A/N: The original idea was given to me by Yoshi12370 on Tumblr and deviantART. Their idea was to have the Hummel-Hudsons and the Karofskys share a villa in some beach-type retreat for a vacation as per mistake of the agency/company that rents out the villas.

However, I decided instead after some brainstorming with a friend to have them share a cabin at a ski lodge in a different location, because oftentimes there are duplex-like or even mini-hotel-like cabins at ski lodges where you knowingly are going to share it with strangers and it makes for a cheaper, more fun experience. I know a cousin who did this, and wound up making a friend at such a place, although they did it up in the Dells of Wisconsin. But for this, I chose Colorado. I dunno, I've always wanted to go there, and I thought that would be a likely place for an epic cabin-oriented ski resort.

And now, without further explanation, I give you a five-part Kurtofsky ficlet. ;D

Extra note: this is AU after 2x15, "Sexy," since that's as far as I've seen up to prior to starting this miniature project.

Part I: Upon Arrival

It's supposed to be the vacation of a lifetime.

Through a raffle drawing at Carole's workplace, the Hummel-Hudson family won an all-paid expenses trip to a ski resort lodge in Colorado, right on the Rockies. The only thing they'll have to pay for is transportation and any extra things they'd like to buy from shops on the resort and in town, but other than that, they're allowed full access to a stocked refrigerator in their cabin, as well as meals at the main building of the resort where they are free to use the game rooms, spa treatments, and all of the skiing and snowboarding and ice skating activities available. There's even a hot tub in the cabin they're staying at, as well as a pool at the main building.

It has everything: snow, fun, and relaxation. Everything Kurt needs after a little over a year at Dalton, and after all the bullying and homework and non-self-expression due to lack of personal clothes. After all of the stress of Sectionals, Regionals, and Nationals. After all of it, Kurt is beyond ready for some R&R, particularly the sort which includes a cozy fireplace in a wintry cabin and, best of all, the added bonus of a free-access spa. Kurt is going to spoil himself, and all because he knows he's worth it.

Finn is pretty excited to go, too; he can't wait to try his hand at skiing and snowboarding, and all those manly, sporty things. He wants to ride the ski lift, wants to flirt with some girls since he's currently single after messing up so badly with Quinn and Rachel repeatedly, and he's prepared to go all out at the all-you-can-eat nightly buffet at the resort's main building.

Carole, like Kurt, can't wait for that Jacuzzi and spa. She also is a secret lover of skiing, ever since she went years ago to a place in Minnesota as a teen. And her husband is just happy to see all of his family happy, and is a little glad to be free of the summer heat in the garage, away from fixing all those cars, long enough to clear his head.

But, the offer warns, this is so cheap – mostly free, that is – because they're trying out their new open duplex cabins in the forest within the resort's limits. They are essentially conducting an experiment, using company raffles as the outlet for it, to see if it'll be a big hit of getting a cabin but sharing it with strangers. It can be a thrill, they say; it can be a way to bring people together.

Except there's always a problem with blind grouping, whether it's having a teacher pick groups in class or a ski lodge placing two families in the same cabin, it doesn't matter, because people will be people, and people can get on each other's nerves.

Although the Hummel-Hudsons don't mind. Why should they? They are four quite easygoing people, with the exception of Kurt on occasion. Aside from his diva moments, they are kind, caring souls who can get along with just about anybody.

Right?

XXX

The Karofskys don't get many lucky breaks.

If Paul gets a bonus, it's a rare treat. If they're able to talk the school board out of Dave's expulsion, it's him being cut some slack. And if they happen to win anything by raffle or otherwise, it's sheer chance.

But, by the grace of God, they do win. They get an all-expenses-paid trip to a fancy-smancy ski lodge up in Colorado, with some sort of duplex setting of a cabin, and the like. On the offer, it says that they're permitted two weeks of stay at no cost. Two weeks of vacation in a chilly place in the middle of an Ohio summer? Count them in, all three of them.

Dave is the most excited, actually. He figures it'll be a related time where he can hopefully come out to his parents without any consequences, since they keep pestering him about never dating and turning down each girl's offer to him. It's gonna be rough, but at least Dave accepts it about himself for now. At least he knows who he is, finally. It took a while, but he knows, now. And it's somewhat of a comfort to at least know.

Plus, seeing some Colorado boys might be a good way to take his mind off of Hummel, since he keeps thinking how Kurt might return to McKinley for his senior year, and Dave isn't sure how he's going to deal with that now that he's accepted his sexuality to himself; it wouldn't be right to go back to the bullying, but it wouldn't feel right to simply ignore Kurt, either. Not after that kiss that Dave still thinks about occasionally.

Sighing, Dave gets packing for the trip. He takes out his hockey duffel bag – hardly used since sophomore year when he had been on the team – and he fills it with all his snow gear and ice skating gear, and he plans on using that ice rink to his advantage. He might be a little rusty after nearly an entire year of non-play, he he's sure there will be a few people to practice with.

And then there's the matter of clothes. It's for two weeks, right? But there's a washer and dryer in the cabin. So he could only bring about a week's worth of clothes and then wash them, right?

