The Sheriff arrives home to find two teenage boys curled up on the couch with tear-stained cheeks and the last melted remnants of the peanut butter ice cream (the one he doesn't like, which is the only reason Stiles will even keep it in the house) on the coffee table in front of them. Stiles turns from his spot on the couch and greets his dad with a quiet, "hey."
"Hey kid," his dad says, walking over to the couch. He nods questioningly towards Kurt who is tucked into a ball and dozing against the arm of the sofa.
Stiles looks over at the sleeping boy and doesn't quite manage to keep the affectionate smile off his face. "I think it was kind of a rough day for him." Stiles doesn't say anything more about it knowing that his father, as sheriff, would jump into action at the mention of some of the things Stiles knows have happened to Kurt. (Truthfully, that almost makes him want to tell his dad all about it, but he hasn't actually seen anything first hand, nor is Stiles certain it's his place to say anything at all.)
His dad makes a gesture towards the kitchen and Stiles knows well enough to follow so they can talk without disturbing Kurt. "So who is he?"
"Kurt Hummel."
"The mechanic's kid, right?" Stiles bobs his head in confirmation. "Nice guy, Burt Hummel. I've been called over there a few times to do reports on minor property damage and the like; lawn furniture being nailed to the roof, that sort of thing." Stiles hates hearing that. He hates knowing that people not only harass Kurt in the halls at school (which is more than bad enough) but that they also make attacks on his home – the one place where he should be able to feel safe no matter what. Because there's no way it isn't the same people.
"Um, when was the last time something like that happened?" Stiles asks, trying to sound nonchalant even as he feels his throat getting tight.
His dad thinks on it for a few moments before answering. "A little under a year, I'd say. We never caught the guys, so I guess whoever was doing it finally smartened up." Stiles aches with sadness, because he knowsbeyond a doubt that it isn't that the guys smartened up, it's that Kurt somehow convinced them to stop doing things to him that he couldn't hide from his father.
Stiles may worry about his dad, may be willing to take an awful lot on his own shoulders in order to lighten the burden on his father's, but Kurt's willingness to take abuse – actual physical abuse – to shield his dad from the worry and the pain of it is well beyond anything Stiles has ever imagined.
Stiles sees his dad watching him closely when he looks up, and he knows his worry must read clearly on his face. It looks like his dad is about to ask something, but then his eyes shift just over Stiles's shoulder and Stiles knows Kurt must have come in effectively stopping whatever words were coming.
Kurt looks sleepy and disoriented, drowsiness softening his sharp edges and making him appear vulnerable and young in a way Stiles hasn't seen before. Stiles smiles at him, just slightly too tense for it to look anything but forced though Kurt doesn't seem to notice the stress, waving Kurt forward before turning back to his dad.
"Kurt, this is my dad, Sheriff Stilinski," Stiles introduces.
Kurt steps forward, holds out a hand and says, "It's nice to meet you, Sheriff." Stiles watches his dad shake the proffered hand, looking slightly startled at the formality of Kurt's handshake and tone.
Kurt steps back and turns his head to address Stiles. "I'm sorry for falling asleep like that. I guess I didn't realize how tired I actually was."
"Don't worry about it. Obviously you needed the rest, and besides you looked so peaceful." Kurt blushes at Stiles's words, and Stiles can see his dad looking between the two of them appraisingly.
"Have you boys eaten dinner yet?"
Stiles shakes his head. "I'll whip something up," he tells his dad before turning to Kurt again. "Do you want to stay?" It takes Kurt a moment to respond, and then the boy is nodding his head, and Stiles is giving him an answering grin.
The Sheriff goes to clean up and change out of his uniform, and Stiles gets started on dinner. Kurt calls home to let his dad know he's staying, and then he joins Stiles in the kitchen, wordlessly picking up the spare knife to help prepare dinner. The two of them work in companionable near-silence, chattering occasionally over the kitchen radio playing top-forty hits.
Stiles is chopping onion to add to the stir fry, hardly even aware of the music in the background until Kurt starts singing along. It's just a Lady Gaga song, one Stiles has heard a hundred times, but it has never once sounded like this before. Kurt isn't singing loudly, but his voice is high and clear, and Stiles stops chopping to stare, open-mouthed and stunned. He knew, theoretically, that Kurt could sing. But knowing that Kurt is in glee club and actually hearing him sing right there in Stiles's kitchen are two very different things.
