Written for the prompt: Kurt and Blaine have an epic fight involving several broken plates when Burt comes home in the middle of it and punishes them both.
It was a good week. Two days to Thanksgiving, and he had his boys back home for a whole week. The house felt weird, quiet and deserted, the weeks that Burt and Carole were in Ohio. Okay, and sometimes peaceful. And the idea of the two of them doing whatever they liked, wherever they liked was at much fun now as it had been with Betsy in their first place out of high school. Some things would never get old. But for the most part, he missed his boys and was glad to have them back.
It was a nice thought, anyway.
Puckerman and Finn were in the truck with him, on the way back from the shop. He liked to check in when he was home, get his hands dirty again, and the boys had wanted to pick up some hours. Kurt had stayed home to spend time with Blaine. Burt knew what that was like, and knew that he and Kurt would spend some time working there together later.
The boys had promised to have a meal ready by the time the time everyone else got home at 7. It was only 6 now, but that would give them time to get cleaned up, and, well, he was looking forward to dinner. Half of Kurt's stuff was crazy weird, but he'd gotten really good at making it taste better than it sounded. He couldn't be blamed for looking forward to coming home to a good smelling house.
Instead, they got yelling and screaming and no smell at all.
The three of them exchanged glances as they stepped in from the garage and the volume went up.
"Yeah, yeah, that's real mature, Blaine," Kurt taunted. "I like the way you're proving your point there."
"Oh, shut the fuck up," Blaine yelled back. "I am sick of the way you turn it on me all the time. God damn it!" There was an enormous crash and the three of them took off towards the sound.
"What the hell is going on here?" Burt roared. Kurt and Blaine were standing on either side of the dining room table, red faced and angry. Blaine was breathing hard and there was a pile of shattered dishware at his feet.
"Someone can't control his temper," Kurt snapped.
"Yeah, well, someone ," Blaine started, but Burt cut him off.
"Enough! I want a straight answer," Burt barked.
Kurt crossed his arms and glared at Blaine, who matched it.
"Kurt is a control freak," Blaine said tightly. "I just-"
"Oh, you just," Kurt mocked. "Control this." He snatched up a glass tumbler from the table and pitched it at the wall.
"Hey!" Burt shouted over Blaine's retort and grabbed his son's arm to give him a shake. "The hell do you think you're doing? Calm down."
"Let go," Kurt snapped, pulling free.
"Hey," Burt said, sharply. "You watch your attitude. Both of you," he said, looking at Blaine's mutinous face. "You need to get control of yourselves. Get in corners, now."
Kurt looked startled. "Dad!"
Finn and Puck had been watching the scene with slack jaws, but knew where it was going now. They turned and headed upstairs to give them privacy.
"You act like children, you're treated like children," Burt said grimly. "I'm not going to tell you again. Living room. Go."
Kurt appeared ready to protest but another look at his Dad's face had him tightening his lips and marching out, back stiff.
Burt looked at Blaine, who still looked furious. "You're not my kid, so I know you don't have to listen to me," he said quietly. "But I'm going to suggest you do it, anyway."
Blaine hesitated but nodded once. "Yes, sir." He followed Kurt out.
Burt looked around the room. Nothing out of place but the shattered plates - not the good ones, at least - and the glass by the wall. He stepped around the plates and into the kitchen. Nothing too bad - open cabinets, overturned flour bag, some ingredients still out. He put the milk and eggs back in the fridge, seeing a large, covered casserole dish that hadn't been there earlier. They'd made it through part of dinner making, at least. He rightened the flour bag; the boys would clean it up, but he could stem the mess. He noticed that the baking powder box next to it had a bottom corner dented, like it had been slammed down with some force.
He sighed. He had no idea what had gotten into them, they hadn't seemed tense at all when he had left. Hopefully corner time would help them settle down. He rubbed his hand over his head. This was not how he wanted to spend any of his short week with Kurt.
He took another glance around the room, making sure everything would be fine until he was done with the boys. He needed to give himself time to calm down as well as them, so took his time showering and changing. When he finished, he was feeling ready to get this over with.
He walked into the living room, taking in the boys in front of him. Blaine was standing stiffly, straight as a board. Kurt had his head bowed, leaning against the wall.
"Sit down on the couch, boys," Burt said, sitting in his armchair.
Kurt hadn't even sat down before he was talking. "I'm so sorry, Dad," he said. "I can't - I can't apologize enough. I don't even know how it got that far," he shook his head. "I feel terrible."
"I appreciate that, kiddo," he said. "Can you tell me what happened?" he asked, glancing at Blaine who was still stiff next to Kurt.
"Blaine was right," Kurt said, and Burt knew how hard that was for the kid to say. "I wanted things a certain way and I ignored what he was saying. It escalated. I'm sorry, Blaine."
Blaine nodded in acknowledgement as Burt turned to him. "Blaine?"
"I let my frustration get the better of me," Blaine said. "I apologize for losing my temper, Mr. Hummel."
"Burt, kid," he reminded him. "What happened to the dishes?"
"I had brought them in to set the table," Blaine said. "I - I took offense to something Kurt said and, um." He made a swiping motion with his hand and his shoulders slumped. "I broke them. I'm sorry. I will replace them."
