Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or its characters. This is written for entertainment purposes only. No money is being made, except by Ryan Murphy. Don't bother suing, I don't own anything worth taking.
A.N.: This story takes place after season two. No aspects of season three appear. Also, I'm not religious and I won't get into a religious argument with anyone. If this bothers you, stay away.
A.N.2: I really, really love Burt Hummel. I wish he was my father.
Getting There
"No friggin' way," Dave swears miserably in dismay, his stomach plummeting as he watches the rollback weave through the parking lot to where he's standing next to his disabled Dakota pickup – the rollback with Hummel Tire & Lube lettered on the side. This is merely the most recent event in a string of bizarre incidences that has happened to convince Dave that the Fates are not only conspiring against him, but determined to screw with his sanity.
Dave watches the wrecker pull to the front of his truck, preparing to winch it up onto the flatbed. The driver hops out brandishing a clipboard and walks over to Dave.
"Mr. Hummel," Dave greets politely with a nod of his head. "Sorry to bring you all the way down here like this."
Burt stops short when he recognizes Dave. "Karofsky, isn't it?" He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a pen. "I'll need to see your Triple A card." Dave passes the card to Burt who verifies the information on it against the paperwork he's brought, and then hands it back. "Sign here," Burt says, pointing at a line on the paper. Dave writes his signature and hands back the pen, avoiding eye contact as much as possible.
Burt tears off one copy and hands it over to Dave before tossing the clipboard back into the cab of the wrecker. Dave watches as Burt turns his attention to the controls mounted on the side of the rollback, raising the front of the flatbed and maneuvering the back edge to the ground in front of Dave's flat tires.
"You got someone coming for you?" Burt asks as he connects the winch cable to the frame of the Dakota. "See, technically, I'm not supposed to transport the customer."
Dave flushes pink, then reaches into his pocket for his cellphone. "Oh. I can, um... call a cab, I guess." He can't recall ever feeling so far out of his element before. What were the chances that he'd need a tow truck while attending a PFFLAG meeting so far from home, and that the auto club would send Hummel's dad? Or the inconceivable concept that he is evidently the victim of homophobia?
The whine of the electric winch cuts through the tense silence as Burt starts to pull Dave's truck onto the flatbed. "Just get in the truck," Burt offers, sighing.
Dave blinks. "You sure?" he questions, surprised by the offer. Burt nods. "Thanks," Dave mumbles, putting his phone away and walking over to the passenger side of the wrecker. He stands awkwardly outside the vehicle, debating whether to let himself in or wait for Mr. Hummel.
"It should be unlocked," Burt calls over, watching as Dave then reaches for the door handle.
The interior is cool and comfortable, a blessed relief after standing beside his vehicle for the past hour waiting in the late day July sun. The meeting was over by seven-thirty and Dave noticed his four flat tires immediately after exiting the building. After calling for road service, he watched as most of the meeting's attendants caught the city bus at the end of the block. A few caught cabs, and some more got into vehicles idling at the curb. No one drove there, he noticed belatedly. The group leader had checked on him as she was leaving, but Dave assured her he had help coming.
Dave watches in the side view mirror as Burt reaches into the Dakota and turns on the four-way flashers before returning to the wrecker cab and climbing in. "You file a police report?"
Dave shakes his head. "No, sir."
"Why's that?" Burt asks, genuinely curious, looking at Dave with a puzzled frown.
"All the evidence points to homophobic vandals, so I'm looking at it as a kind of karmic justice," Dave replies, shrugging.
Burt nods, thoughtful. "Looks like maybe it was two different people; the left tires are destroyed, 'cause the sidewalls are slashed, but it looks like the right sides were punctured through the tread. I can probably fix those if you want." He puts the truck in gear, slowly pulling out of their parking space.
"Yeah, okay. Cool," Dave agrees. "Like I said before, I'm really sorry you had to come all the way down here."
Burt steers the rig out onto the highway before answering. "I wasn't busy, and I gave my crew the weekend off, so when the call came in, I took it." Burt glances over at Dave who sits stiffly in the passenger seat. "Gotta wonder why you'd choose to attend a PFFLAG meeting so far from home, though."
Dave tenses, clears his throat. "Promised Kurt I would, but I don't wanna run into anyone I know." He shrugs again, nonchalant. "He said I need to be educated." He turns his head to look out the side window.
