Sammy and the Hudmel Brothers

It was late, and the whole club was tired after the return flight to Ohio.

No one was happy to be back in Lima, but they couldn't deny they were happy to be sleeping in their own beds again.

Unfortunately, there were two boys who were more hyped up than exhausted. And both of those boys lived in the Hudmel house. And right now, Kurt hated them.

"Can't we just go to sleep?" he begged, as Sam and Finn dragged him through the door and straight into the kitchen. "We have to go back to school tomorrow."

His whining was pointless.

"No way, man! We should stay up all night and party!" Finn responded.

Sam's smile was enormous. "Totally. Dude, we won Nationals!"

"I know," Kurt huffed. "You've only repeated it eight-thousand times since it was announced. And don't call me 'dude'." By this point, he only tacked the reprimand on out of habit.

He slumped on one of the kitchen stools, letting his head drop onto the countertop. "Can I go to bed?" he mumbled angrily.

"Nope!" The denial came from Finn as he scrounged through the freezer, finally pulling out a carton of Ben & Jerry's. Sam, meanwhile, was raiding the cupboards for chips, candy and snacks.

Once their arms were full, they rushed back out to the living room and spread everything out on the coffee table. It was only then that they noticed Kurt hadn't joined them. Sharing a glance, they hurried back into the kitchen, both grabbing one of the thin boy's arms, and hoisting him off his seat before towing him out onto the couch.

"I hate you both," he grumbled. "If Dad and Carol were here-"

The bigger boys laughed. "But their not! They're off at that politics convention thing." Finn crowed. "Besides, we're like, adult and stuff. If we wanna stay up, they can't really make us go to bed."

Sam nodded, but said nothing, as his mouth was currently crammed full of Doritoes.

Groaning, Kurt flopped back against the couch. He gave up on completing his full skin regime and finally decided there was no help for it. He was too drained to correctly pull off a Diva!fit, and nothing else would get through to his two idiot housemates. So he shifted until he was comfortable (or as comfortable as he could get between two yelling and excited, fully grown teen boys) and let his eyes fall shut.

…

It was past two a.m. when Sam noticed a strange noise. He could barely hear it, with how loud they were playing Call of Duty, but it sounded- bad. So he paused the game. When Finn protested, he shushed him and kept listening.

The noise came again, and this time it was clear where it originated: Kurt.

Tiny whimpers and sounds of fear were whispering out between the pale boy's lips. Finn and Sam stared at Kurt, then each other, before shooting forward to shake the countertenor awake.

He started moving, then, shaking and flinching away from their touch, before waking with a scared cry. His eyes were huge and grey and dazed, and he was pulling back to curl in on himself as soon as he saw two hulking boys in letterman jackets leaning over him. Then the words reached him.

"Kurt, dude, are you okay?"

"Are you awake, Kurt?"

"What the hell kind of dream was that?"

"What do we do? How do we make it better, man?"

"Kurt?"

"Kurt?"

Sam. And Finn. Not Azimio or Karofsky or any of the other jocks that still haunted his dreams. These two were like brothers to him. Technically, Finn was his brother, and Sam had slid right into the same niche. Slowly, he forced his back to straighten and his limbs to stretch back out. "Sorry," he said simply, trying to keep his voice even. "Bad dream, that's all. I'll be fine."

"Maybe," Finn replied, cryptically. "And maybe not. We're all gonna go to sleep now, okay, dude?"

Kurt shook his head and stood. "That sounds perfect. I suppose I'll head upstairs." Then he took in the mess the boys had made of the room and sighed. "After I clean up in here."

"Nuh-uh," Sam cut in immediately. He reached out and grasped Kurt's hand, pulling him away from the chaos and towards the stairs. "Bed, man. All of us. Right now."

Rolling his eyes when Finn darted around the couch to hold Kurt's other hand and they made their way up in a strange line, Kurt nodded. "Fine. Bed."

When they reached his room, he pulled back his hands and smiled wearily at the pair. "Goodnight, Finn. Goodnight, Sam."

He pushed open the door and started to close it behind him, only for Finn to reach out and stop him. "Woah, dude. Not so fast."

Raising an eyebrow in confusion, Kur watched, puzzled, as they followed him in. It was when they started pulling off their pants that he stumbled back, staring. "Wha- What do you think you're doing?"

"Bed," Finn shrugged.

"Yeah, man. Hurry and change, 'kay? 'Cause I'm beat," Sam added.

Shirts and boxers stayed on, but the pair both flopped down onto Kurt's giant bed.

"I'll just- go sleep in your room, then, Finn," Kurt started to say. In seconds, the biggers boys were hopping back up, stripping Kurt of everything but his boxers and tank-shirt, before pulling him down to join them.

He tried to protest, and struggled to get back up and out, but they were positioned on either side to wrap their arms around him and pulled up the blankets. Finally giving up, too sleepy to fight them anymore, he scooted around until he was warm and relaxed, then let himself sleep.

…

The next morning, Burt and Carol snuck into the house just before dawn. They took in the food and wrappers, along with a half-melted bucket of ice cream, that were scattered around the front room, and Burt snorted, before starting to pick up.

Carol left her suitcase by the door, deciding she would have Finn lug it up the stairs after school rather than carry it herself, then headed up towards the master bedroom.

Pausing to peek into Kurt's room, planning to check in at Finn's and Sam's next, she stopped and stared, then smiled.

All three of her boys were cuddled together, like innocent little kids, in Kurt's queen-sized bed. The countertenor was in the middle on his back, and the other two were facing inward, heads on the pillows either side of Kurt, and their arms were all curled together and around one another.

It was adorable.

Burt joined her and started to speak, but she held a finger to her lips and hurried to their room to get the camera. She slipped inside and took a series of shots of the three boys, then scrolled back through them, a sweet grin on her face.

Quietly shutting the door, she led Burt towards the master bedroom and winked. "We'll keep the pictures for the memories."

Burt's frown remained.

"Also," she added thoughtfully. "For the blackmail potential."

That surprised a laugh out of the man, who pressed a kiss to her lips. "I knew I married the right woman."

End.