"Yes, you will," Burt agreed. "I appreciate your offer." He looked at Kurt, who was glancing between Burt and Blaine nervously. "Boys, you know that your behavior was unacceptable."
"It won't happen again," Blaine promised and Kurt nodded.
"I'm glad to hear it," Burt said. "But it happened today and we need to take care of the consequences."
"It was my fault," Kurt cut in. "I started it and I retaliated with the glass instead of letting it go and I had the attitude. I will take the consequences."
"You will," Burt said, "for all of those reasons, but you weren't the only one being destructive and acting like a child."
"But it was my house and my responsibility," Kurt argued, leaning past Blaine to plead his case. "Blaine can start cleaning up, so we can take care of this before Carole gets home and wants dinner."
"Blaine knows our rules, right, kid?" Burt asked him. "You've spent most of the last two years here."
Blaine gave a jerky nod.
"Then don't make excuses for him," Burt said. "You were both involved, you're both going to be spanked." Kurt opened his mouth again but Burt held up his hand. "I'm not interested in hearing any more, Kurt. Don't push me right now."
Kurt slumped back in defeat.
"Blaine, what would happen if you did this at home?" Burt asked.
Blaine looked startled. "I-I don't know," he said. "Yelling, I guess. Maybe I'd get grounded."
"What would they think about this?" Burt asked. "They gonna have a problem with it?"
Blaine shrugged. "I don't know. I'm 18, though. It's my call, not theirs. And since they won't be back from LA until next week, they probably won't even know. Unless you think they need to?" He looked uncertain.
Burt paused. "I think that will be your choice," he said and Blaine nodded. "You been spanked before?"
"No, sir," he said.
"Okay." He considered his options - it might be kinder to get him done first, rather than seeing and worrying about what was coming. Then again, considering his wife's dishes in pieces on their floor, he wasn't inclined towards too much kindness. Putting some fear into the kid might not be a bad idea in the long run.
"Let's get this done with. Kurt, come here."
Kurt crossed the room with one glance back at Blaine. He hesitated and Burt raised his eyebrow at him. He flushed and quickly undid his pants, shimmying them and his briefs down before lying across Burt's lap.
Burt didn't waste time; he held Kurt's side to keep him still and smacked down twice. Kurt flinched and grabbed onto Burt's ankle with one hand, the other balanced on the floor.
"I have to say, kid," Burt said, swatting again, "I really didn't think we were going to be back here again." He kept up a steady rhythm of solid smacks all over Kurt's backside, which was quickly turning pink. "I am really disappointed in your actions and your attitude. I expect more from you."
He spanked harder, concentrating them where his backside met thigh. Kurt tensed up, squeezed his ankle in response. "I know you think you're an adult now, but that doesn't mean you can be disrespectful to me or to my house."
He moved down, slapping Kurt's thigh, and Kurt gave a little gasp, echoed by Blaine on the couch. He repeated the action on the other leg. "In fact," he said, continuing to land hard spanks there, "it means that there's no excuse for this kind of behavior. The attitude, the mouth, the glass, none of it.
"You want to be a man, and I want to see you act like it. When you don't, when you act like a child instead, I will remind you of my expectations just like this. Got it?" He punctuated his question with a stingy slap.
"Yes," Kurt said, his voice sounding a little teary. "I'm sorry."
Burt moved back to Kurt's backside, his thighs now heated and rosy. "I know you are, kid. You just gotta think about what you're doing. Being mean, being destructive, disrespectful, that's not how I raised you."
He went over the flushed red skin one last time before he finished with two hard swats and rested his hand on Kurt's back.
"Okay, kiddo," he said, tapping gently. "You're done."
Kurt pushed himself up, wiping at the tears, and headed back to his corner. As he leaned against the wall, sniffling, Burt turned to Blaine. He'd watched Kurt walk past, eyes wide and face pale, and was still staring at his boyfriend. Burt cleared his throat and Blaine whipped himself back around.
"All right, Blaine," he said. "Your turn."
Blaine nodded and slowly stood up from the couch. He hesitated when in front of Burt.
"Just like Kurt," Burt said, knowing what he was wondering.
Blaine bit his lip and fumbled with the button on his pants before getting everything undone and down. He quickly laid himself down over Burt's lap.
Burt adjusted him a little, tipping him forward. He hadn't realized how awkward navigating the boys' heights had become until he had Blaine there, reminding him how much easier it had been before Kurt's growth spurt. Blaine had grabbed his ankle with one hand, the other balanced on the floor, just like he'd seen Kurt do, but his feet couldn't quite reach the floor.
"Do you know why you're here, Blaine?" Burt asked, one arm ready to keep him in place and the other resting on his back.
"Because Kurt and I let our fight get out of control," Blaine said, sounding nervous enough to make it a question.
Burt slapped down and Blaine gave an "oh!" of surprise.
"This is about you, not Kurt," he said, slapping down again, a little harder. "This is about the disrespect you showed, to me and Carole and our home. Got that?" This slap landed in the same place as the last and Blaine inhaled sharply.