They've got about a half-hour's drive ahead of them. Dave thinks maybe calling a cab might have been a slightly better decision than sitting here next to Kurt's dad while his nerves are jangling so badly.
"I've been to a few meetings with Kurt, now that there's a chapter in Lima. There are a lot of people there who are only there to support their friends or family. You don't have to worry about people getting the wrong idea."
Dave snorts. "Only it wouldn't be the wrong idea," he mumbles, his face heating up. "I'm not ready to come out. Kurt knows that." A glance at Mr. Hummel proves that Dave has shocked him with his admission.
A few tense minutes go by while Dave stews anxiously and Burt works through what he said. "Your parents know?" he finally asks.
Dave shakes his head. "Nobody but Kurt and his boyfriend, 'cause Kurt told him. And Santana. She figured it out on her own, though. I didn't tell her." And that still bothers him, that she could just tell, like somehow it was written all over him. "I don't think they'll be as understanding as you are with Kurt." The truth of the words hurt, but he's had a long time to come to terms with it.
"I could talk to them, you know, if you want," Burt offers. "Not that I have all the answers or anything..."
Dave laughs out a shocked breath. "No offense, Mr. Hummel, but I don't think I'm going through any of the same issues Kurt's had to deal with." He shakes his head again, sighing. "Thanks, but – no."
Burt's frowning, and Dave wonders if maybe he did offend him. But then his face clears as he draws in a deep breath. "Fair enough," he agrees. "Maybe you'd like to explain what you meant, then." It's worded casually, as though to give Dave a chance to take the offense away, but he hears the demand in it anyway.
Dave feels trapped, uneasy. He's being forced to face the things he tries so hard to not think about, and right now he resents Burt Hummel for making him do it. He should've just kept his mouth shut, he realizes too late. His thoughts are reeling and he can't seem to pin any one of them down enough to verbalize it.
Burt recognizes Dave's turmoil and takes the lead. "Give me an example of how you and Kurt are so very different," he suggests.
Dave's tense shoulders relax minutely. All right, he can do that. "Um, okay." He takes a steadying breath. "I'm the only son of an only son in a really pious family. Like, seriously religious. My mom teaches Sunday school and my dad's a deacon. They're both in the choir. I haven't missed a service since I was born. When I had my tonsils out in fifth grade, my parents recorded the service and made me listen to the recording in my hospital room that afternoon." Dave shuts up then, his first and most pressing problem out in the open.
Burt considers his response carefully, Dave realizes. Several times he looks as though he's about to say something, but stays silent. Finally, just when Dave about gives up hoping Mr. Hummel might have some solution, he speaks. "Do you consider yourself religious? Or do you basically go along with it for your parents' sake?"
Dave shrugs. "I dunno. I'd like to think there's some great deity out there that's watching out for my soul. Who knows, right?" He tries to laugh it off, but it comes out choked and pathetic.
Burt gives proper weight to Dave's concern, and his eyes lose focus a little as he remembers something. "I lost faith for a while after Katherine died. Her death hurt me – and Kurt – in ways you can't imagine. Kurt was so little," he says quietly, and Dave can see it, he knew Kurt since grade school. Dave remembers when Kurt came back to school a week after his mom died, how the teacher explained to the class what had happened, and that they should be nice to Kurt and give him his space for a while.
Dave smiles and nods encouragingly when Burt glances over at him. "Anyway, I felt like God had abandoned me and Kurt, you know? So I stopped believing. Stopped going to church for years. With the way I could see Kurt leaning – and even though he only came out to me last year, I knew – I just felt like the church couldn't help me anymore." Burt pauses to collect his thoughts.
"But then, one day I'm out on a tow with one of my employees and I see this banner, looks like a big comma, on the side of the UCC church in town, and I asked him what it was. He didn't know either, but when we got back to the shop, it was lunchtime and we looked it up on the internet.
"Turns out it's this campaign going on about how people shouldn't put a period where God has put a comma, you know? Like He's still speaking to us and we should listen, and it got me thinking about it again. Now, I'm not the most religious guy in the world, but I have a few theories of my own if you'd care to hear them," he says, raising his eyebrows and looking at Dave – for permission, maybe? – before continuing. Dave shrugs and nods.
