A/N: I want you to know that it is statistically proven that the lower the drinking age, the earlier people begin to experiment with alcohol; this is partially inspired by a fun lesson my parent taught me at this age and that picture of Chris Colfer from Rolling Stone circa 2008. which can be found at this link: /ld5s9n7 or Google.
I am creating a very strange family dynamic because I want to, there is no reason if I'm perfectly honest.
Time for me to hint at Kurt's parentage and then never bring it up till the next book.
Standard Disclaimer: I do not own any of this...
"I saw him."
"You must be mistaken."
"He has his father's eyes, looked strikingly like mother."
"It couldn't be."
"Yet it was."
"It mustn't be!"
"But so it is, look at this picture."
The dark haired woman looked over the newspaper article, "Mopsus said it, so it must be true."
"Maybe he was bluffing."
"Argyris Mopsus was the greatest seers of the twentieth century, he did not bluff."
"The blind fool must have been wrong."
"That which most shames me, festers within me. He said, so it must be."
"Your whole life you were never superstitious, why so much about this?"
"No man would waste his last breath on a lie."
"But I stand before you with definitive proof."
"Take it away, I don't want to know."
~0~
Several months later…
When Kurt opened the front door, Bomballerina shot into the house and up the stairs whilst his father struggled with his bags, there in the reception area of his home waiting for him were Carole, Finn, Harley and Hermione; he couldn't help but let out a little squeal of joy.
"Oh Honey," Carole hugged him tightly with one arm whilst Harley was straddled on her hip, "You're finally back, I missed you so much."
"Dad and Finn wouldn't let you go to any museums?" Kurt mused while he played with Harley, taking her into his arms.
"Not a single one," she giggled, "Can you imagine? In Paris none the less, you get comfortable and I'll put on a spot of tea."
Kurt nodded before moving on to the next person in line of people waiting to greet him, "Finnocence."
"Don't ever leave me alone with these people again," Finn pleaded as he hugged Kurt, and by extension Harley, tightly.
"Did they keep disappearing to have sex?" Kurt chortled.
"All the time," Finn's mouth hung open but no sound came out, "I think I might just be celibate for life."
"You poor baby," Kurt squeezed his brother's cheek playfully, prompting Harley to do the same, "one more summer."
"I think I'm going to have to start liking museums," Finn looked almost frightened.
Kurt took a step to the left, he looked at his best friend's smiling face, "What are you doing here? Not that I'm not glad to see you but when did you get here?"
"I just got dropped off," Hermione smiled at him, "How was Greenland?"
"Cold and Wet," Kurt smiled broadly, "How was France?"
"Beautiful, we had wine with your parents and grandparents the one day," Hermione had stars in your eyes, "Your Oma is amazing! She's so funny."
"It's the pills and bourbon," Kurt giggled as they lazed down the stairs to the great room, "you had wine, didn't you?"
"Yes, it was phenomenal," she spoke as she looked about in awe, "It was phenomenal, I can understand why Finn is starting a club dedicated to the consumption of alcohol. Why is everything in this house white?"
"It's lovely, isn't it?" Kurt smiled as they entered the great room.
"What is this place?"
"I told you we were excessively rich," Kurt shrugged.
"But why would you need this room?" Hermione looked confused.
"What do you mean 'why would we need this room?'" Kurt was befuddled by the question, "it serves multiple functions; it's where we watch tv, play the Nintendo, eat unimportant meals and such."
"I thought we were having tea in the formal lounge," Carole looked disappointed.
"I just spent eight weeks living outside," Kurt shook his head, "I have to watch The Sound of Music."
Carole's face lit up, "I'll pop it in the VCR-" she stopped halfway to the TV, "Actually, I'm sure the two of you will manage. Give Harley to me, it's time for her nap."
"Thanks Carole," Kurt smiled, glad for her intuition. They watched her disappear before turning to each other with wicked smiles, "I'll be mum, you sit back and tell me about you and Neville; I want details, not that glossed over garbage from your letters."
"Well there really isn't much more to tell," Hermione twirled her hair around her finger due to the lack of an Alice band to fiddle with, "We wrote each other all through the summer and when I got back from France we went for lunch."
"Lunch," Kurt was on the brink of spontaneous combustion as he bounced on the spot, "Like a 'date' lunch or like 'lunch' lunch?"
