With Kurt sick, Sebastian steps up to help Thomas with an arts and crafts project for school, which puts them both in a sticky situation.
Notes: I needed some domesticky floof, so here it is. This actually happened to me once upon a time. xD
"Hey guys," Kurt says softly, attempting to smile even though every inch of his face hurts, his nose so clogged he can barely breathe. He was hit from all sides with every sinus based infection known to man after his last business trip. All he wanted to do was climb in bed, never to be seen until his cold cleared up and he looked vaguely human again. But now that he's home, all he wants is to be with his two best boys … who have been keeping a respectful distance in order to let him rest. And Kurt appreciates that. But the silence in the house has left him uneasy. It's always said that the scariest sound in the world when you have children is silence.
The same can be said for his own son and husband.
But Kurt finds them in the living room, sitting on the sofa, both concentrating hard on something Kurt can't see with his burning, watery eyes. "I've been looking all over for you. I thought you might have gone out somewhere."
"Not a chance," Sebastian says, lifting his gaze to look at his husband wobbling towards them. "We weren't going to leave you home alone in your hour of need."
"That's very chivalrous of you."
"What are you doing out of bed, Papa?" Thomas asks, but with his eyes glued to a piece of material in his lap that he's carefully applying buttons to. "Daddy said we needed to let you sleep for as long as possible."
"I was asleep. But I suddenly remembered that you have a big art project for school due tomorrow that you wanted me to help you with …" Kurt's eyes sweep over the mess on the floor, a cornucopia of Popsicle sticks, fabric scraps, tubes of acrylic paint, buttons and googly eyes "… but it looks like your Daddy may have that covered."
"I knew you might not be up to making puppets, so I decided to help Tom-Tom here," Sebastian explains, beaming up at Kurt with a smile of pure paternal pride.
But as Sebastian isn't exactly the arts and crafts type, Kurt can't help being a little bit wary.
"A-ha. And where did you get the material?"
Sebastian rolls his eyes. He knew this question was coming. "Don't worry. I didn't go rummaging through your craft supplies. I know better than that." In his pained state, Kurt hmphs, but quietly. Sebastian only knows better because he accidentally used a remnant of $300-a-yard silk – a discontinued print that Kurt had squirrelled away from his last fashion show in Milan in the hopes of having it recreated specifically for items in his line - for one of Thomas's previous art projects.
Kurt's dream of recreating that print never came to fruition. But to this day, Hepburn has the snazziest neckerchief ever seen at their local dog park.
"So, what are you using?"
"Some old t-shirts of mine," Sebastian answers.
"And some old socks," Thomas adds. "We found the buttons under my bed. And I got the eyes at school."
"Brilliant." Kurt squints harder at the puppets both his husband and son are constructing on their laps, joining seams with a liquid that should look white, but is instead clear, and leaving an oily spot behind. "Ok, but how are you keeping them together? I can't really see two inches in front of my face, but that doesn't look like Elmer's glue you're using."
"I didn't have enough Elmer's glue for all the puppets," Thomas explains, sitting up so his Papa can get a better look at the six puppets lying on his lap, three on each leg, waiting to be completed.
"We were going to make a run to Michaels," Sebastian says, "but we didn't want to leave you alone. So I improvised."
"With what?"
Sebastian holds up the small blue tube he's been working with and shows it to Kurt. "Super glue."
"Super glue!? You're using Super Glue!?" Kurt looks from Thomas's lap to Sebastian's, layered with almost as many puppets as his son has. "And you're working on your lap!?"
"Yeah …?" Sebastian says, unconcerned.
"Did you put some wax paper underneath? Or maybe a board?" Kurt leans down to get a better look, but stops halfway when the room begins spinning.
"Nah. This was all kind of spur of the moment."
"Sebastian!"
"What?"
"Haven't you ever used Super Glue before?"
"Nope. Why would I? When do I glue anything? I leave that stuff to you. You don't let me fix anything anyway … not after the bicycle incident. Besides, it's just a few puppets. What could possibly go wrong?"
Kurt closes his eyes, the headache he woke up with swiftly turning into a migraine during the course of this conversation. No good thing in the world ever happens after someone utters that particular question. Glue experience or not, his husband should know better. At the very least, he should learn to read directions.
"Uh, Thomas? Honey?"
"Yeah, Papa?"
"Could you stand up for me, please?"
"Sure. Okay," Thomas says, putting down his tube of glue and beginning to move his puppets to the floor.
"Don't move the puppets," Kurt instructs, putting a hand to Thomas's shoulder the best he can while only bending over the tiniest bit. "Just … stand up."
"Oh. Alright." A confused Thomas rises to his feet, but starts giggling once he gets there. Standing upright, he has six puppets adhered to his legs, not budging a hair, even when he begins to jump up and down.
"I have puppet pants!" he cheers, lifting his left leg and giving it a good shake.
"Yes, you do." Kurt sighs. "Come with me, Tom-Tom. We'll scrape the puppets off your pants."
"Are … are we going to hurt them? I put a lot of work into them."
"Not a one," Kurt promises. "And with any luck, we won't put too many holes in your pants, either."
"So, Super Glue puts holes in fabric?" Sebastian asks as Kurt leads their son away to his bedroom.
"No, but peeling the Super Glue off Thomas's pants might. It shouldn't be that big a problem, though. It's not like those are his favorite pants."
"Uh, well, I might have a problem."
"Yeah? And what's that? Are you wearing three-thousand dollar Gucci jeans or something?"
Kurt turns back to his husband, staring up at Kurt with inexplicable anxiety etched into every line of his face. Kurt blinks blurry eyes, trying hard to bring Sebastian's current predicament into focus, and notices that Sebastian has been gluing his puppets down with his legs outstretched.
His bare legs outstretched.
"I'm wearing shorts," Sebastian admits. Kurt watches his husband give one of his puppets a test tug, wincing when he discovers the puppet has adhered completely to his skin.
"Oh boy. Well, I hope you weren't too attached to your leg hair." Kurt waves for his husband to join them, trying his hardest not to laugh at Sebastian's sticky situation. But the sight of his husband standing dejectedly with six Popsicle puppets stuck to his legs almost does Kurt in. "Because you're not going to be in a few minutes."