"See, the way I see it, the bible was written a long time ago, by disciples and kings and apostles and whatever, but they were interpreting what they thought God meant. And who knows, maybe it was what He meant at that time, I'm not gonna argue. But by my way of thinking, the earth was a sparsely populated place way back then, and a lot more babies died than lived, so of course they wanted people to procreate as much as possible. That isn't the case anymore, though. This world is heavily over-populated now, so maybe it's not so important that we marry and have tons of babies to keep the species going. The scientists have been going on and on for decades that we're causing a population explosion and that there won't be enough natural resources to sustain us forever. So maybe it's time for same sex unions to be commonplace and accepted."
Dave just grunts, but Burt can see he's thinking about it. "Doesn't address the problem of continuing the family name, though," Dave finally comments.
"If you were sterile, would your parents love you any less?"
Dave has no answer for that.
"I'm thinking if you were to marry some girl someday and discover you were sterile, your parents would love and accept an adopted child same as if it was their own blood. Happens everyday. And gays are doing exactly that. And look at Kurt's friend Rachel. Her dads got a surrogate to carry for them, according to Kurt, so there's always that option.
"Point is, it's your life, your choice. You just have to decide if you can be happy living the life your parents want for you or not."
A lengthy silence descends, and Burt doesn't continue to push, he waits until Dave's ready to bring up some other issue. They're still a good twenty minutes from Lima, so chances are pretty good, Dave grudgingly admits. He never imagined a scenario where he'd ever have a conversation with Kurt's dad, but it feels strangely normal. He tries to imagine having discussions like this with his own dad, but he can't. He feels a kind of jealousy towards Kurt, for having this open, honest relationship with Mr. Hummel.
Dave spots the football stadium of one of their rival schools as they drive past, and it spurs him to speak. "I'm on the football team," he begins lamely, trying to justify himself and his reluctance.
"Yeah?" Burt answers with a small smile. "So's Finn. So was Kurt, for that matter. Did real well, too.
Won a game for you, as I recall." Dave had forgotten about that, but he can see how proud Mr. Hummel is about it. "I admit I was sorry to see him quit the team, but he joined for me, not for himself. Just 'cause he's good at something doesn't mean he has to do it. I accept that about him. He likes singing, and I love to hear him sing. Finn likes football, so I can root for him, instead. He likes singing, too, but not the same way Kurt does."
Burt's going off-track, and when he realizes it, he stops. "Look, I was on the football team in high school and college. I get where you're coming from, honest. I gotta wonder if you're using it as an excuse, though. I know Finn, and I know some of his friends that are on the team with him. They're not gonna hold your sexuality against you if you ever do own it."
"Finn and me don't hang in the same circles," Dave says. "My best friend is the only guy bigger than me in the school. I'm pretty sure he won't take it well if I come out." It makes him uneasy to say it, but he forces himself to do it. "He's the other bully that picked on Kurt, and even though the bullying has stopped, he still has lots to say about him. If I come out, he'll turn on me too, I just know it. And besides, what's the sense in coming out now? Kurt's the only other gay guy in the school. I'll just make myself a target, and for what? Not like I'm gonna be dating anyone anytime soon." He sounds bitter, he knows he does, but he can't help it.
"You don't know that for sure."
"What?"
"That Kurt's the only other gay guy in school. There could be a few others that are just as scared as you are. If you, the second biggest guy in school, and a jock, comes out, it might be all the encouragement they need to come out as well. I know Kurt's obvious, but there could be others like you, that are hiding themselves so well even Kurt can't spot them." Burt turns curious eyes on Dave. "I never heard from Kurt that there was another gay guy at McKinley. Why is that?"
Dave blushes hard. "He promised he wouldn't out me." And now Dave's really scared of how Mr. Hummel is going to take the news. "I kissed him, once. It was last year, before he transferred to Dalton. Then I got scared he was gonna tell someone. That's when I started threatening him." Dave's really tense now, worried enough that he's sweating even with the air conditioning blowing hard through the vents. "And before you say anything, I want you to know how sorry I am about all that," he blurts out desperately. "It was stupid, I know that now. But I was really terrified that he was gonna tell."
Burt swallows, fighting down some probably harsh words. Dave can see he's gripping the steering wheel pretty tight. After a few calming breaths, he nods his head, short, sharp nods. "Yeah, well, it's water under the bridge now. And you two seem to have worked out some of your problems with each other, so." Burt shakes out his shoulders a little, relaxing some of his tension. "We're not gonna bring it up again."
