo had all but thrust his dick into Kurt's mouth right then and there. What do you think you're doing with my boy, bub? Burt had thought. Back away before someone gets hurt... Sapphire Speedo had gotten Kurt laughing, though, his shoulders curling, one hand curving over his mouth... but then he had left Kurt alone. Kurt hadn't seemed upset at Sapphire's sudden lack of interest, just gave a toss of his head and resettled his sunglasses on his nose.
"Or, oh, Christian..." And the way Kurt all but moaned that name had Burt clenching his teeth.
Christian was the one younger than Sapphire Speedo, Burt was sure of it. Kurt had actually glanced over at Burt when he had been watching Christian splashing around in the waves with some of his friends, and he had blushed when Burt raised an eyebrow, but he had actually dared to mouth He's hot! to Burt before turning his attention back to man-watching.
Christian might have been decent for Kurt, if Kurt wanted a weeklong boyfriend. He didn't look that much older than Kurt, and he wasn't much bigger. Kurt could take him in a fight if he tried anything funny... but too many piercings. Way too many piercings. You know he could kick your ass, right, punk? He's a cheerleader. A WMHS Cheerio. Who you think you trying to fool, with that metal hanging out of your mouth? Doesn't make you look tougher. Kurt's too good for you. You just want to fuck him, don't think I can't see how your mind works. I see where your eyes are. Yeah, that's right, you'd better look up. What do you think you're doing? Where are you taking him! Burt had nearly panicked when Christian leapt to his feet and held out his hand to Kurt, but Kurt had demurely waved him aside, turning his face away with a coy smile on his lips. Burt had scowled and crossed his arms until Christian looked his way, paled, and ran back to the water. Burt had snorted to himself before settling back down. The sun did feel good soaking into his bones...
"But Mercedes, none of them compared to..." Was Kurt squealing in there! Burt sat up abruptly, staring at the bathroom wall in alarm. "Three words. Finn. Hudson. Doppleganger. Only, you know, in these short little trunks that laced up the front and nothing else, and he was totally checking me out..."
"I thought you were over Finn," Mercedes said, and Burt very nearly choked on his tongue. Finn. Finn. Bad enough that tall, muscular guy on the beach had been posing, glancing over Kurt's way every time he shifted, flexing his muscles in the sun (and Kurt had reached out and lowered his glasses to watch, responding to the Doppleganger's wink with a lick of his lips, and dear god, Kurt, there was no need to be so encouraging!). What are your intentions with my boy? Burt had thought as he eyed the Doppleganger earlier that afternoon. You expect him to just roll over for you? You realize you'll have to work for him, don't you? My Kurt's no easy ride. What sort of job do you have? What kind of money are you pulling in? You'll have to work hard to keep him happy outside the bedroom... and to keep up with him!
But those were all random strangers. Finn was different. Finn was real. Kurt knew his name, first, last, and unfortunate middle. Kurt had shared a town with him, a school, a family, a room. Finn was not only a very possible object of lust for Kurt... he was also an actual plausible boyfriend. Except that he was straight and had a girlfriend and was apparently battling a streak of hidden homophobia.
"I am," Kurt was assuring Mercedes in the bathroom. "But Mercedes, even you have to admit that boy is gorgeous. And this one was even more."
Mercedes laughed, and Burt picked up his damp cloth again, rubbing it across his forehead. "So, sweetie, which of these fabulous hunks of manflesh are you going to be playing with this week?"
Kurt laughed back, and Burt heard the clack of his hairbrush being set back on the counter. "Oh no, Mercedes. Don't get me wrong, they were all absolutely to-die-for hot, but... nah. I'm only here for a week, and most of them were being old perverts anyway. Dad would never approve."
He didn't say those words sadly, Burt noted, looking toward the bathroom once more. He stated them as if it were a simple fact. He didn't want anyone Burt didn't approve of. The older man had to smile, closing his eyes for a moment. Yeah, he raised his boy right, all right.
"Anyway, I should go. Dad's been lying down with a headache ever since we got back, and I don't want to disturb him."
"Aww, you're such a good son," Mercedes teased, and Kurt laughed.
"What can I say? I love my dad. Love you too, Cedes. I'll see you next week."
"Come back with pictures!" Mercedes blew Kurt a kiss over the phone, and he laughed as he snapped his phone closed and pulled the bathroom door open.
"Dad?" Kurt paused in the little hall outside the bathroom, looking surprised to see Burt sitting up in the bed. Kurt was dressed in a fluffy robe, his hair damp and curling a little at the ends, his skin pink all over, probably from his tubs of sunscreen wearing off. Kurt glanced toward the bathroom, his face falling a little. "I'm sorry, did I wake you? I tried to be quiet..."
"C'mere, kiddo," Burt said gruffly, patting the bed beside him. Kurt clambered onto the bed, all long limbs and a gangly sort of fluidity. He was growing too fast to keep up with himself, Burt realized, his natural grace replaced temporarily by the clumsiness all teenage boys suffered through. He was growing up, becoming a man... and there was already that man peering out at him from his little boy's blue eyes. "You know I love you, right?"
"Of course," Kurt answered softly, insinuating himself under Burt's arm and leaning against his side. "And I love you. I'll always love you most."
"No matter what other guys come into your life?" Burt rubbed his arm along Kurt's fluffy sleeve, and Kurt smiled.
"Oh, I'll love them sure enough, but I can only ever have one father. Carole doesn't mean I love Mom any less. Having a boyfriend won't mean I stop loving you..."
Burt took a deep breath, squeezing Kurt's arm. "I was listening to you, talking to Mercedes in there. Thin walls."
"Oh," Kurt said, his nose and cheeks pinking up a little further. "Oh..."
"Yeah, oh." Burt ruffled Kurt's damp hair and then gave his son a smile. "I wanted to tell you... I trust you." At Kurt's confused look, Burt clarified, "With boys. I trust you to... find boys good for you. Boys I don't need to worry about leaving you alone with. You're a smart kid, Kurt. You turned out good, in spite of my bumbling-"
"You weren't-"
"I was," Burt said, shaking his head with a rueful little smile. "I swear, your mom must've watched over you to make sure you ate right and got a bath most nights and to bed at a reasonable hour... but no. You're a good kid. And I just want to say... you don't have to worry about whether or not I'd approve of your boyfriends. Because if you approve, then I'll approve. Although, ideally, you'd only ever have one boyfriend and he'd be your soul mate and you two would be happy from the moment you met to the day you die a hundred years from now, but... you know, whatever you do works for me."
"Love you, Dad."
"Love you too, kiddo," Burt said, squeezing Kurt against his side. "Love you too..."