"Well, it was meant to be a 'date' lunch," Hermione sipped her tea to grow his anticipation, "but like this entire flirtationship, it ended up in limbo; so we decided it was best we stayed friends before we made things awkward for everybody, it's kind of been put on hold till a later time."
"Dating your friends is always a bad idea," Kurt shook his head as he laid a comforting hand on her knee, "it's for the best, I have this theory that if it's meant to be it will happen someday."
Hermione rolled her eyes, "Is this another one of your unhelpful relationship philosophies?"
"No," Kurt snapped back, "It's one of Carole's unhelpful relationship philosophies; but look at her, she's been happily married twice and she's only forty, she must have some idea of how this dating thing works."
"I thought you said your dad was fifty," Hermione raised a curious brow.
"He is," Kurt nodded, "he's fourteen years older than her."
"Hmm," Hermione seemed to give the idea some thought, "Maybe senior boys are the answer."
"I had some time to think about it while I was dancing in the rain," Kurt tilted his head forward with a devilish smile, "Ravenclaw boys."
"What?" Hermione almost spilled her tea on herself as she laughed.
"Hear me out," Kurt held out a pleading hand, "they're intelligent, witty and individualistic; at least in theory they should be."
"I guess it makes sense considering we were both almost Ravenclaws," she put down her tea cup and munched on a mini pastry, "but what about Cedric Diggory?"
"What about him?" Kurt countered defensively, "I will admit it was a great kiss but I didn't promise him my soul, when he decided to date Cho Chang I got bored and moved on with my life."
"Yes but then he kissed you," Hermione pointed out, "doesn't that change anything for you?"
Kurt gave her a queer look, "not really."
"I've never known Kurt to be particularly forgiving," Finn slumped into the seat beside Hermione lazily, "Cedric has quite the struggle ahead of him."
"They're doing it," put his head in his hands, "right?"
Finn nodded, Hermione looked scandalised, "Doing it? Doing What? Surely not-"
"No, they're not having sex," Kurt put her at ease, "They're doing something much worse, they sent Finn to gage our conversation; they want to join us. If we don't send him off my dad'll-"
"Don't mind me," As if on cue his father waltzed in with his pipe and a newspaper under his arm, "just reading the paper."
"They do this all the time," Kurt leaned in close, whispering to Hermione before switching to a loud over the shoulder shout, "you call dibs on a room and it suddenly becomes popular."
"That's nice Kurt," His dad puffed his words, "would either of like to try my pipe?"
"Could you not be normal?" Kurt countered, "Just for today, until Hermione realises we're strange on her own."
"What's not normal about this?" his dad countered
"It's the twentieth century, smoke a cigarette," Kurt raised his voice, "also most dads don't offer to smoke with their teenagers."
"Firstly, the flavour isn't the same," his father laid the newspaper down, Kurt was giving him exactly what he wanted, "Secondly, my dad used to smoke his pipe with me."
"Which is why Oma is on pills and bourbon," Finn countered.
Carole strode in at this point, she'd been listening at the door for a cue, "Poor Susan, her lifestyle choices are none of your business. I envy her, I wish I could sit all day drinking and popping pills."
"Don't we all?" His father sighed a large puff of smoke.
"What do you want for supper sweetheart?" Carole moved into the kitchen.
"Does it matter?" Kurt rolled his eyes, "I'm going to throw it up anyway."
"That's no way to talk to Carole," his father gave him a disapproving look, "I hope you're joking because I pay an arm and a leg for your dentist bills, it would be a shame if you ruined your teeth."
"Now how am I supposed to stay thin?" Kurt was playing his dad.
"You could try laxatives," Carole pointed out.
"There's already enough activity in that area," Kurt countered.
"Now you're just asking for a smack bottom," His father laid the paper flat on the breakfast bar, "That's no way to talk in front of a lady."
"If I was asking for a smack bottom," Kurt was quick on his feet, "I'd have said 'please may I have a smack bottom' but that's not what I said."
"Thank you sweetheart," Carole gave him a small peck on Burt's cheek.
"I meant Hermione," his father countered, "There's nothing ladylike about you."
Kurt turned to Hermione, her jaw was slack, "it's a game we play."
"Carole mentioned in one of her letters that you let Dr Piper go all the way," Kurt smiled.
