A/N This is the summer before their Junior year. Enjoy :)
"Dad, can I talk to you for a moment?"
Asher's voice wavered slightly as he approached his father, a nervous energy emanating from his every movement. Mason looked up from his workout, setting the weights down with a clatter as he focused his attention on his son. He noted the apprehension etched into his son's features, a furrow creasing his brow in concern. Wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, he took a moment to compose himself before nodding in response.
"Sure, tell me what's on your mind."
His son shifted uncomfortably, his gaze fixed intently on the worn sneakers at his feet, as if they held the answers he sought."I'm thinking about quitting football," he confessed quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.
His response was not one of disappointment or anger, but rather one of gentle understanding. "And what would you like to do instead?" he inquired softly, his tone devoid of judgment.
Asher's surprised glance caught him off guard, prompting him to offer reassurance. "Don't look at me like that, Ash. I'm not going to be disappointed if you decide to stop playing football and pursue something else."
"I thought... You were so proud of me when I told you I wanted to play football. I didn't want to... I don't want to disappoint you by not following in your footsteps."
The dark-skinned man placed a comforting hand on his son's shoulder, squeezing it lightly. "You could never disappoint me by deciding that football isn't your path," he reassured him, his voice gentle yet firm. "I'm sorry if I've made you think otherwise. I'm proud of you, and whatever you decide, your mother, your siblings, and I will support you. The whole family, in fact."
"You're the first to know," Asher wrapped his arms around Mason in a tight embrace, a small laugh escaping him, his voice muffled against his father's chest. "But I would like to be a singer like Mom. I know Jay and Ace see it as a hobby, but I would like to dedicate myself to it." he confessed, his voice tinged with a mixture of excitement and apprehension.
"You know that when your mother finds out, she won't stop talking about it, right?" he teased gently, a warm smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "But you'll make a fantastic singer, Ash. You're only fifteen, with your whole life ahead of you. Enjoy every moment of it."
"Do you think he'll ring the doorbell at some point?"
Judy and Russel observed with mild amusement as they watched Isaac pacing back and forth on the porch of their house, muttering to himself in a flurry of nerves.
"Russ, leave the boy alone. He's clearly nervous about something," she scolded her husband lightly, giving him a playful smack on the head before turning her attention back to the window, peeking through the curtain.
"I'm just saying, he should ring the bell. I'm hungry and I want to eat," Her husband grumbled, rubbing the spot where she had struck him. "That's it, I'm going to open the door."
"Russel Fabray, don't you dare," Judy warned sternly, her voice tinged with exasperation, but her words fell on deaf ears as her husband flashed her an impish grin and swung the door open with gusto.
"Isaac, what a pleasant surprise to see you here. Come in, come in," Russel greeted their guest with unabashed enthusiasm, his grin stretching from ear to ear. "You're just in time, Judy's just taken the lasagna out of the oven."
She cringed inwardly, knowing that her husband's lack of subtlety. Their daughter was going to be mortified when she returned home. "Isaac, darling, what a joy," she chimed in, plastering on a warm smile as she moved to greet him with kisses on each cheek. "How's everything?"
"I'm sorry I didn't bring anything, it was a last-minute decision," Isaac apologized with a sheepish grimace as he took a seat at the table, his eyes darting nervously between the couple. "This lasagna smells absolutely delicious, Mrs. Fabray. Aren't we going to wait for... is Quinn here?"
"Please, call me Judy," the blonde woman interjected with a knowing smile, exchanging a glance with her husband. "Quinnie's out with Santana and Britt. She'll be back later."
"So, what brings you all the way from Columbus to Lima?" Russel inquired casually as he served himself a generous portion of lasagna.
Suddenly, Isaac paused mid-meal, his cheeks flushing with nervousness as he carefully set down his cutlery on the table. Swallowing hard, he gathered his courage to speak, his gaze fixed earnestly on the Fabray couple seated before him.
"I, uh," he began, his voice betraying his apprehension. "I wanted to talk to you both. Without Quinn," he clarified, his words stumbling slightly in his haste. "I would like your permission to take your daughter on a date. I'll be away for the entire month of June, but when I return, I'd like to take her out."
The air in the room seemed to thicken with surprise as the couple exchanged stunned glances. Russel, in particular, was taken aback by the unexpected request. Never before had anyone sought his permission to date his daughter, not even when he himself had started dating Judy. The novelty of the situation left him momentarily speechless.
Judy, however, was quicker to recover from the shock, her face lighting up with joy at the prospect. "On my part, of course," she chimed in happily, her warm tone offering reassurance to the nervous teenager. Still, she remained on edge, knowing that Russel's response would ultimately hold more weight.
The blond man cleared his throat, mustering his composure as he addressed Isaac with a mixture of surprise and amusement. "I've never had a young man come to my door asking for permission to take my daughter on a date," he admitted, his tone reflecting a blend of incredulity and humor. "Not even I did when I started dating Judy."
After a moment's consideration, he nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "But by all means, you have my permission," he granted, his voice carrying a note of genuine approval.