Dave releases a breath, easing back in the seat. "Thanks." He feels better, somehow. It takes him a few minutes to realize it's because he's apologized to someone he hurt inadvertently. Someone he hadn't even recognized he'd hurt with his actions.
They're passing the farmer's vegetable stand outside Lima city limits, so there's only about ten minutes before this surreal trip is over. Dave doesn't understand why, but for some reason he's reluctant to see the end of this bizarre conversation.
Dave can't think of anything else to say, so he's relieved when Mr. Hummel starts up again. "So are you looking for a football scholarship or something?"
"It would be nice," Dave admits with a smile, "but not really. I'm not that good, and Lima isn't a school that the scouts visit much. I'll probably just take some courses at the community college and pay as I go. I guess I could get a student loan or something."
"It's your senior year. You should start thinking about what you want to do after graduation. I know Kurt has dreams of going to a college for the performing arts somewhere. I don't know how realistic that is, though. I mean, sure he's talented, but what can he do with it? And maybe I shouldn't be talking about this with you, now I think about it." Kurt's dad seems embarrassed, suddenly.
"Yeah, maybe not. But Kurt's really good. I could see him going to Broadway someday," Dave says, but he's frowning, and Burt sees it.
"What?" Burt questions.
Dave shrugs and shakes his head. "Nothing, just hate to see him leave." It's an oddly intimate confession he's suddenly aware he's made.
"Huh. Guess that kiss actually meant something?" Mr. Hummel smirks at Dave knowingly.
Dave stares out the windshield. "Too bad for me, though, right? He's got his prep school boyfriend now." It's ironic to think about it, but if Dave had never tormented Kurt in the first place, he might never have met Blaine Anderson. Dave's stomach twists every time this occurs to him. He wonders how long it will be before Mr. Hummel realizes it. "I really, really screwed up."
Burt chuckles, and Dave knows he figured it out already. "Yeah. But you're young yet. You'll have lots of opportunities to screw up a lot worse," he offers sagely. Dave snorts.
Burt turns the wrecker off of Route 117 onto Harding, crossing under the interstate before picking up Bellefontaine on the other side. There are only minutes left until Dave can escape the confines of what he suspects a confessional must feel like. He's reeling a little from the experience. So far, it's not as bad as he thought it was going to be when he first climbed in the wrecker, though.
They pull up beside Hummel Tire and Lube, to the wide parking lot, to unload Dave's truck. Burt turns off the flashing lights before hopping down out of the cab. Dave gets out as well, feeling useless. He stands out of the way as Burt starts working the controls on the flatbed.
The employee's entrance door opens, emitting Kurt dressed in coveralls, with an engineer's hat protecting his hair and thin brown work gloves sticking out of his pockets. "Hey, Dad. Everything go all right?" He hasn't noticed Dave yet.
Burt glances behind him, smiling. "Yeah, um. I believe you two know each other?" He glances between the two boys, then back at his work.
"David." Kurt's apprehensive, but not unfriendly.
"Hey, Kurt," Dave greets, trying for genial. He sees Kurt's eyes go to the Dakota, a look of alarm in them.
"What happened?" Kurt steps a little closer to get a better look, then makes eye contact with his dad. Burt glances meaningfully at Dave.
Dave coughs, shrugs. "Vandals. Apparently the good citizens of Urbana aren't any more enlightened than the people of Lima. I found my tires slashed when I came out of my first PFFLAG meeting."
Kurt grimaces, understanding. He walks to the front of Dave's truck while pulling on his gloves, reaches underneath to unfasten the cable for his dad, then walks to the driver's door to reach in and turn off the four-way flashers. Burt reels the cable in the rest of the way.
"Kurt, why don't you take Dave here to the office and get him a soda. I'm gonna see what I can do about fixing the right side tires. Maybe you can check the stock and see if we've got a pair of tires for the left side?"
"Sure," Kurt agrees, pulling a notepad and pen out of his breast pocket, then crouching down to copy the information off the sidewall of the tire he's standing beside. He waves Dave to follow him as he heads back into the shop through the employee's door.
They pass through the customer lounge and into the back office where Kurt opens the mini-fridge, offering Dave his choice of the selections. Dave chooses a Pepsi and Kurt grabs a water for himself. Kurt moves behind the desk to the computer and starts typing. He notices Dave hovering awkwardly near the door and waves his hand to indicate the chair on the opposite side of the desk. "You can sit there if you like," he offers. "We're technically closed now, so the air conditioning is off out there in the waiting room."
