'Tis the Damn Season - A KurtBastian One Shot

'Tis the Damn Season

"And how are you?"

The New York resident slowly turned his head and attention from the snow to his father. "Fine." He simply said again.

But Burt Hummel could see the answer in his son's eyes. They were sad and slightly red. A bit watery and there were bags under them. He wasn't fine at all. Deciding not to touch upon the soft subject just yet, he settled with, "Well, I'm glad you decided to come visit this year."

Kurt forced a smile and nodded. "I missed you guys.."

His father also smiled and nodded in agreement, even though he knew that wasn't the only reason why. Kurt now brought his attention to the mug in front of him, staring down into the brown liquid. His father placed a comforting hand on his leg. "The holidays haven't ever been easy in this house. But we always make the best of it. Right, bud?"

Kurt's eyes glanced up briefly before returning to their place gazing outside the window. "..I think I'm gonna turn in early. Fighting that crowd in JFK really tired me out." He half lied. His father had a feeling he may have just pushed on the topic a bit too soon and knew it was best to let his son be for some time. Kurt muttered a goodnight to his dad and step-mom, placing his mug in the sink and retreated up to his bedroom for the remainder of the night.

He changed into sweatpants and a basic white tee before brushing his teeth and crawling into bed. Staring up at the ceiling like he was in high school again anxious for what the next day would bring. He took a deep breath and tightly closed his eyes, fighting back tears.

Relax. You're fine. Don't start, Hummel. Once you do there's no telling when you'll stop.

But his thoughts could not compete with the pain in his heart. And the hot tears slid down his cheeks as he quietly sobbed into the darkness of his room which eventually tired him out and lulled him to sleep.

As the morning sunlight inched its way through the blinds, Kurt's eyes fluttered open and he stretched out his tired limbs. As he rolled over to check his phone his mouth suddenly watered with a burning desire for a piping hot cup of coffee. But not just your basic go to Starbucks coffee or the coffee that streams out of a Keurig. He wanted a Lima Bean coffee. That was his favorite coffee shop back when he was in high school. All the students would hang out there before and after classes. He had his mind set; he was going to get a coffee from the Lima Bean. He threw the covers off of himself and shuffled into the bathroom. He was greeted by his reflection that he barely recognized. There was a slight stubble on his face. His eyes were red and puffy and slightly bloodshot. And his hair was going in all different directions. He shook his head, finding it hard to believe he allowed himself to look like this. If only his teenage self could see him now.

After a quick shower and a fresh change of clothes, Kurt was ready to make the drive to the coffee shop. He descended the old, creaky steps down into the living room where his step-mother sat reading on her kindle.

"Good morning, Carole." The man greeted her. She looked up from her novel and smiled at her step-son.

"Hi, honey. Where are you headed, all bundled up?"

Kurt giggled lightly. "I just wanted to stop by the Lima Bean. Grab a coffee for old times sake. But I just realized, I no longer have a car..." he trailed off.

Carole softly laughed, removing her reading glasses and folding them in her lap. "You can take my truck," she insisted, pointing her thumb back over her shoulder. "The keys are hanging by the door."

"I won't be long."

Carole 'tsk'-ed, brushing off his comment. "Don't be ridiculous, Kurt. Take your time. The roads are icy, I'd prefer it if you did." She winked.