Unsure, he goes and asks his mother. She nods absentmindedly, and tells him that he could even bring less if he wanted to; it depended on how often he planned on doing his laundry, and how warm he wanted to be, since layers are always a benefit when one is up in the mountains.

Shrugging again, Dave returns to his room to pack, and winds up bringing four pairs of lounge pants, three pairs of jeans, and about six shirts. And then enough boxers for about five school days. Whatever. He tosses in his swim trunks for good measure, and one set of long johns in case he feels like skiing. Over all, he has enough clothes between his suitcase and duffel bag to put on a runway show. Not that he knows anything about modeling at all. Nope.

XXX

Meanwhile, across town, Kurt is also packing early. He plans fourteen outfits, packs them all between three suitcases, but then gets snapped at by his father for bringing way too much and winds up assembling seven outfits and seven sleepwear sets, and then, of course, his (highly fashionable) snow gear and (adorable) swim wear. At this point, he's down to two suitcases, since he decides to go as far as to pack all of his toiletries into a special mini-bag and tuck it away into the less-full case.

Finn is a disaster waiting to happen when it comes to preparing for a trip, so Carole and Kurt take it upon themselves to do Finn the favor of packing for him. Kurt packs less for his stepbrother, insisting that Finn can do his laundry while they're there. Carole doesn't protest. She helps her son out with a few more things before dragging Kurt away to help her pack for herself and Burt (who over-packs like Kurt, surprisingly; he seems to think of too many possibilities for needing clothes, like ripping or staining them or something).

In the end, the Hummel-Hudsons are finally ready for their trip, and the timing couldn't be more perfect, because they're going to catch their flight the morning after next.

XXX

The rush to the airport is Dave's least favorite part. He detests the scans and searches and checkpoints, and mutters to himself how 9/11/01 made all of this even worse, and wonders why people can't be nice to one another and voice war and terrorism alike, his own meager acts of violence toward other students aside, since he really never did anything worse than shoves into lockers and small tussles against people like Evans.

But once Dave's on the plane, he doesn't mind it so much. The plane is packed tightly in second-class, and there's always a baby crying somewhere in the rows of seats, but he has his cell phone for texting and his PSP for gameplay, and that's about all he cares about.

Elsewhere, apart from the Karofskys entirely, the Hummel-Hudsons are on another flight headed for the same place, but at a much earlier time. While Dave settles into his seat and awaits take-off and pulls out his PSP, Kurt is in the air, reading a magazine and trying to keep his equilibrium settled as he chats idly with Carole and allows Finn to sleep on his shoulder.

The flight is comfortable, even in second-class, and Kurt doesn't mind it in the least. By the time they arrive, Finn had added a good three hours of sleep to his minimal night's rest (the poor boy was overexcited like a kid on Christmas Eve), and Kurt had caught up on all of the most recent fashions and celebrity gossip.

The Karofskys land approximately an hour later. While the Hummel-Hudsons unbeknownst to the Karofskys tour the town surrounding the resort, the Karofskys themselves get settled in the cabin immediately.

"I suppose the other family we're supposed to share with hasn't stopped by yet," Paul shrugs as he brings his and his wife's suitcases into one of the master bedrooms. The Cabin is laid out quite nicely: the two master bedrooms are on opposite sides, upstairs, and descend two pine staircases (almost everything is thick wood on the inside, save for the brick fireplace in the front center) and meet in a common living room that flows into the common kitchen. There are two bathrooms, one on each side upstairs, and one spare bedroom besides the master. And through the kitchen there is an attached deck, closed in with windows, that holds chairs and the Jacuzzi inside.

It's a nice place; a really nice place. Sure, there are a few stereotypical taxidermy animals here and there in the corners or on the walls, and sure, there isn't much carpet except for upstairs, but the place is warm and cozy and rustic and charming, and Paul's wife is in love with it, and Dave seems oddly content about it, and it's recluse compared to the other cabins on the ski resort's property, so who cares?

Dave is the first to plop down on the large, thick, forest green sofa and flick on the widescreen plasma TV hanging on the wall. He slides off the couch and scoots closer to the fireplace as he flips through the extended cable.

"This place rocks," Dave remarks with a grin. He glances over his shoulder at his parents. "Seriously, I'm so glad you won this trip, Dad. I feel good about this."

"Well, I'm glad, David. You've been a little down lately, so I was hoping this would raise your spirits."

Dave brushes off the comment and shrugs. "Well, you didn't hope in vain; I love it here already. I can't wait to go out tonight and see all the stuff they have in the main building, and then go outside tomorrow for all of their cool winter-sport stuff."

"Sounds like a plan," Dave's mother agrees with a smile. She moves into the kitchen and whips out of the bags the brought in there her homemade cocoa mix. She makes a cup for herself, brings one to her son, and offers her husband a mug. He declines, so she shrugs and says that she'll leave it as a peace offering for when the other family shows up.

The three recline backward, watch the hours fly by, and try to shake off their jetlag feelings.

And then the second family arrives.

They unlock the door and step inside, small gasps emitting from them. Paul Karofsky makes it his duty to go and greet the second family, curious to see how they are and where they came from originally.