Dave feels guilty – again – as he sits. "I'm really sorry for putting you guys to so much trouble. I didn't know the auto club was gonna call your dad."
"It's no trouble. Dad and I were just doing inventory since Carole's working the late shift," Kurt explains, smirking slyly. "You saved me from hours of tedious, grimy stock-taking, actually."
"So, what, you work here?" Dave asks, curious. This environment isn't exactly something he ever pictured Kurt comfortable in, but it's obvious he knows what he's doing.
"Since I turned twelve, actually. Dad said I had to help out if I wanted an allowance to buy the things I wanted. My taste isn't cheap, so here I am." Kurt grins at Dave. "Not that the grease and oil isn't murder on my complexion, though."
Dave snorts, shaking his head. "You're not what I thought you were," he says, and right away he realizes how it sounds. "I mean, I never thought you'd be into cars and shit."
Kurt decides not to be offended. "You'd be surprised," he says enigmatically.
Dave lifts an eyebrow. "You mean there's more to you than fashion and singing?" he says, pretending to be doubtful but failing at keeping the smile from his face.
Kurt smiles back. "Lots more." He frowns at the computer screen. "Unfortunately we don't have your tires in stock, but it looks like our local supplier might." He picks up the phone and dials a number, listening patiently to the person rattling off their greeting on the other end. "Hi, this is Kurt Hummel from Hummel Tire and Lube. Could you check your inventory for a pair of tires for me?" As he rattles off the size and style, Dave's impressed with how well Kurt performs his job. Like he's done it for years, which he realizes he has done. When Kurt hangs up, he turns back to Dave. "They do have them, but they're only open for another," he glances up at the clock on the wall, "twenty minutes. Wanna come with me?"
Dave nods and stands, following Kurt back out to the shop where Burt is dismounting his tires. "We don't have them, Dad," Kurt calls out, "but Firestone does, so we're gonna take off. We'll be back in a few minutes."
"Alright, kiddo. Be careful," Burt answers, glancing over his shoulder. The blast of air from the tire machine swallows Kurt's response as they head out the door.
Dave's shocked when they walk out to Kurt's vehicle. "Whoa! A Navigator? This is your car?"
Kurt rolls his eyes. "Yeah, it's not that big a deal. One of my dad's customers sold it to us cheap after his wife fell and broke her hip and couldn't climb up into it any longer. The dealership wasn't giving them much for trade because of the economy and this thing's a gas gluzzer." Kurt disarms the alarm, unlocks the doors, and they climb in. "Finn and I usually car pool in his truck to save money unless he has football practice after school. And as long as we use it at least half the time for work, Dad can claim it as a deduction on his taxes."
Dave watches Kurt adjust the mirrors and seat before turning the ignition key. An easy-listening station comes on the radio, which Kurt immediately changes to a contemporary station. "Sorry," he says, grimacing, "my dad's a fan of that genre, but it makes me want to poke my own eardrums out."
Dave laughs, nodding. "My parents listen to country or gospel. I know exactly what you mean."
They're quiet as Kurt steers out onto West Elm, heading out of town in the opposite direction from where he came in with Burt earlier. It's odd, but Dave feels more comfortable with Kurt in the close confines of this car than he's ever really felt with anyone for a very long time. He supposes it has to do with not having to hide his true self from Kurt, and if he's honest, he was beginning to feel that same ease toward the end of his surreal ride with Burt earlier, too.
Kurt glances over when the silence goes on, sees the introspection clearly going on in Dave's head.
"Hey," he questions quietly. "You okay?" He signals to turn right at the light up ahead, pulling his gaze from Dave's face. It may be longer, taking this route, but Kurt knows it's quicker if you stay at the speed limit so you hit all the green lights, and they have a tight time constraint.
Dave looks over, smiling faintly. "Yeah." He rubs his face with both palms as though trying to wake up, groans. "This whole day's been really whack, that's all. My parents woke up this morning and decided out of the blue they were gonna go to this holy-roller revival out at the reservoir." He shakes his head. "And that's not even the weird part."
Kurt's eyebrows have climbed his forehead, he knows it, but he can't seem to relax them for some reason. Dave laughs at his expression.
