He did wonder though if the confused teen had taken his advice and called Kurt. Burt refrained from calling Kurt and asking himself, he would let his son tell him if he wanted to, it wasn’t his business.

The next day passed in a flurry of activity, so when four pm rolled around, he hadn’t expected another cup of coffee adorning the Lima Bean logo to appear in his line of vision, nor did he expect the boy holding it.

“Back again,” Burt stated simply, wiping his hands off on the towel tucked into his belt. Grease and coffee didn’t generally go well together. “Thanks for the coffee.”

Blaine shrugged and shook his head a little.

“How was your day?” Blaine pulled up the stool from yesterday, reclaiming his perch.

“Busy. It is busy. I’m sorry, I can’t really stop to chat.”

“It’s all right. I mean, I did intrude on your workplace. I hope I’m not a distraction or anything.”

“No,” Burt shook his head, replacing the cup of coffee in his hand with the screwdriver he needed. “I’ve just got a lot of work to do.”

“Anything I can do to help?” Blaine’s expression widened, the image of an overeager puppy flashed through Burt’s mind before he filed it away. “I did help my dad with that car.”

Burt frowned at that. Blaine had helped his dad build a car, but thought that his father’s intentions were to turn him straight, not bond with his son. Burt may not be the most liberal of men or the most open-minded, he tried, he did, but he would never want Kurt to be anything than exactly what he was.

Sure, if Kurt were straight, or liked football, or any number of other things that Burt enjoyed that Kurt didn’t, it would certainly make things easier, but he loved his son. Kurt was Kurt, and he could never ask for anything more.

Burt hesitated to say yes, he certainly didn’t want to give Blaine the impression that he hoped Blaine would be straight, or to change him in any way. Kids have enough of a hard time figuring themselves out; they didn’t need parental pressure to be something they weren’t added on top of that.
“Are you sure? I mean, I don’t want to—,”

“No, no, I’d like to help. I know with my dad,” Blaine waved his hand vaguely, “it was just…not. It wasn’t real, it was more of an act than anything else and he, he wanted me to be something I wasn’t. Something I’m not.” Blaine shifted on the stool his hand scratching at the back of his neck. “I do like cars.”

“Okay, well, then you should change into something more appropriate, wouldn’t want to get that uniform dirty.” Burt shot Blaine a genuine smile. “Go talk to Jeremy, there’s a shirt in my office I think will fit you.”

“Thanks.” Blaine grinned and shot off the stool, leaving the half-drunk coffee. Burt took another sip of his coffee and looked at the cup, this time ‘Burt’ was written on the side in black ink.

His lips twitched up appreciation and he returned the cup to his workstation, adjusting his focus back to the car in front of him. Truth be told, he didn’t need to be this busy, but he also didn’t know how to talk to Blaine.

What were they supposed to talk about? He had a hard enough time trying to talk to Kurt, a boy he’d raised for nearly seventeen years, now there’s some other kid he’s supposed to make small talk with, a kid he knows virtually nothing about.

If Blaine wanted to help work on the car, that was fine with Burt, he was comfortable with cars.

Cars were predictable. They came with easy fixes, new parts, a little grease here, and an oil change there. People were harder to deal with, even more so when Burt had nothing in common with them.

Kurt…Kurt could be predictable, for the most part. He was like the car Burt re-built after graduating high school. Burt knew all the parts and exactly what he needed to press, how hard or soft to make the car do what he wanted.

It wasn’t to say that he could completely control the car; it still broke down on him more than he’d care to admit. It was stubborn and it had a life of its own on occasion. For the most part though, Burt was comfortable with that car. He understood it.

Blaine on the other hand, he was like a shiny new European sports car that arrived without a manual. Burt couldn’t get under the hood even if he knew how to open it.

Blaine returned from the back a few minutes later and drew Burt from his comparisons of people and cars. Blaine’s fingers traced over the name embroidered on the chest, Kurt’s name, but he dropped his hand as soon as he noticed Burt’s gaze.

“So, what are we doing?” Blaine beamed at him and shifted his shoulders a little, letting the shirt settle on his small frame.