"You win this round Kurt," His father smiled, "my prostate exam, though traumatic, went well."
"No cancer?" Kurt asked, "Then you might die, it's always the ones who don't have it in this family."
"I'm scared too," his father smirked.
"Enough," Carole raised her hands, "Kurt wins, you're scaring our guest."
"We let you win," Finn smirked.
"That's what you always say," Kurt stuck out his tongue, "How do feel Mione?"
"That was something I don't think I'll ever see again," she nodded slowly, indicating understanding, "This explains so much."
"So what do you want for supper?" Carole leaned in and messed up his hair, "Now you actually look like you've been living outside."
Kurt spoke in a low breathy tone, "I just really want a thick-"
"Watch it," his father didn't look up from his paper as he gave the warning.
"Slice of Chocolate Genoise Sponge," Kurt continued with an eye roll.
"Maybe you should ask our guest," Finn suggested.
Carole's eyes lit up, "Hermione?"
"Oh, well…" Hermione chewed her lip nervously, she looked to Kurt who shook his head, "I'm not picky, I honestly don't mind but I'm sure whatever it is will be delicious."
The doorbell rang, "I'll get it," Carole chimed, "saved by the bell."
As soon as she disappeared Hermione turned to Kurt with fire in her eyes, "What was that about?"
"Carole is a phenomenal baker," Kurt smiled nervously.
"But she can't cook for shit," Finn added where Kurt's words had failed him.
His father cleared his throat, "Language."
"You don't care if we swear," Finn's voice went high, "Or did that change?"
"It's the name of the place we're having dinner," his father continued, "June said it was a lovely indie place, apparently Lawrence and his friends love it."
"We're taking concierge advice from Larry?" Finn let out a grown, "bet you five quid it sucks and we end up at McDonalds."
His father laid his paper down, "I'll take that bet."
Finn smiled wickedly, "It'll probably be like the time we went to Blackpool."
"Not the BnB incident," his father shuddered at the memory.
Hermione giggled, "what's the BnB incident?"
"So Finn's Aunt June offers all us boys tickets to go see a soccer match with her husband Martin and son Larry, right," Kurt began, "I wasn't interested because it meant missing a piano class. Finn and Dad go, Martin drives them out to the coast. He gets shit faced and loses his wallet and with it; the credit card and id he booked the hotel rooms with." Kurt let out a little laugh, "he says he knows a great BnB, they go with him and it looks fine enough-"
"I got an STD from the mattress," Finn cut him off.
"It wasn't an STD," His father corrected, "it was a rash."
"A rash?" Hermione giggled.
"All over his back and bottom," Kurt let out a shrill laugh.
"I had to lay on my stomach for three days with ointment on my back," Finn whined.
His father interjected, "Finn being the exhibitionist he is, chose to do it in here."
"You wouldn't carry me upstairs," Finn countered.
"You're heavy," Burt countered, "I'm old."
"Honestly Burt," Carole added, "How much could a ten year old weigh?"
"He's as big as I am," his father held up his hands defensively.
"Is this the story about how Finn got Herpes?" she asked as she flipped through her cook book.
"Dude, you had herpes?" a deep voice called from behind them, Kurt didn't immediately recognise it but it was familiar.
"It was one time!" Finn shouted defensively.
"Burt," Carole snapped her fingers at him, "would you take Harry's trunk to where he'll be sleeping."
"Harry?" Kurt turned his head suspiciously, "Harry Potter?"
"Who else?" the deep voice mused, Kurt and Hermione turned one-eighty.
"You sound manly," Hermione teased as they ushered him over to join them, "And you grew."
"Hermione, behave," Kurt teased, "What are you doing here?"
"I'm late for the surprise bit," Harry joked, "my life's nemesis is visiting the Dursleys and I mentioned to Aunt Petunia that your dad gave me the whole 'Mi casa, Su casa' speech, so she arranged it."
"We don't mean it when we say it," Finn joked making Harry look uncomfortable as he stood nervously, "We hate people."
"Honey," Carole called out loudly, "What should I cook?"
"You'll wake Harley," Kurt scolded, "How about you bake my cake and then worry about dinner."
"That's excellent idea," she blew him a kiss and got to work weighing out the ingredients.