"I know, right?" he snorts. "Usually, they try to pressure me into going, too." He frowns. "Maybe they've given up on me," he finishes softly.
"I doubt that," Kurt replies. "Maybe they just wanted to let you be a teenage boy? You know, take a day for yourself to just hang or whatever."
Dave shrugs. "Maybe." As they pass the mall he sees the banner announcing the grand opening of the new Game Stop that relocated from the other end of town. "Your dad's really cool."
Kurt smiles, because it's true. "I'm really lucky," he agrees. "Your dad seems nice. I've met him twice and both times he was really nice to me."
Dave doesn't know where to go with this conversation, so he lets it drop with a noncommittal nod. He loves his parents, but he knows they're not the most tolerant people. He doesn't want to disappoint them, but he knows coming out to them will probably be the hardest thing he'll ever need to do.
The clock on the dash shows they've got just under ten minutes to spare when they pull into the Firestone store's parking lot. Kurt pulls the Navigator up to the front close to the door and puts it in park. "I'll run in and sign the slip if you want to open up the back for me?"
Dave nods and releases his seat belt as Kurt jumps out and jogs into the store. Dave gets out and walks to the back of the vehicle, popping open the cargo compartment. He leans against the tailgate and waits for Kurt to come back out of the store. When he looks back again, Kurt's rolling both tires out while walking nearly upright between them. It takes him no effort at all to maneuver them over to where Dave's waiting, and Dave can't help but admire him just a little. Kurt stops them rolling, letting one lean against his knee as he grabs the other and hoists it into the back of the truck. Dave grabs the other one and lifts it in to rest against the first. Kurt pulls off his thin work gloves and stuffs them into his pockets.
"Have you eaten, yet? I was thinking about picking up some burgers on the way back since it'll be a while until your truck's ready," Kurt explains, "and since Carole's working, Dad and I are on our own for supper."
"Yeah, sure. That sounds great." And it really does. He hasn't thought about it, but he realizes he's practically starving. "It's my treat, though, okay? You guys would be home by now if it wasn't for me."
They hit the Wendy's drive-through so Kurt can get Burt a somewhat healthy sandwich and a baked potato. He doesn't argue when Dave pulls out his wallet.
When they pull in to the shop, Kurt spies Finn's truck in the lot. "Crap," he mutters.
Dave jerks his head around, looking to where Kurt's focused. "What?"
"Finn's here." Dave doesn't know why, but Kurt's frowning.
"So?"
Kurt sighs. "Did you ever see The Miracle Worker? The movie about Helen Keller?"
Dave shrugs. "Probably."
"When Helen Keller is a little girl, she walks around the table picking food off everyone's plates. That's Finn." Dave laughs uproariously until he sees Kurt glaring at him. "It isn't funny, David."
Dave tries to school his face, but it's no good. He bursts out laughing again. Kurt narrows his eyes and purses his lips, trying to remain stern, but he eventually loses the battle and joins in with Dave's amusement. They're still red-faced and chuckling when they come through the door bearing tires and Wendy's take-out bags.
"Dave treated!" Kurt yells out, trying to catch Burt's attention and deflect whatever derision is bound to come out of Finn's mouth all at once. "We picked up Wendy's on the way back."
Finn's mouth is hanging open and Kurt angles in his direction with the tires. "Later, Finn," he hisses quietly, making eye contact and glaring for all he's worth. Finn crosses his arms and flushes, but gives Kurt a reluctant nod.
Dave comes up hesitantly. "Hey, Finn," he says, with that typical teenage boy head-nod. He can't remember the last time he actually called Hudson by his first name. Probably junior high. He waves the bags at Burt who points to the work bench for Dave to set them down.
Finn briefly unfolds one arm to give a feeble wave. "Hey." He avoids eye contact, feeling utterly in the dark.
"Finn, come help me get sodas from the back," Kurt directs, pulling Finn out of the room by his sleeve. They barely get into the office before he turns on Kurt.
"What the actual fuck, Kurt?"
"Keep it down, will you!" Kurt whispers. Sighs. "When he came out of the PFFLAG meeting he went to in Urbana., he found all his tires slashed. Triple A sent Dad out, and we had to run to Firestone to get him some replacements."
Finn stands gaping and frowning at Kurt, processing what he said. "Wait. Karofsky's gay?"