Forty minutes passed in a flash and Burt was pleasantly surprised to find that not only was Blaine knowledgeable about cars, but also was eager to learn from Burt.

Blaine leaned in as Burt showed him how to install a stereo. Burt handed over the crimp tool and let Blaine take the lead with Burt explaining what to do. The boy furrowed his brow as he picked up the crimp and his tongue stuck out of the side of his mouth as he poured his whole concentration into the act.

When Blaine finished, Burt looked over his handiwork and gave the boy a congratulatory pat on the back.

“Great job, Blaine!” Burt took the crimp tool back from Blaine and set it aside. “I think we’re about done here if you want to take a break or head home or anything.”

“Thanks,” Blaine bit his lower lip and shifted his eyes between Burt and the floor. Burt tilted his head forward, his brow furrowing.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, yes, yeah,” Blaine struggled to find his words. “That was…nice, different.”

Burt nodded and handed him a towel. Usually when Kurt helped around the shop he would complain about getting his hands dirty and go on and on about his pores. Blaine, however, never mentioned a word about it, instead asking him questions about how certain things worked. It was nice. It was different.

“This might sound weird, but I wish, I wish I could just be with my father like that.” He waved his hand towards the car. “Just cars, just…I don’t know, enjoying someone’s company without it having to be about something else.” Blaine’s eyes grew distant, his mouth, Burt was used to seeing plastered with a smile, furrowed in a frown that reached far beyond his mouth.

Burt’s heart went out to the kid; he couldn’t imagine what it must be like for him. He gripped Blaine’s shoulder and crouched down to his eye level.

“Hey,” Burt’s voice went as soft as his heart. “It’s not your fault.”

“I know. It’s my dad’s thing that he has to work through. It’s not me, but…sometimes I wish I were straight, just so it would be easier, easier to be around him.”

“Look, I don’t know your dad, but I’m getting to know you. You’re a good person Blaine. Don’t ever wish to be something you’re not, be exactly who you are. Someday, someday your dad might get it. It is his thing to work through, you just be yourself, okay?”

Blaine nodded, biting back the tears welling in his eyes. Burt wrapped his arms around Blaine’s shoulders, unsure of whether or not it would be okay, but Blaine fiercely gripped Burt. Burt felt tears wetting the shirt under Blaine’s face and tried to give the boy a few comforting pats on the back.

“Thank you,” Blaine whispered.

Burt wanted to be better. He knew that his acceptance of Kurt’s sexuality, of his personality was huge, especially compared to Blaine’s dad. Maybe the two of them could have a chat someday down the line. He wanted to be better for Kurt.

Fixing up that car with Blaine had been so easy, different from their previous conversations. He wanted that for him and Kurt. He wanted something they could share, something besides his health.

They tried cooking, they did, but Burt had two left feet in the kitchen, or two left hands? He wasn’t sure. He didn’t think he could ever get into fashion, and even if he did, it would all get ruined at work. But…

“Thanks again,” Blaine stated when he returned from changing back into his clothes. Burt eyed Blaine for a moment.

“You gonna be here tomorrow too?”

“If that’s alright,” Blaine’s cheeks tinged a faint pink. “I mean, I don’t hav—,”

“No, I’d like that. You’re always welcome here, Blaine.”

“Oh, thank you,” Blaine grinned and picked up his bag.

“Say, you, do you know anything about musicals?”

“I think it’s safe to say I’m knowledgeable about them.” Blaine chuckled a little, his normal spark glinting in his eyes.

“Could you maybe teach me a bit about them tomorrow?” Burt asked. Blaine’s eyebrows shot to his forehead. “For…for Kurt. He’s always going on about them and I thought it would be cool if we could, I don’t know, talk about them.”

Blaine beamed. For Kurt. A common theme in both their lives.

“I would love to teach you about musicals.”

When Blaine left, Burt came to the conclusion that Blaine wasn’t some fancy schmancy European sports car, he just looked like one. The manual was there and Burt was getting closer to finding it.