Kurt pointed to the adjacent two-seater and nudged Finn to join Harry, "So, Voldemort is visiting your family?"
"Voldemort isn't my life's nemesis," Harry chuckled.
"He kind of is," Hermione countered, "he's tried to kill you three times in your short thirteen years of life."
"I understand the confusion," Harry raised his brows, "I meant my Uncle Vernon's… evil sister Marge."
"I though your aunt and uncle were the evil ones?" Hermione raised a quizzical brow.
"Not since last year," Harry gave a strained laugh, "Now they're just crazy."
"In that case we should have them for dinner," Kurt's dad slipped into his seat at the breakfast bar.
"Not in a good way sir," Harry spoke rigidly, "My aunt says Stephen Fry came to her and told her that she, Dudley and Uncle Vernon would go to hell if they treated me badly."
"Stephen Fry?" Hermione looked confused.
"The comedian from that show with Emma Thompson?" Kurt didn't understand.
"Him," Harry nodded, "apparently he's death."
"Oh she is crazy," Carole looked scandalised, "You should tell her to try pills and bourbon."
His father hadn't bothered putting the paper down as he added his two cents, "Would you people leave my mother alone!"
"Oh mom," Finn looked at his bare wrist, "Look at the time and you haven't started on dinner, I guess we're going out."
~0~
Kurt straightened his bowtie in the foyer mirror, he adjusted his hair and stood back to admire himself, "You look stunning."
"You shouldn't talk to yourself," Carole pinched his cheeks.
"No," he smacked her hand away, "I spent ten minutes on my makeup and you're going to smudge it."
"Oh come off it," she joked, Kurt looked her up and down, "What?"
"You don't think you might be underdressed?" Kurt eyed her contempo-casual black dress.
"I'm wearing heels," She offered as though it were an argument that might stand with Kurt, "that's dressed up enough for me."
"You'll fit right in when we end up at McDonalds," Kurt turned to look at himself once more.
"Finn, Harry, Hermione," His dad shouted as he came down the stairs with Harley on his hip, "We'll be late."
"What about what you're wearing?" Carole countered.
"This Cardigan is an Alaïa," Kurt smacked her extended hand away.
Carole shook her head, "No it's not."
"What's an Alaïa?" Hermione asked as she slipped in beside him.
"This really important designer," Kurt smiled and began to fiddle with her hair.
"Alaïa makes women's clothing," Carole corrected.
"Your point being?" Kurt gave her a blank stare.
"Either that's a women's cardigan or you're not wearing an Alaïa."
"Can't it be both?" Harry asked, earning himself a disapproving purse of the lips from Kurt.
"Fashion knows no gender," Kurt said with an elegant shrug.
Carole turned to his father, "Burt, what do you think?"
"Kurt looks fine," He checked his watch, "Finn!"
"Fine?" Kurt looked affronted.
"You look exceptional Ballerina Boy," Burt spoke monotonously, saying everything Kurt had trained him to say, "Who are those pants?"
"Here!" Finn appeared in Jeans and a T-shirt, piquing Kurt's curiosity.
"They're YSL," Kurt eyed his red pants as he was being led out the door and into the back of the large car that was waiting for them. His father told the driver their destination and relaxed, "Do you think he'd play my Celine Dion CD if I asked?"
"Oh," Finn face palmed, "I'd have bought Take That if I'd known we were allowed to request music. Kurt fancies Robbie Williams."
"Finn fancies Pam Anderson," Kurt countered, "At night, if you press your ear to the wall you can hear him whack one off to the Baywatch poster on his wall."
The car was dead silent until Harry decided to break the tension, "Did you guys hear about the escaped convict."
"What was he arrested for?" Hermione asked.
"The news didn't say," Harry shrugged, "they didn't even say where he was incarcerated."
"Sounds like the BBC," Kurt's father shrugged nonchalantly, "when I was growing up on the farm, you kept your ear on the radio and that was the only way you heard was news during the war."
"No you didn't," Kurt countered, "You didn't grow up in Nazi occupied France, you were like two when the war ended."
"Allow me," His father pleaded.
"I doubt people were allowed to keep radios then anyway," Hermione added.
"I think she's right," Finn added, "I'm sure I saw it in a Robin Williams movie."
"These kids won't let me be a war hero," Burt pleaded with Carole.
