A/N- I'm not even sure what this is. It's not really funny or anything but it's not very sad either. It's not really my usual kind of story but i wanted to try something new. Oh, well. Not my best work but i wrote it so i might as well post it. Let me know what you think.
Disclaimer- I own nothing. If i did there would be a lot more Kurt/Burt on the show.
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Parental Misadventures Cause by Snooping
"In spite of the six thousand manuals on child raising in the bookstores, child raising is still a dark continent and no one really knows anything. You just need a lot of love and luck - and, of course, courage." ~Bill Cosby, Fatherhood, 1986
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The first time i found something i would have rather not seen was when Kurt was only four.
There was already so much i just so did not get about about my son. He didn't really seem to show any interest in sports or rough housing like all the other little boys his age. I know that when i was his age i was obsessed about baseball cards and football games on TV. Where as Kurt had what was probably a pretty unhealthy obsession with princess stuff.
Kurt had every Disney princess movie on DVD (this was before he discovered musicals, which is a whole other story), every Disney doll, every tiara with fake jewels re-glued on by yours truly when they started to fall off from over-use. He would sit in front of the television, completely entranced, whenever my wife would pop in Cinderella or snow white for him. When the movie ran it's course he would bounce up, full of that little kid energy, and race to the DVD case to grab another that he would beg one of us to let him watch.
You would think that as your typical middle America, car fixing, sports watching, redneck father that i would have a problem with it. Most people probably assume that i would be pushing him into sports or refusing to buy him his precious dolls. But Kurt was my son. I loved Kurt, Kurt loved princess stuff. End of story.
Besides, i already tried the whole sports thing and it didn't work and Kate got mad.
So when i found the princess coloring book shoved unceremoniously into Kurt's toy chest i wasn't at all surprised. There were probably twenty more just like it lying all around the house somewhere. What surprised me the most about the discovery was where i found it, shoved up against the wall of the chest, hidden from view by barbies dream car. It looked like he was hiding it for some reason.
Even as a child, Kurt was completely meticulous about his things. All his coloring books had to be kept in a certain place in a certain order (arranged alphabetically by theme). So it would make no sense that a book was stowed alongside his princess dolls and plastic tiaras. Most likely it was the work of the babysitter who had watched him during date night.
I put away the toy i had come to put away and grabbed the book to move it back alongside the others. While i walked over to where the coloring books were kept i started to skim through the pages. One of the best things about having a kid was getting to watch them progress. Learning to walk, talk and color in the lines. Already, Kurt was getting better at the coloring. His pictures were actually Starting to make sense as opposed to looking like colorful scribbles, like most of the artwork of his peers. That just proved what I'd long since known; my little boy was obviously advanced for his age. He takes after his mother like that. God knows he didn't get it from me.
I stopped when i got to the most recent picture. It was of Prince Charming holding up a sword with neat little hearts drawn all around him in childish red and pink crayon.
I stared at it for a couple minutes. The picture was confirming something Kate and i had been talking about a while, ever since Kurt told us he wanted a pair of sensible heels for his third birthday.
But still Kurt was too young for us to really know. And all little kids idolize Disney characters. The kid probably just looked up to the prince.
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The second time i stumbled across something personal of Kurt's i had been putting away his laundry.
Kurt was thirteen and Kate had been dead for almost three years now and i still wasn't too good at all this house work stuff. The first time i used the washing machine i had to call my mom to walk me through the steps. That hadn't stopped me from dying half our clothing pink by accident. But that was OK, Kurt had insisted, because pink was his color.
At least the laundry incident had given me something to say to Kurt, even if that 'something' was "sorry, i ruined you're new two hundred dollar sweater".
Since his mother died, we didn't really talk much. Kate had always acted as a sort of buffer for us. With out her conversations died in the first few minutes and left both of us feeling awkward and confused. He didn't understand my sports stuff, i didn't get all his fashion crap. Naturally, it didn't take long for us to drift apart.
That was something i regretted for years. I should have tried harder to understand Kurt. I was his parent, the only one he had left, and i was supposed to try and take an interest in my son's hobbies and crap. Even if, more often than not, his hobbies involved fashion, musicals and reality TV.
I was putting away his underwear when my hand hit something hard at the bottom of the drawer. I pushed a pair of Calvin clien briefs aside and grabbed a book out from under a neat little pile of socks.
Naturally, as a parent to a teenager, my first reaction was "please don't be porn. For the love of god, don't be porn."
Luckily, it wasn't porn. But once i read the title i really started to wish that it had been.
The book proclaimed in bold letters "You Don't Have to Be Gay" and, in smaller letters at the bottom, "Hope and Freedom for Males Struggling With Homosexuality or for Those Who Know of Someone Who Is".
I suddenly felt nauseous and i shoved the book roughly back where i found it and slammed the drawer shut, as if i could store away the memory of what i had just seen.
I had known my son was gay for quite some time now. I had never been thrilled about it, to say the least. But with a dying wife, a new business and a son depending on me; the issue of Kurt's sexuality just sort of got shoved into the background. After Kate died I started to realize that in the grand scheme of things i just didn't think it was all that big of a deal.
But, judging by that book, Kurt thought it was a big deal. A very big deal. So big of a deal, in fact, that it was something he had to try and change or fix.
It wasn't because of me, was it? Did he think that i wouldn't love him anymore if he were gay? I know that we didn't talk much at all but he had to have known that i adored him. How could i not? He was all i had left. He was my son.
Did i do something that would make him think i would reject him? And if not, then where in the hell would he even get the idea that he would have to try and stop being gay?
