A/N: Sebastian absolutely fails at putting together his son's bike. With zero time left to fix anything and his sex life at stake, he's forced to call in a professional.

Written for the Hummel Holidays prompts 'family' and 'Christmas', and focusing more on Sebastian's relationship with his in-laws.

Written for freakingpotter, as this was entirely, 100% her fault xD

"Stick tab A into slot B…What the fuck! What slot B? There's no slot B!"

"Attach part 3a to 3b using one of the thirteen medium screws…but don't tighten…Jesus Christ! Now you tell me!"

"For parts 22a and 22b, do not tighten screw and nut too far or you risk bending the metal…merde! Merde, merde, merde, merde, MERDE!"

Sebastian sits on the living room floor a failure, his son's bike in thirteen pieces scattered around him like the broken remains of some viper red metallic zombie horde. The parts he had managed to screw together form the skeleton of an aluminum beast, and after a fifty-third read thru of the instructions (in French, since the English side makes even less sense) he discovers that he did the middle half in reverse somehow.

If Sebastian Smythe was ever a man to break down and cry over anything, this would definitely be the time.

No. He has to keep his head. He has to come up with a plan. There's never been anything in his life he hasn't been able to talk or buy himself out of. One of those two methods had to apply here. He pulls his iPhone out of his pocket and checks the time. It's 4:45 a.m. on Christmas morning, so buying another new bike might be possible, if he's willing to go to (shudder) Walmart. But this bicycle…Thomas picked this one out special. Sure, he might not care in the long run. He might just love whatever bike he gets because it's a bike and he's been talking about getting one non-stop for months.

But Kurt will know. Kurt will know it's not the same one that he himself ordered.

And Sebastian will never live it down.

Oh, why did he not let Kurt pay extra to have it assembled? Why in hell did he think he needed the 'dad experience' of putting together a bicycle on Christmas Eve? What did he think this was, a Hallmark Christmas special? This was real life, and in real life, as talented as Sebastian is with his hands, putting things together that require more tools than a flat-head screwdriver are a little beyond his scope.

It's time he called in…a professional.

But first, he has to buy himself some time.

He turns the alarms off. He hides Kurt's phone. He closes the black-out curtains tight in all the rooms. He sends a very important text message.

Then he sits in the living room and waits.

At six a.m., a half-dead asleep Sebastian raises his heavy head at the sound of a Ram pickup pulling up outside the house. Sebastian stands slowly, on his guard for any sound – the patter of excited feet racing toward the living room, his husband lumbering into the kitchen to start the coffee machine, but there's nothing. Sebastian's attempts to keep the house quiet and dark are working in his favor. Excellent. He's safe…for now. If he can answer the door before…shit! Sebastian hops to his feet, his left leg stinging, numb from being folded underneath his body for the past few hours. It doesn't want to move, or hold much of his weight, so he drags it to the side as he hobbles quickly for the door, catching it before the people coming up the walk, whispering urgently, have a chance to ring the bell.

"Sebastian!" Carole yelps when he yanks open the door. "Wha-what's going on? Oh my God!" She takes in his appearance – his wrinkled sweatpants and t-shirt, his hair sticking up and out in all directions, the bags under his eyes a violent shade of purple. "You look awful, honey! You said you had a problem and it was important…"

"Yeah," Sebastian mutters. "Yeah, I do…hi…" He opens his arms to his mother-in-law, ushering her into the warmth of the house, along with the man he hopes will save the day. He doesn't have time for pleasantries. He simply jumps to the chase. "Help me, dad?" he begs, giving Burt a quick hug. "Please? Help me?"

"Why?" Burt asks, looking concerned. "What did you do this time?"

"Well, I…wait…this time?" Sebastian has a moment of clarity, long enough to look offended, but with a tired Burt staring him down and the realization that he probably deserved that one, he drops it and continues. "I was supposed to put Thomas's big Christmas present together, but I think I really fu- uh, screwed up."

Sebastian steps aside and reveals the monstrosity. Carole gasps into chuckles. Burt tilts his head, walking around and examining it from all angles.

"What's it supposed to be?" he asks.

"Oh God." Sebastian drops his head back and covers his face with his hands. "I messed it up so bad that you can't tell it's a bike. You! Of all people!"

"Calm down, sweetheart," Carole says. "You're going to give yourself a heart attack."

"I can't," Sebastian groans behind his hands. "There's too much at stake."

"Too much at stake," Carole repeats, confused. "Do you mean…your…marriage?" she asks tentatively. She can't imagine that that was Kurt's ultimatum, especially considering her son and his husband have one of the most stable marriages she's ever seen. Kurt pretty much tells her everything. He never mentioned any fighting, any issues of any kind. He was so excited about today, about having the family together. He even mentioned how in love he was with his insane husband. Could that have been a bit of a black truth? Kurt is usually the dramatic one, but these theatrics from Sebastian…this is too much of a breakdown for there to be anything else on the line.

"Worse," Sebastian mumbles. "If I don't have this bike put together by the time Tom-Tom wakes up…Kurt said he'll never have sex with me again."

"Oh, sweetie," Carole sighs, relieved. She puts a hand on Sebastian's shoulder, fighting back laughter so hard that it's turning into tears. "I think you're overreacting just a tad…"

"No" - Sebastian shakes his head wildly - "no, mom. No, you don't understand. We had a deal. I put together the bike and he'd wrap the rest of the presents. And do you see all the presents?" Sebastian gestures to the stacks of neatly wrapped gifts under the tree. "He's been wrapping them all day."

"Why didn't you guys just pay to get it assembled?" Carole asks.

"Because…I…wanted…to do it," Sebastian admits, sheepishly peeking out from behind his fingers.

Carole almost can't stifle her laughter any longer.

"How's that right hand treating you?" Carole snickers. "I think the two of you are about to become very well acquainted."

"Oh God," Sebastian moans the same time Burt grumbles about not mentioning his sons and sex in the same sentence, especially before he's had his morning coffee.

"If I fix this for you," Burt asks, already lying the bike-thing on its side, "do you promise never to make a comment about your sex life with my son again?"

Sebastian puts his hands on his hips and nods resolutely, but then he shakes his head.

"I won't lie to you, dad," Sebastian says, desperation taking over where snark usually would, but, apparently, it makes little difference. "I can't promise that won't ever happen again. But this isn't about me. It's for Thomas."

Burt blows out a breath, looking from his hopeless son-in-law, over to Carole, trying hard not to cackle out loud and wake the whole household.

"Alright," he relents, taking off his coat, "hand me a wrench. And just…no more talking unless it's about the Buckeyes or the weather."