Imagine Paul's surprise when he sees his mechanic.

"Burt? Burt Hummel?" he frowns lightly, not sure what to make of this, because the last he'd recently seen of the man was when they were on separate sides of a principal's office, vouching for their sons.

"Paul Karofsky?" Burt looks caught off-guard, and a little distracted, as he drops the suitcases in his arms and his wife and sons file in behind him. Kurt stiffens and goes white when he spies the familiar robust face, and in the distance behind him, spies another all-too-familiar mug.

"Fancy that," Burt mutters, standing up straight and unzipping his coat. "We're rooming with a fellow Lima family. Well, as it stands, our last memories of each other are a little iffy…"

"But you are my mechanic. I don't trust anyone else with my car. And our sons attend the same school and grade, so we can't let any bad blood flow between us. For these next two weeks, I propose we be as civil as possible and act like one big happy group," Paul says monotonously but reassuringly.

Mrs. Karofsky nods in agreement and steps forward. She looks a little older than Carole; in fact, she and her husband both look a little older than the Hummel-Hudson couple, despite the fact that they all have children the same age. "Hello, dear. I don't believe we've met," she says politely, sweetly. And it isn't an act.

Carole smiles and yanks off her gloves before giving the brunette woman's hands a shake. She's slimmer than her husband and son, and she's shorter even than Carole. She wears an honest face, heart-shaped, and her eyes and curly hair are exactly like Dave's.

"I'm Carole," she says.

"I'm Lacey," Mrs. Karofsky replies gently. "Do you like hot cocoa? I think there's enough for the four of you, if not at least two of you."

"You're so sweet; I'd love some cocoa, thank you," Carole replies with a smile. She turns to face the two gaping teenage boys behind her. "By the looks on your faces," she says, putting her hands on her hips while Lacey goes into the kitchen to spoon out a mug of the chocolaty beverage for Carole, "I'd say you both think this is going to be awful. But we're here to have fun, remember? And you don't have to be best friends, since I remember names and I know that boy over there hasn't been the best to either of you, least of all Kurt. But I want the three of you to play nice, please; we're on vacation! We'll be so busy we'll hardly need to interact unless we want to." She glances over at where her husband and Mr. Karofsky have begun conversing as they walk toward the living room couch. "Burt?"

"Yes?" he answers, glancing back.

"This situation… it's a little rough for the boys, but it should be fine, right?"

Because Carole doesn't have any qualms with Lacey or Paul. She knows that the bullying their son did isn't entirely their fault due to lack of parenting or anything; she knows that sometimes, no matter how hard you try to raise a teenage boy, they rebel or get aggressive or, like Finn a little over a year ago, they use offensive slurs and lose their temper and yell at a classmate-turning-stepbrother. It happens. And in her heart, Carole truly believes that if she can befriend this couple, she can somehow show the three teenage boys between them that getting along is possible and that everybody is human.

Huffing with resentment, detestation, frustration, and irritation, Kurt drags his bags fully into the heart of the cabin before sharply jerking his head in the direction of the staircases. Tensely, all the while making sure not to glance at the teenage Karofsky, he inquires, "Which side is ours?"

"Oh! We took the rooms on the right. You and your family may have the ones on the left. They're all the same, though," Lacey calls as she trots back into the room and helps Carole out of her puffy coat before smiling and handing her a mug of cocoa.

It's too much. Kurt can't stand seeing the adults already getting along so well when all he can think about is how their son tormented him for so incredibly long. Grunting in disgust, Kurt traipses up the stairs on the left. He enters the master bedroom, realizes that it's meant for the parents, and proceeds to the other bedroom across from the bathroom. Look like him and Finn are sharing. But there are two twin beds, so that isn't so bad. He also notes a couch, television set, and a dresser and a closet.

Kurt unpacks all of his clothes, helps Finn when the boy shows up ten minutes later and tries to do the same, and he waits until Finn returns downstairs before he breaks. Kurt plops down onto the bed he claimed and screams into the pillow and mattress.

This is a tragedy! A debacle and a tragedy, because this is wrong and appalling and sad. How can this be? How, out of all of the odds across the nation, across Ohio, even, did this come to be? The Karofskys and the Hummel-Hudsons? Under one roof for half a month?

This is supposed to be relaxing. This is supposed to be fun. But how can it be, when all Kurt can think about is his bully being closer than ever, and even more of a threat to his existence?

How can it be enjoyable whatsoever when all Kurt can think about is how Karofsky can bury him alive in the snow or slash his throat with some ice skates or burn his body in the fireplace, all without the happy, happy parents noticing! And Finn won't do anything. He said he would, but he hadn't before, and he looks like he doesn't want to get involved while on vacation, the selfish bastard.

Kurt groans and lets a few self-pitying tears fall. Karofsky might not go so far as to carry out that death threat, and he might not shove Kurt since there aren't any lockers nearby, but he can still harass Kurt and he can still call Kurt names, and shitfuckdamn, what if Karofsky gets the bright idea to kiss Kurt again?

The soprano freezes in place, fists clenching into the bed sheets.

This is going to be the worst vacation ever.

And no one else is going to think so except for Kurt (and maybe Dave).