"If it helps any sir," Harry's voice was small, "you survived the First Wizarding War."
"That doesn't make me feel any better," His father shook his head, "Also, calling me sir is as bad as calling me Albert, might as well stick a fork in my neck."
"Call him Alby," Finn said with falsified seriousness, "Everybody calls him Alby."
"Nobody calls me Alby."
"They call him Al," Carole spoke nonchalantly.
"Neither do they call me Al."
"BurtyBear," Kurt nodded with a smirk.
"That's adorable," Hermione crooned.
"Just Burt," His father let out a staggered breath.
"Burt and Kurt," Harry looked at the pair.
"No," Kurt stopped him before they repeated the talk they'd given to 'Lav and Pav'.
The car stopped, his father paid and they all got out of the car; before them was seediest restaurant Kurt had ever seen but there the name they were looking for was, 'Language'. He felt overdressed for a moment but shrugged it off in stride as they approached, the inside wasn't much better; it was dimly lit and crowded with men in leather.
"Is this a biker bar?" Finn's eye lit up, "Forget McDonalds, I want to stay."
"Not a biker bar," Harry pointed to the sign, "leather bar."
"You must the Hudson-Hummels," the waitress in a revealing leather vest with tattoos up and down her arms said with a look of surprise, "Your table will be ready in a moment, can I seat you at the bar in the meanwhile?"
They followed mindless, none of them talking as they drank their surroundings. They followed their waitress closely, receiving queer looks as their good clothes and youth stuck out like a sore thumb in the sea of leather clad adults.
"My sister recommended this place?" Carole pulled her pashmina closer to herself.
"Apparently Lawrence loves it here," Burt looked confused.
"Larry comes here?" Carole's eyes looked about to fall out of their sockets.
"You're friends of Larry?" the bartender asked them, "First round is on the house, what will it be?"
There was an awkward silence from the young teens, "Go for it," Carole nudged them on, "If we're going to be at a bar, might as well. I, on the other hand, am breast feeding and with a baby; so it's home for me." She kissed them all before stopping in front his father, "You take care of them and bring them all home."
"So what's it going to be?" the bartender asked in a thick Welsh accent.
"I'll have a Guinness," Finn nodded confidently.
"I guess I'll have the same," Harry mumbled.
"I'll have a Martini with as many olives as you can fit in the glass," Kurt nodded confidently, "I think that'll do."
"I'll have a margarita," Hermione smirked at him, "I can't believe this is happening."
"I get the feeling there's a lesson involved," Kurt dusted a non-existent speck from his elbow.
"Look at this place," Hermione gestured to the rest of the bar.
"I know," Kurt knew he looked like a kid in a toy store, intimidated and excited, "we're like adults."
Hermione squealed along with him as they received their drinks, "And all the handsome leather clad men not aside, here's to older boys."
"Look at you Hermione," Harry giggled, "you aren't exactly the embodiment of grown up dressed like that."
Hermione looked down at her A-line skirt dress, "I look like a flower girl at a tacky wedding."
"Nonsense," Kurt waved a dismissive hand, "everybody here's too drunk to care about the fact that you're wearing the casual version of a gymslip."
"Gee, thanks," She rolled her eyes, she turned her attention to Finn and Harry, "How is it?"
"It tastes vile," Finn winced, they looked over to the booth where his dad was sitting, "But we have to pretend to like it or we may never get to do this again."
"I think the more I have the better it tastes," Harry pulled a face, "it might be because my taste buds are dying but it might also be because this stuff is secretly good, the secret is being kept from the drinker."
Kurt and Hermione clinked glasses for luck, they each took a sip of their drinks and Kurt winced, "it tastes like something died in it."
"Mine is salty and lemony," Hermione grinned broadly and triumphantly, "with a peculiar after taste, I'm into it."
"Mr Barman," Kurt took another sip but it didn't taste any better.
"What can I do you for?" He smiled at them.
"Can I have what she's having," Kurt looked down at his glass and shuddered.
Hermione rolled her eyes, "it can't possibly be that bad." She took a sip and her smile fell, "What is this? Water from a lake filled with dead unwashed bodies?"
"Let me have a try," Harry had a sip and shook his head.
Finn had the last of it, "it's vile but it tastes better than this beer."
