Hey guys, sorry for the delay in updates, APs and shit and nonsense and life. Whatevs. Happy Mother's day to all! In celebration of my own badass mother, I wanted to celebrate Finn's badass mother (and the badass mother that Kurt used to have). So…enjoy!
Also, PLEASE HELP: I'm asking for some prompts. I'm always coming up with ideas, but they turn into long, drawn-out stories and I just want some short little ficlets for this story, so if you have any furt-y awesome prompts, send 'em yonder! Please and thank you!
Kurt trudged downstairs, vaguely unaware of anything that was going on. It was Sunday, he grasped that much, and it was early, but he was an incredibly light sleeper and someone was making noise in the kitchen. But it was early, and no one in the Hummel-Hudson family ever got up early on the weekends.
As he rounded the corner into the kitchen, Kurt was met by the entertaining and worrying sight of Finn Hudson in an apron trying to cut open an egg with a pair of scissors.
"What the hell are you doing, Finn? It's seven in the morning," Kurt whined, slumping against the counter. Finn turned around, smiling.
"I'm making Mom some breakfast-in-bed!" He exclaimed, holding up the egg. Kurt blinked a couple of times, then yawned.
"Why, might I ask? You can't cook."
Finn's smile faded. "You don't know what day it is, do you?"
Kurt's stomach lurched; how could he have forgotten? All the stores at the mall were having special sales, and Blaine had explained his weekend plans in great detail multiple times the week before.
"Oh, crap," Kurt murmured, closing his eyes. "It's Mother's Day."
Finn bit his lip, grimacing sympathetically. "You know, you can go back to bed if you want. Mom'll understand if you don't want to celebrate."
Kurt swallowed the growing lump in his throat, shaking his head. "Come here," he said, taking the egg from Finn's hand. "This is how you do it."
He broke the egg easily over the frying pan, tossing the shells away. Finn watched gratefully as Kurt scrambled and fried and perfected the eggs in a way only mastered through years of feeding oneself.
"Will you pour out some guava juice? I'll make cinnamon toast." Finn nodded, heading towards the fridge. Kurt pulled out the bread, butter, sugar, and cinnamon, hands working effortlessly to make the meal.
"And after the bread is all hot and toasted, you spread butter a-a-all over it, just like that," Katherine said, holding her little boy's hand as they sloppily spread the margarine onto the toast. Kurt grinned.
"Mama, that's how you make regular toast!" He exclaimed, setting the knife down as they finished. "I thought we were making special toast."
"Oh, we are," Kathy assured him, pulling out the sugar. "First, a little fairy dust." She sprinkled a pinch of sugar onto the toast, then handed her son the rest, letting him finish the task.
"Fairy dust?" He asked excitedly, being careful to layer the sugar perfectly. Katherine nodded.
"Yup. And then some magic powder that your father stole from a sleeping warlock." She shook on some cinnamon, handing the bottle to Kurt. He shook on a liberal amount, grinning.
"Isn't stealing bad, Mama?" He asked, setting the cinnamon down. Kathy nodded.
"Yes, but the warlock was a bad man, and was going to use the powder for evil things, so your daddy stole it so we could make our special toast."
Kurt smiled again. "And our Special Toast is good, because it makes everyone happy!" He cried, picking up a piece to eat. Kathy picked up the other, pecking her son on the nose.
"Yes. Our Special Toast is magical."
"Kurt. Kurt? Kurt!" Kurt looked up, surprised to see Finn standing next to him holding a tray of food. Kurt collected himself, placing his plate of cinnamon toast next to the eggs.
"Are you okay?" Finn asked as Kurt followed him out of the kitchen, and through the living room. Kurt nodded.
"Just…remembering."
Finn seemed to understand. "I'm sorry, man," he whispered, pausing at the bottom of the stairs. "Like I said, you don't have to celebrate with us."
Kurt shook his head again. "No, it's okay. I…I want to."
Finn didn't look convinced, but he said nothing. They climbed the stairs and snuck into the master bedroom, Finn calling out, "Happy Mother's Day!"
Carole and Burt woke groggily, but at the sight of the two boys Carole sat up, beaming happily.
"Oh, boys…this is so nice!" Finn sat the tray down in her lap; Kurt watched as Carole kissed her son's cheek, trying to repress his jealousy.
"Finn…these eggs aren't burned…and the toast has cinnamon on it…Kurt, did you make this?" Kurt looked up to see Carole grinning at him. Finn looked away sheepishly, sitting on the edge of his parents' bed.
"Um, yes. Finn was having some issues when I came downstairs. I offered my assistance." Carole gave him an adoring look, motioning for him to come hug her. He did, and he pecked his cheek like she did with Finn.
"Thank you, sweetie," she whispered, rubbing his back lightly. Kurt bit back tears, a small smile forming on his face.
"It's no problem, really," he said, sitting next to Finn. Burt smiled sleepily at his newly-formed little family, kissing Carole on the cheek.
"Happy Mother's Day," he said, looking to Kurt. They shared a moment, a sad, silent moment of remembrance, and then it was over, and they allowed themselves to enjoy the morning.
"Happy Mother's Day," Kurt whispered, biting his lip. Finn wrapped an arm around his stepbrother's shoulder, leaning his cheek on the top of the boy's head.
And life went on.