With the weight of approval lifted, Isaac visibly relaxed, his posture easing as he settled back into his seat at the table. "This is new for me, but I really like her, and I want to do things right," he admitted earnestly, his sincerity shining through.
"Better than her last boyfriend, for sure," Russel remarked, a touch of disdain coloring his tone as he recalled his daughter's previous relationship. Judy shot him a warning glance, but the sentiment hung in the air nonetheless.. "What? It's true. He didn't treat our daughter the way she deserved, and he was a terrible football player."
"Quinn mentioned that you're a Bengals fan, Mr. Fabray,"
"In this house, we're more into football than hockey, son," Russel joked, though a touch of sentimentality crept into his voice, remembering a similar exchange he'd had with the boy years ago. "And call me Russel. I'm not that old yet."
"I'm sure I can convince you to join the dark side. By the way, Judy, this lasagna was delicious. Thank you."
Judy beamed with pride at the compliment, her smile radiant as she accepted the praise. "You're welcome, dear."
"Anyway," Russel clapped his hands together, changing the subject, "there's a Warriors game on. Do you want to stay and watch? If you have nothing else to do, of course."
Isaac shook his head, a smile playing at his lips as he quickly pulled out his phone to send a message. "I suppose I can stay for a while."
Quinn ambled distractedly towards the door of her house, the jingle of her keys echoing softly in the stillness of the evening. Fingers tapping away on her cell phone, she barely registered the glow of the porch light illuminating her path. Just as she reached to insert the key into the lock,a flicker of confusion crossed her features as she noticed the lights aglow inside the house; they had mentioned going out to dinner, leaving her with the house all to herself.
As she pushed open the door and stepped inside, the sound of the television and her father's indignant shout about a seemingly unfair foul greeted her ears. "Dad, Mom, I'm here," she called out, her voice cutting through the din as she made her way down the hallway toward the living room. Yet, the scene that unfolded before her was one she hadn't anticipated in the least.
Her father had Isaac in a friendly headlock, the two of them enthusiastically jumping up and down while engrossed in the game flashing on the TV screen. Nearby, her mother sat in a chair, a book forgotten in her hands as she turned to greet her daughter.
"Quinnie, hello," her mother exclaimed, rising from her seat and setting aside her book. "How was your day with the girls?"
But Quinn's attention was firmly fixed on Isaac, whose cheeks flushed crimson under her scrutiny. "What are you doing here?" she questioned, her tone a mixture of surprise and curiosity.
Before he could respond, her father interjected with a mischievous grin, "I invited him. In fact, he even had your mother's lasagna with us, but don't worry, we saved a piece for you."
"Your father can be very convincing," he admitted with a sheepish smile, a hint of bashfulness coloring his tone. "But I was already leaving," he continued, his expression filled with regret.
"There's still a quarter left in the game," Russel protested, a hint of disappointment tingeing his tone. "Do you really have to go?"
"Unfortunately, yes."
"I'll walk you to the door," Quinn blurted out suddenly, eager to have a moment alone away from her parents' watchful gazes.
They made their way towards the door in a comfortable silence, each lost in their own thoughts. She stole occasional glances at Isaac, noting the nervous fidgeting of his fingers. As they reached the threshold, she stepped back slightly to open the door, allowing them both to step out onto the porch.
"Have I done something? You don't exactly look happy to see me," he ventured uncertainly, his hazel eyes filled with a mix of confusion and apprehension.
"I'm sorry, I just didn't expect to see you at my house watching a game with my father. They told me they were going out to dinner," she explained, her guilt evident in her tone at the sight of his crestfallen expression. "It was just a shock, that's all. You haven't done anything wrong."
He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture that she recognized all too well. "He invited me, and I didn't want to be rude."
"Did you want something? I mean, you came all the way from Columbus all the way here."
"I had to talk to your parents, Fabray."
Quinn's suspicion began to simmer beneath the surface, her annoyance growing as she contemplated the burgeoning friendship between her father and Isaac. "So, I'm expecting to see more of you around here, Hargrave?" she asked, her tone laced with skepticism.
"Actually, no. At least not until August," Isaac clarified quickly. a hint of regret coloring his tone. "Family vacations and stuff, you know?"
"Will you bring me back a souvenir? Santana said she hopes to see you before we start our sophomore year, with more chocolate if possible."
"I know. She texted me today. And as for bringing you something, I'll think about it."
"You're such a goof," Quinn scoffed playfully, though a hint of affection laced her words.
"But I'm your goof, aren't I?" The hockey player retorted with a flirtatious grin, a glimmer of hope shining in his eyes.
"It depends on how much I like that gift, Hargrave."
"Challenge accepted, Fabray," his head tilted slightly in a gesture that Quinn couldn't help but find endearing. There was something about the way he looked at her, like a loyal golden retriever eager to please, that softened her resolve."Let's make a deal. If you like the gift, you'll let me take you on a date."
Her green eyes widened in surprise, her mouth half-opened in astonishment. "You didn't just ask me on a date like that," she exclaimed, her heart pounding in her chest at the unexpected proposal.