"That isn't beer mate," the barman placed Kurt's drink in front of him, "it's stout, do you guys have any idea what you're doing?"
"Not the foggiest," Kurt shook his head and took a large sip of his new drink, a definite step up, "I want something that doesn't taste like it has dead bodies in it, sweet and dainty like me."
Hermione put her empty glass on the bar and twirled in her stool, "I concur, we've had wine and liked that."
"And for you two?" the barman laughed Hermione's susceptibility to alcohol, "what would the stout men like?"
"Anything manly," Finn looked pleading as he finished his stout with forced smile, "just no more roasted toenails."
Harry let out a loud belch, "maybe not quite as filling."
"A round of Brandy and Cokes while I mull over the particulars and serve the customers who won't get me arrested," the man smiled and poured their drinks before disappearing.
They all sipped at their drinks slowly in silence before releasing satisfied moans.
"It's like drinking soda," Finn moaned before diving in for more.
Hermione let out a small giggle, "your face is like soda." She hiccupped slightly, "I'm not sure if that's a compliment or an insult."
"Me neither," Finn giggled.
"You guys," Kurt held up a lopsided hand, "are we drunk?"
"it's that dead body water," Finn pointed at Kurt accusingly.
"No," Hermione shook her head, "I read in a history book that it's alcoholism to drink on empty stomach, we didn't eat shit."
"I never eat shit," Harry giggled.
Finn hailed their waitress, ignoring the busy barman, "Can we have the biggest plate of chips you have, keep them coming till we pop."
"I need to pee," Kurt mused as he got up and walked across the bar with less poise than usual but managed his way over to the bathroom without incidence. Kurt got into a stall, sprayed the toilet seat with his hand sanitizer, lined the seat with toilet paper and emptied his bladder. Kurt pulled out a wet wipe and cleaned the area he was going to put his bag on, grateful he hadn't brought his Burkin, and then another to clean the tap before washing and disinfect his hands. Kurt passed Finn and Harry on his way back to the bar, they were obviously heading to the bathroom.
Kurt felt something grab his arm and then he was being twirled, he found himself sitting on the leather clad thigh of a bearded muscular man, "What's a bird like yourself doing alone in a bar like this?"
Kurt eyed his father who was calmly taking off his dinner coat and rolling up the sleeves of his checkered oxford, he turned back to the man and whispered coyly, "I'm not a bird."
"Not a bird, you hear that lads," the man and his friends in the booth guffawed loudly, "Not a bird, what are you?"
"I'm a boy," Kurt gave a small smile.
"A poof?" the man lowered his voice so only Kurt could hear, "You want to suck my cock?"
Kurt wasn't sure whether he was more scandalised by the prejudicial term, the profanity or the obvious hardness he was feeling; he remembered himself and recomposed himself quickly. He leaned in so that just the man could hear him, "You see that man over there? Bald and built like a house?" Kurt pointed to his father, "that's my dad and if you call me a poof again he'll snap your neck. If you speak to me like you just did; he'll chop off your balls and make you eat them, then he'll snap your neck. Are you understanding me?" the man nodded, "Now unhand me."
Kurt grabbed his clutch and sashayed back to the bar, he earned a small thumbs up from his father who could see the man looking shocked by Kurt's words.
"Did you make new friends?" Hermione smiled.
Kurt was shaken, "I think just felt another person's erection."
"This shouldn't be new to you, what with the frequency with which you feel your own?" Hermione joked.
"That's actually really funny," Kurt giggled "but in all seriousness, I always thought I was sexually progressive but I'm very old fashioned."
"You're just now discovering this?" she sipped at her drink and gestured for him to do the same.
"This is good," Kurt took a large gulp and felt the dizziness returning.
"It's an Old Fashioned," Kurt raised a brow and she nodded, "now how exactly are you old fashioned?"
"That one wasn't as funny," Kurt shook his head, "I don't know what I mean or what I want but just not a leather bar."
"You don't have to know," Hermione shrugged, "you're only thirteen."
"Who's thirteen?" Finn asked, him and Harry having returned silently to their seats.
"All of us," Hermione mused, "Kurt was just prepositioned by that bloke over there."
"Who does he think he is?" Harry got to his feet, "That's Ron's Kurt."
"Oh no, not that again," Kurt held the dark haired boy back, "Heel boy, you can't use your wand and that man is five times your size. Alcohol is making you feel like Superman when you're Robin."