After a few more bars Kurt seems to realize that Stiles is watching him. He turns, face lit with a blush, to look at Stiles, who is still gaping at him. Kurt ducks his head in the way Stiles is beginning to recognize as the way he does when he is embarrassed.
"God, Kurt," Stiles says, unable to find more words. Kurt's blush intensifies and he flicks his eyes up to watch Stiles. The silence stretches between them until Stiles pulls his thoughts together. "I didn't know you could sing like that." Kurt shrugs; noncommittal. "You're amazing," Stiles tells him. The words kind of fall from him without thought, but even if he's slightly embarrassed by having said them the shift on Kurt's face – just a little bit brighter and more comfortable – is completely worth it.
There's another long moment where neither of them speak, and then Kurt turns back to cutting up vegetables, and they fall into a rhythm of chopping in time to the music, giggling as they do.
Dinner passes relatively easily, though it is clear to Stiles that Kurt is less comfortable with his dad than he is with Stiles. Kurt answers questions and participates in the conversation, but he's a little reserved, and Stiles can tell how carefully he's choosing his words. Just the same, it's nice – really nice – to have someone new to share dinner with, because so often it's just Stiles and his dad (and that's usually enough, but sometimes it still feels like someone is missing).
It's late by the time they're clearing up the dishes. Kurt calls his dad to come pick him up and they finish putting dishes away while they wait. When Mr. Hummel arrives, it's the Sheriff who answers the door, and by the time Kurt and Stiles make it to the entryway from the kitchen, the two men are chatting amiably like old friends catching up after time apart. Stiles finds it almost disconcerting how well the two men get on, and he wonders for a moment just how many times his dad got called over to the Hummel house to do reports on one incident or another.
Stiles introduces himself to Mr. Hummel; shakes his hand and tries to make a good impression. The man looks gruff, but there's something almost comforting about him (Stiles thinks it might be the similarities he can see between Mr. Hummel and his own father). That sense of comfort is only enhanced when Mr. Hummel huffs and then tells Stiles to call him Burt; a definite amused sparkle in his eyes.
Stiles backs off again after that, letting the older men talk while Kurt collects his things. Stiles can't help but watch him; enjoying the contented little smile on Kurt's face, and the grace he possesses even when slipping on his jacket.
Stiles doesn't miss the slight twinge of Kurt's features when he moves his left arm back to hook into a sleeve, even though their dads both seem to. He doesn't know how he missed it before.
When Kurt is ready to go he looks up at Stiles, a shy tilt to his smile. Kurt may look a little shy all of a sudden, but he's smiling, and Stiles thinks it's pretty awesome how much he's seen Kurt smile over the course of the evening. But now they're facing one another – looking like a pair of shy kids, scuffing their toes on the floor and hiding glances under lowered lashes – and all of a sudden there's a kind of tension between them. It almost feels like it's the end of a date, and neither of them is certain if they should kiss goodnight.
Except they aren't on a date. And their dads are standing a few feet away, so it wouldn't be appropriate anyway. But Stiles doesn't really want to just say goodnight and not at least include something a little more … meaningful. He almost steps forward to hug Kurt, but as much fun as they've had, they still don't know each other that well, and Stiles isn't certain Kurt wouldn't shy away (or worse).
Stiles is saved from his own thoughts by Burt's voice asking, "You about ready to go, kiddo?" Kurt's eyes flicker away from Stiles, and he nods to his father.
"So, um, I'll see you at school tomorrow?" Kurt asks, inflection sounding like he doesn't expect Stiles to say yes.
"Of course," Stiles replies, smiling at Kurt, and he's gratified to see the hint of a blush on the other boy's cheeks.
"Okay." Kurt steps towards the door before turning back, bottom lip caught between his teeth and a look of uncertainty painted across his features before he schools them. "We should have another movie night soon. It was fun."
A full-fledged grin breaks out across Stiles's face. "Yeah, it was!" he says with perhaps too much enthusiasm. Stiles is bouncing a little on his toes, excited now that Kurt has confirmed some desire to hang out again.
Kurt shakes his head with a quiet laugh. "Goodnight, Stiles," he says. And then he finally turns once again towards the door and follows his dad out into the cool of the night.