I really tried to create an accepting environment when I first started to suspect about Kurt. We stopped going to church when I heard the narrow-minded preacher start to talk about the damnation of sodomites. I fired one of my new workers from the garage when i heard him call some college athlete a 'fag' after he missed the ball (by this time, everybody knew that you didn't say that word in my garage, around me or my kid)so that Kurt wouldn't have to deal with any of that hate while growing up.
I couldn't even begin to imagine what Kurt must have been going through. When i was his age i was checking out the senior girls and throwing kids like him in the dumpster. Where as Kurt is struggling to change who he is (and failing, I'm assuming, because i just don't think that's something you can change), for whatever reason.
A good father would go and find his son right away. Confront the issue and assure him that he was loved no matter who he was of who he fell in love with.
But i guess I'm not a very good father, because i just left the rest of his clothes in a neatly folded pile on the end of his bed and walked away. There is some stuff i really just don't know how to deal with. So i did nothing.
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The third time i ran into something of Kurt's i wasn't supposed to see it actually was porn.
I had been searching for some hand lotion that Kurt raved about and had insisted would fix the dry cracked skin of my hands from working in the garage all day. Everything on his vanity seemed to be for your face or in another language so i checked his nightstand drawer, which is were i found the before mentioned porn.
Chances are I was the only parent on the planet who was relieved to find gay porn in their fifteen year old son's room. At least this means that Kurt was no longer trying to change his sexuality through crazy religious self-therapy.
In fact, (if the magazine with the sweaty, muscled, half-naked men on the cover was anything to go by) Kurt seemed to have come to terms with his sexuality completely. Or at least enough to own a PLAYGIRL.
I carefully placed the magazine back where I found it and shut the drawer. I really need to wash my hands now, if Kurt uses porn for the same things i did when i was his age. I'd imagine, gay or straight, that mush doesn't change.
Still, i was only so relieved. Kurt was about to turn sixteen and he still hadn't come out to me. Sometimes, after telling me he wants to talk, he'd stand in front of me, looking nervous, and opening and closing his mouth a few times like an extremely fashionable fish before mumbling something incoherently and running down the stairs into his bedroom.
I spend a lot of my time worrying about him. I love Kurt dearly, but let's face it. The boys so flaming he could cook a marshmallow. And in a small, narrow-minded town like Lima, i know he probably got a lot of crap for it.
I tried to make things easier for Kurt. i really did. I didn't bother him about not liking sports or call him out on it when he made doe eyes at some boy at the store. That was who Kurt was and i would just have to accept it. He would come to me when he was ready.
But i knew that there was a lot of stuff i couldn't protect Kurt from. A lot of stuff Kurt wouldn't even let me try to protect him from.
Kurt thinks he's good at being secretive and protecting me but i know all about the bullying he must receive. I went to that same high school and i shudder to think of what my friends and i would have done to a boy like Kurt. A boy who was small, sarcastic and feminine like Kurt.
Things probably won't get any easier for Kurt while he's in high school. But things would be better if he would just tell me. So we could have it all out in the open. Then i could tell him that i loved him and that he needed to be careful because the world was full of ignorant and hateful people (something i have no doubt that he had begun to realize by this point).
But until Kurt decided I could be trusted with this piece of information i could at least take comfort in the fact that he must be coming to terms with himself. Hopefully he would come out of the closet soon.
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The fourth time i found more unwanted information in Kurt's room, i swore i was never going to open his drawers again. And i was going to get him a lock for his door, first thing tomorrow.
This was all after Kurt had come out to me and we were getting along better than ever. I was trying to take an interest in Kurt's hobbies and passions so i was looking through his desk drawers hoping to find information about whatever play or musical he was obsessed with at the moment. His birthday was coming up and i wanted to surprise him with tickets to something. I was getting a little sick of going to see river-dance every year.
I found some sheet music in the first drawer from play called Wicked that i had heard Kurt babble on about on more than a few occasions. But i didn't know if that was still something he was interested in or not so i kept looking through the lower drawers. It wasn't till i reached the bottom drawer that i found the one thing i wish the most that i could unfind.
It was powder pink and had a soft outside that felt a little like a mixture of rubber and suede. I pulled it out, confused. The mystery object was long and just thick enough to fit perfectly in the base of my palm. I stared at it for a moment while i tried to figure out what it was. When i flipped it over in my hands i found a small switch and flicked it.
The toy came to life in my hands and started to vibrate quietly.
Oh my god, I had thought as a horrified realization dawned on me. It's a vibrator.
I was so frozen in horror than i didn't hear the door at the top of the stairs shut and the footsteps descend down the steps.
"Oh my god..."
My first thought was that i had spoken aloud but when i looked up from the still shaking toy i saw Kurt standing by the stairs, looking just as frozen and horrified as i felt.
I panicked, feeling guilty (cause it certainly looks like I've been snooping) and quickly turned off the toy and dumped it back in the drawer where i had found it before slamming the door shut so hard the desk shook.
"I..." I hurriedly searched my mind, looking for a way to explain myself, "plays...sheet music...your birthday..." I trailed off pathetically.
Kurt was absolutely crimson in the face by this point and looked like he was very seriously considering suicide. He sunk his head into one of his hands for a long moment, looking pained.
"Oh my god." He said finally, "Just leave. Please."
You didn't have to tell me twice. I hopped out of my chair, faster than i had moved in a long time, and made my way up the stairs after clasping him awkwardly on the shoulder which only made him wince and give a little pained moan.
Oh, yeah. I was so never snooping in his drawers again. It never works out well for me.
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A/N- I hope you enjoyed this random little one-shot. This is what happens when you can't sleep, i guess. I just love Burt. *sigh*
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