"Great use of comic book metaphors," Finn gave him a thumbs up.
"What did you say to him?" Hermione ask, tucking a tuft of hair behind her ear.
"I told him my dad would kill him," Kurt shrugged.
"Which he looked on the verge of doing," Hermione added.
"Am I ever going to live down Ron's fraudulent slip?" Kurt heard himself slur the words, "that doesn't sound right."
"Never," Hermione giggled as she lazily chewed on a chip, forgetting her manners, "if you do forget, we'll be sure to remind you."
"I really want to kiss Cedric again," Kurt slurred before stuffing a handful of chips in his mouth to stop himself talking.
"You kissed Cedric?" Finn was fuming, "Was this before or after the end of Chodric? Wait, does this mean you're Kurdric?"
"No, we're not Kurdric," Kurt countered, "We haven't spoken since, do you think I gave him an erection?"
"Kurt that's my friend!" Finn whined.
"Do you think anybody thinks I'm pretty?" Hermione looked at him with puppy dog eyes.
"I think you're pretty," Kurt laid his head on her shoulder, "even though I hate your hair."
"You don't count but think about it," Hermione moved causing Kurt to almost fall of his barstool, "you have Cedric pinning after you, Ron declaring ownership of you and Goyle stalking you but all I get is 'brightest witch of the age'."
"Neville thinks you're pretty," Harry tried to console her.
"I'm sure plenty of boys think you're the prettiest girl in school," Finn gave a goofy lopsided smile that earned him a giggle.
"You're pretty enough for all the Slytherin girls to hate you," Kurt added taking a large sip of a different drink, "Lavender is also threatened by you."
"That's not that hard to do," Hermione argued with a hiccup, "I want girls like Padma Petil to stay up at night worried about the amount of time I spend with Finn."
"Does Padma like me?" Finn's eyes lit up.
"If I could make Padma jealous," Kurt thought longingly.
"You made Cho jealous enough," Finn waffled with a mouth full of chips.
"Oh I give up," Hermione slumped down on the bar, "my best friend is perfect and I'm the sidekick."
"I work hard at everything," Kurt pointed out, "I put hours of work into my appearance and I'm enough of an enigma to get people interested."
"What about the killing of dark lords and the beating of troll and such?" Hermione countered.
Kurt gave a small laugh, "I learnt how to apply knowledge from you."
"If it makes you feel any better," Harry added with a laugh, "almost everybody thinks Kurt is a bitch."
"I don't understand that," Kurt groaned, "I'm the nicest person I know."
"Excuse us?" Hermione raised a brow, "You don't see us calling people repugnant."
"I called a decent human being in front of all his friends," Kurt countered in a slur, "I'm nice to everybody but most people throw it back in my face. I was nice to Ginny Weasley and ran from me, I was nice to Goyle and he became obsessed with me, I'm nice to Santana and she still calls me Grandma in her letters."
"You're still in contact with her?" Finn asked from where he was slumped on the bar.
"Both of us are," Hermione answered in a tired voice, "I had lunch with her in St Tropez, her boobs are so big."
"Is she still really pretty?" Kurt tried to raise a brow but he couldn't feel his face.
Hermione groaned, "So pretty."
"I still hate her," Kurt bowed his head, for a moment they were quiet and AC/DC hummed in the background, "Do you want to make out?"
"Not really," Hermione shook her head.
"Me neither," Kurt hiccupped loudly, "I just thought it would make you feel better."
"It would cheer me up if you guys let me watch you make out," Finn giggled with a lopsided smile.
"What are you sad about?" Hermione asked him.
"Nothing," Finn shrugged, "I just really want to see you guys kiss."
"Guys, Harry's doing something strange," Kurt held up a silencing finger, "He's making a sound."
They listened and heard faint snoring.
"He's asleep," Hermione cooed gently, "I wish I was asleep."
Kurt turned on his barstool, "Daddy." A sea of faces turned to him, "Oops, him." He pointed to his father who grabbed his stuff and came over.
"Had your fill?" He asked with a small smile.
Kurt nodded and the room started spinning, "Can we have the bill? Give yourself a nice tip on my daddy."
Kurt saw the floor coming closer but thought nothing of it.
Hope you liked it!