"Come on, your parents have already given me their blessing and I'd hate to let them down"
The realization hit her like a ton of bricks, and she felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment. "Wait, you came all the way from Columbus to my house on a Sunday just to ask my dad if you could take me on a date?" she spluttered, her mortification evident in the way her words stumbled over each other.
"I wanted to make sure Russel knew that I would treat his baby girl with the respect she deserves.I like you, Quinn," he confessed softly, the vulnerability in his expression belying the playful demeanor he often wore. "And I really, really would like to take you on a date."
"Then that gift better be amazing."
"It's a good gift, isn't it?"
Isaac's voice carried a hopeful tone as he stood alongside Mason, Alec, Asher, and Jayden, all pressed against the glass of the store window, their attention fixed on the dazzling display within.
"Buddy, I don't think your mother would let you spend that much money on a gift."
"Dad's right. It's a bit expensive," Asher chimed in, casting a sideways glance at his older brother, his expression mirroring his father's apprehension.
"Don't pay attention to them, Ace," Alec interjected, offering a reassuring pat on his godson's back. "Your father gave your mother a pearl necklace on their first date. Besides, your mother doesn't have to know."
"What shouldn't I know?" The familiar voice cut through the air like a knife, and the quintet turned as one to find Bailey, Gabrielle, and Sabrina standing before them, all of them wearing matching Minnie Mouse ears.
"Honey, hello," Mason greeted his wife with an attempt at nonchalance as he leaned casually against the storefront. "Looking cute with those Minnie ears. Do you have some for me?"
"Mason Andre Taylor!" Sabrina's stern tone echoed through the air, causing the boys to wince in unison.
"We were just giving our opinion to Isaac about an unimportant thing."
"We're in Disneyland, for heaven's sake. What are you all doing standing in front of a Swarovski store?" Her frustration was palpable, her annoyance evident as she gestured emphatically at the glittering storefront. Her authority momentarily compromised by the mouse ears perched atop her head.
"Ace is looking for the perfect gift for his girl, Sab. Or don't you remember the pearl necklace Jacob gave Sophia?" The blond man interjected,seeking to diffuse the tension with a touch of humor. He draped an arm around his godson's shoulders, offering a supportive squeeze. "Worthy son of his father, isn't he?"
Sabrina's expression softened slightly as she approached the storefront, her eyes widening in shock as she caught sight of the price tag. "Isaac Hargrave-Taylor," she admonished her eldest son, her voice stern. "I hope you weren't thinking about spending $200 on a red crystal rose."
Isaac whimpered pathetically under his mother's gaze, his attempt to defend himself falling short in the face of her disapproval. The rest of the family discreetly moved away, giving mother and son some space to talk.
"But she likes them," he pleaded, his voice tinged with desperation as he sought to justify his extravagant choice. "She agreed to go out with me if she liked my gift." She sighed, her heart aching at her son's crestfallen expression.
"Isaac, baby," she was still grappling with the idea that her son harbored feelings for the Fabray girl. "If that girl really likes you, the gift won't matter. She'll go out with you anyway. We girls don't need expensive gifts to be happy. What matters is who gives us that gift."
"You don't like her," He murmured under his breath, his tone tinged with hurt as he absorbed his mother's words. It wasn't a question; it was a statement. "Every time I mention her, you either frown or make a face."
"I just don't want to see you hurt. You're my son, and I'm your mother. It's normal for me to worry about you, especially since you've never shown so much interest in a girl before."
"I think she's it for me, Mom," Isaac confessed earnestly, his voice tinged with reverence. The depth of his conviction struck a chord within her, stirring a mixture of pride and apprehension in her heart.
"You're still very young. You just turned seventeen," she reasoned gently, her tone tinged with a hint of caution as she sought to temper her son's fervor with a dose of practicality.
"Dad met Mom at sixteen too, and he knew he wanted to marry her."
"I almost put a restraining order on your father, you know?" Sabrina chuckled, a fond smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she recalled the embarrassing memory. "One of my cheerleaders had gotten sick, and I begged your mom to put on a uniform and replace her. Your dad noticed her and thought Sophia was a McKinley cheerleader. He came looking for her every day for almost three months until he mustered the courage to talk to me. When I threatened to put a restraining order on him, he said he was just looking for your mother to ask for her number."
"I didn't know. You miss them, don't we? Uncle Alec too. I've seen how he looks at me sometimes."
"Every day," she admitted, her voice laced with a quiet longing as she rested her head on his shoulder. "You are a carbon copy of Jacob. You have his talent for hockey, but you have Sophia's talent for music. You are their perfect thing, and I'm sure they're proud of the young man you've become."
"So, what should I get her?" Isaac asked after a few moments of silence, his voice filled with uncertainty.
"You said she liked roses, right?" Nod. "And reading too?" she continued, her lips quirking into a knowing smile. Again, her son nodded, a flicker of excitement dancing in his gaze. "Well then, I have the perfect gift."