"Ye-yes, sir," he said, tensing as Burt swatted again.
"Good." Burt started spanking in earnest, landing firm swats without pause all over Blaine's backside.
When Blaine started shifting around with a little whine, Burt slowed down. He tightened his grasp on Blaine's waist and smacked where his backside met thigh.
"Ah!" Blaine kicked his leg out.
"I'm really disappointed by your behavior today," Burt said, smacking him again. "You always seemed to have a good head on your shoulders, for a kid. This was a surprise." He kept the swats steady, but not as fast now. He wanted Blaine listening.
"Oh, ow, I-I'm sorry," Blaine said, his voice wobbly and rising as Burt swatted his thigh.
"I'm not happy about my wife's dishes, but I'm really not happy to see you lose your temper in a fight like that, breaking things out of anger." Burt paused, his hand in the air. "Do I got to be worried about you turning that violence towards Kurt next time you get mad?"
"Oh, nonono," Blaine gasped out. "No, never," his voice broke.
"I hope not," Burt said, continuing to heat his thighs. "This is something we're gonna be talking about, hear me? All of us."
"Yes, sir," Blaine said, voice trembling.
"Good," Burt said, moving back up to his backside. "You've been part of this family for a long time now, kid, and I have the same expectations for you that I do the boys. You will be respectful." He punctuated that with a hard swat and Blaine bucked. "If you break the rules, act like a little kid who can't control himself, this happens. Understood?"
Blaine nodded against his leg and Burt patted his back. "Then we're done."
Blaine nodded again, sagging against Burt's lap, and Burt could feel his shoulders shaking as he cried. He let him lay there until he got himself back under control.
He helped Blaine stand up and Blaine rubbed at his eyes, wiping away some of the wetness.
"Back in your corner now, kiddo," he said and Blaine shuffled over immediately.
Burt saw a flash of red out of the corner of his eye and then heard pounding on the stairs. He frowned and headed towards the foyer, intercepting Finn outside the dining room.
"What were you boys doing down here?" Burt asked, crossing his arms. "You better not be cleaning up their mess."
"No, man, we wouldn't," Finn promised. "But we wanted to see if we needed to call something in for dinner. But the whatever thing was in the fridge, and we figured they'd made it before they got mad. We put it in the oven, since Mom will be home soon. And, uh."
He waved his hand back at the dining room and Burt glanced in. There were two mugs on the table. "We made them warm milk." He shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. "Thought it'd help."
"Good man, Finn," Burt said, clapping his hand on Finn's shoulder and Finn grinned. "Go on, we'll call you when dinner is ready."
Finn jogged up the stairs and Burt turned back into the living room. He loved that the boys were trying to help their brother, but they'd all be better off if Kurt checked on dinner. Fast.
"All right, Kurt," he said.
Kurt tugged his pants back up and crossed the room.
"I know this wasn't how you wanted to spend your first trip home," Burt said and Kurt snorted.
"You can say that again," he said, ruefully. "From adult on my own to little kid in under 30."
"You're always going to be my kid," Burt reminded him. "In my house, I'm always gonna be in charge. It's up to you to act like you know you should. I've always been clear on the rules and consequences, it's never a surprise."
"I know," Kurt said. "I'm sorry. I won't put us back in this position again."
"Okay, then," Burt said, pulling Kurt in for a hug. Kurt rested his head on his shoulder for a moment. "I appreciate hearing that." He squeezed tight before Kurt stepped back.
"Now, you two were responsible for dinner. Was that the thing in the fridge?"
"Yeah," Kurt said. "We just need to reheat."
"Finn and Noah already put it in," Burt said and Kurt looked appalled. "Just a few minutes ago, I think, but you better check it. And then start cleaning so we can try to get dinner on time. Okay?"
Kurt glanced at Blaine and then over at the doorway.
"Go get started, he'll be right there," Burt said, and Kurt went to save his dinner.
"Okay, Blaine. Come here, please."
Blaine took his time getting his pants back up and buttoned before slowly making his way over. His face was flushed almost as red as his eyes.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Hummel - Burt," he said. "I do respect you and your family, so much, and I would never want to hurt any of you. You've always been so supportive of me, and I'm sorry for all of this."
"I'm glad to hear that," he said. "I know you're a good kid, Blaine. I'm still gonna talk with you and Kurt about better ways to deal with things when you get mad like that," he said, meeting Blaine's eyes seriously. "Because I don't think it was really about decorating the table right and it's not going to go away. But right now, you're forgiven." He reached out to pull Blaine into a hug. Blaine was stiff for a moment, before relaxing into and returning it.
"Thank you," he said softly, stepping back, blinking back more tears.
Burt squeezed his shoulder. "Now, Kurt's already gone to check dinner and start cleaning up. I want the dining room ready when Carole comes home, so you have about fifteen minutes. But if you boys want to eat up in Kurt's room then, you can."
Blaine nodded gratefully and left.
Burt dropped down onto the sofa with a sigh. He could smell dinner now, and it was as good as he'd hoped almost an hour earlier. Maybe this wasn't how any of them had planned the week to go, but it was still good to have everyone home.
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