"Did I say that?" Kurt shakes his head. "No, I didn't. He went to a meeting because I asked him to." Kurt hands him a couple of soda cans, grabs a few more, and pushes the fridge door shut with his hip. "Come on."
Kurt sets the sodas down and grabs paper towels from the dispenser to lay out on the work bench before he opens the bags and starts handing out the food. Finn hovers nearby in case there's any escaped bagfries to be had.
"Didn't you eat at Rachel's?" Kurt asks.
"Quinn's. Yeah." Kurt rolls his eyes, then hands him the Frosty he was going to splurge on. "Thanks."
"Yeah, well, I really didn't need the extra calories, anyhow," Kurt grudgingly allows. "Watch out for the brain freeze," he adds, watching Finn suck down nearly half of the drink all at once.
"Gaahhh!" Finn yells, pressing his palm against his forehead as Kurt smirks at him.
Burt chuckles at the two boys, shaking his head. He turns to Dave. "The one tire is fixed. I'm just waiting for the glue to set on the other one and I can put 'em back on the rims again. I'll put the two new ones on the back so you get good traction come winter."
"Okay. Thanks," Dave answers. He starts eating his burger, trying to ignore his apprehension at Finn's presence.
"You get your homework done, Finn? You know your mom's gonna ask me when she gets home tonight, and she said it had to be finished before you two head out to King's Island tomorrow," Burt says, pulling the plastic lid off his baked potato and squeezing the sour cream packet over it. Finn had to retake algebra in summer school to pass into his final year, and although it's humiliating, Finn shakes off his unease with just a slight blush and a glance at Dave who doesn't even seem to have heard. Or is pretending not to.
Finn nods. "Yeah, most of it. I have six problems left that I wanted Kurt to help me with, though. That's why I came down here, actually."
"You know algebra's not my best subject," Kurt complains, stuffing a couple french fries in his mouth.
"You got better grades in it than I did, though. Come on, Kurt," Finn begs, pouting. He reaches over and snags a half dozen fries from Kurt's container and Kurt smacks his hand.
Dave clears his throat. "I can help you, if you want. It was my best subject." He meets Kurt's glance and shrugs. Kurt smiles at him.
"Great! Then I can help Dad with the tires."
Before long they've decimated the bags of food with Finn's help, and Finn and Dave take Finn's algebra homework into the office where they can sit at a desk. Finn shuts the door.
"So, are you gay?" Finn asks bluntly. "Kurt would say I have to be nice and supportive or whatever, but I'm not getting how you could be such a prick to Kurt that he had to leave McKinley because of it. So explain it to me."
Dave tenses, he can feel his face getting hot, realizing Kurt must have filled Finn in about the PFFLAG meeting. "I didn't want anyone to know, all right? I know how the guys on the team are gonna be about it, and I'm not ready to come out at school."
"Kurt knew?"
"He– . Yeah, Kurt knew. He came after me after I pushed him. Confronted me in the locker room, and I kissed him," Dave admits. He can feel the heat still in his face, and his voice is breaking. "Please don't tell anyone, all right?" He's tearing up now, dammit.
Finn nods. " Yeah, sure." He pauses. "So, what, you like Kurt?" Dave doesn't answer. "Cause he's like kind of a bitch, just so you know."
Dave snorts wetly, chuckles. "Yeah, I noticed," he says, nodding. He takes a deep breath. "So. Algebra."
Finn groans and digs his book out of his backpack. By the time they're finished, they've hashed out the Rachel/Jesse/Quinn/Puck dynamic and touched on the Blaine aspect, and Kurt and Burt are tightening the lug nuts on Dave's truck.
Dave walks up to Burt, pulling out his wallet. "Do you take Visa, Mr. Hummel?"
"Yeah, I do. I'll make an invoice on Monday, though, 'cause I'm too tired right now. Stop by the shop next week and we'll settle up," Burt says, wiping his hands on a shop rag.
Burt backs Dave's truck out of the shop, puts it in park and gets out, leaving it running. "Think about what I said," he says quietly as Dave passes him to get in the truck. "If you do come out to your parents, and they want to talk to someone, tell them to give me a call." Dave nods and Burt turns and heads back into the shop, pressing the button to lower the door. Dave catches Kurt's small smile and smiles back.
He doesn't have it all figured out yet. Or any of it, really. But he's getting there.