Kurt stared at his clothes, eyes traveling over the wide variety of choices with dismay. For once in his life, he had no idea what to wear. What was appropriate for an elegant but platonic first (and last) date with a girl he considered more of a comrade than a friend? Especially when that girl would probably kick his ass if he screwed up and failed to show her a good time.
He needed a hetero point of view. Finn was not available, having left an hour ago with Puck and Matt for some kind of weekend baseball fantasy-camp thing that Kurt had had no interest in hearing about. So that left just one choice.
"Dad!" he shouted, having heard the sound of his father's truck pulling in several minutes ago. "Can you come down here, please?"
A minute later, a familiar heavy tread hit the basement steps. Burt Hummel smiled at the sight of his son standing before the closet in blue boxers and a silk v-neck undershirt, glowering darkly at his colorful wardrobe. "Fashion emergency?" he quipped.
"Exactly, and I would really appreciate your help in resolving it."
Surprise flickered over Burt's face. "You know I was only kidding."
Kurt turned to face him. "I wasn't. I have to go on a date tonight and I need the perfect ensemble, but I can't decide what that is."
"Date?" he repeated, helping himself to a seat on Kurt's bed. "That mean some guy asked you out? Well, that . . . that's great. Good for you. Do I know him?"
Kurt had to give his dad high points for trying to sound so casual, especially since he looked like he was about to pass out. "It's not like that. Unfortunately, I still seem to be one of a kind at McKinley High," he admitted, smiling as he pretended like that fact didn't bother him at all. "I sort of asked Santana Lopez out for dinner."
"Who is this girl?"
To Kurt's surprise, his father seemed concerned rather than pleased by the news.
"She's in glee-club and Cheerios with me."
Kurt understood the reaction better when his dad asked, "Did I do something that you're not telling me about here? 'Cause you know you don't have to play sports and date cheerleaders just to make me happy, right? I thought we'd settled all that."
A warm smile blossomed on Kurt's face at those words. He still found it a little disconcerting – in an altogether wonderful way – every time he received proof that his dad truly accepted the fact of his being gay, and loved him just as much as ever, regardless. "I know that, Dad. This isn't like when I was seeing Brittany. Santana did me a big favor yesterday and all she asked for in return was for me to take her out on one perfect date."
"I don't get it," his dad said. "Why does she want to go out with you? I mean, no offense, Kurt. You're a good looking kid. Take after your old man that way. But does she know things aren't gonna get . . . y'know, romantic?"
Kurt smiled at the joke, appreciating his father's effort to keep this conversation light. "She knows I'm gay, Dad. It's okay. I'm not really sure, but I think maybe Santana does want romance. Not the real thing, just the Hallmark card kind. I don't think she gets much of that."
"Not very popular?"
"Uh, no, more like the exact opposite of that. She's kind of a slut."
Burt frowned at his choice of adjective but did not argue it. "So you're gonna be Rock Hudson to her Doris Day, huh?"
Kurt laughed. He had loved watching those sappy old movies on the classic-film channel when he was little. "Exactly." Gesturing expansively toward his open wardrobe, he said, "Which brings me back to my problem. What does Rock wear on his date?"
Giving the matter some honest consideration, Burt stood and perused the dizzying array of choices. Then he reached in and pulled out a garment bag. "I'd go with this."
Kurt blinked. It was the midnight blue suit that his dad had bought him when he'd been asked to be a groomsman at his very-conservative cousin's wedding last year. He had not worn it since. It had been tailored to fit and Kurt knew that it looked good on him, but it was just so very plain. "This?"
Burt reached back into the closet and rummaged. "With this," he suggested, pulling out a beautiful sapphire blue vest that Kurt normally teamed with a black long-sleeved shirt and his gray plaid trousers, with a fedora added just for flair. "I'll loan you a tie. I've got one that will look great with this. Your girl wants the fantasy. You wear this, you're gonna knock her socks off."
He grinned, realizing that his dad was really enjoying this moment. It felt weirdly like playing dress-up, which he had to admit appealed to him, but at the same time it probably soothed that long-abandoned fantasy his father had revealed about having wanted a chance to talk girls with his baby boy. "Thanks, Dad. This is perfect."