More Than Meets The Eye 2/21
Story Title: More Than Meets The Eye 2/21
Chapter Title: Rite of Passage
Author: sakamotomhira
Rating: PG-13 - R (language)
Pairing: None
Summary: Kurt Hummel gets more than he expected when his dad buys him a car for his Sweet 16. As if his life wasn't hard enough.
Warning: Language, homophobia
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or Transformers. I do, however, own a plethora of nerd gear and technology.
Word Count: 1,640 Eh, not what I'd hoped.
Notes: So, here's the second chapter! I took a day or two off before starting to write this. Unfortunately, real life started to get in the way and it took forever to get it done. I'd hoped to have this done much sooner than this but I haven't abandoned this. But now we get to meet Kurt! This first chapter was 100% canon and this is where we start to diverge from the canon storyline. I went back and fixed any spelling errors in the first chapter. I've added more tags and will be linking each chapter together so there's a link to the previous chapter at the top and a link to the next at the bottom. There will also be a link to the Masterpost I'll be setting up in each chapter. For now, enjoy!
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Masterlist
Chapter 1
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The classroom hummed with activity, students chatting lightly as the teacher flipped though his book.
"Okay, Mr. Hummel, you're up," he called out.
A slender boy stood up and made his way to the front of the room. He stood behind a table and began unloading things from the messenger bag at his side.
"This'll just take a moment, I have a number of thing prepared."
Leaning over, a boy with hair shaved into a mohawk nudged the person beside him. "Watch this," he said under his breath. He grabbed a rubber band and stretched it between his fingers.
"Alright. So, for my family genea-ah-" he cut off as he was struck in the face with an elastic.
The students laughed, watching as the boy rubbed the stinging spot on his cheek.
"Who did-who did that?" the teacher questioned. He stood up, casting his gaze around the classroom. "People! Responsibility."
"Well then," the boy, Kurt, trailed off as another burst of laughter came from his classmates. "For my family genealogy report, I decided to do it on my great-great-grandfather, who was a famous man, Captain Archibald Hummel. Very famous explorer. In face, he was one of the first," he paused, grabbing a folded piece of aged, yellow paper, "to explore," another pause as he unfolded it to reveal a map, "the Arctic Circle, which is quite an extraordinary feat. In 1897, he took forty-one brave sailors straight into the Arctic Shelf.
--
Ice creaked as wind blew sharply. The sounds of tools striking frozen surfaces echoed slightly.
A deep voice called out, "Move faster, men! Move! Chop! Heave!" Other voices rang out in response.
"The ice is freezing faster than it's melting!"
"Chop faster!"
"Got to chop faster or we'll be stuck!"
"Heave, men! Heave!"
One man, his thick beard frost with ice and snow, a pair of round-framed glasses resting on a face tinged red from the cold, shouted encourage to his men. "No sacrifice, no victory! We'll get to the Arctic Circle, lads!"
--
"So that's the story, right? And here we have some of the basic instruments and tools used by nineteenth century seamen."
The class laughed.
An angry flush rose to Kurt's cheeks. "Grow up," he snapped before turning back to the items in front of him. "Now this is the quadrant. It's used for navigation by measuring the stars. It's similar to the sextant."
The teens laughed again.
"Honestly," Kurt huffed, rolling his eyes at his classmates' immaturity. "These are vintage and pretty cool," he continued. The brunette picked up a pair of glasses. The round lenses were cracked, the surface pockmarked with nicks and scratches. "These belonged to my grandfather. We can only imagine the thing they've seen." Kurt took a breath as he set the frames back down. "I'm planning to get all of this appraised and have them available for sale online, if any of you are interested. These are genuine antiques, over a hundred years old, so hopefully I can get quite a bit for them."
"Mr. Hummel, do you think that's entirely appropriate? Selling family heirlooms like this is absurd."
Kurt sighed. "I understand what you mean, sir, but I've asked my dad already and he said it was fine. Whatever money I get from this is going to help with car insurance as well as towards dry cleaning bills. You wouldn't believe how often I have to get slushie stains removed from my clothes."
Several of the jocks in the room laughed. It was a tradition at McKinley High to throw the icy beverages at the less popular kids. Kurt got more than his fair share along with other torments.
"Why would you need money to pay for car insurance?" the teacher asked.
"My dad promised to buy me a car for my Sweet 16. It's actually today. We're going after school to pick it out."
"Happy birthday, fag!" one of the footballs players jeered.
He tensed at the slur, frowning as the teacher said nothing against the other student. "Unfortunately, my great-great-grandfather, genius that he was," Kurt continued, picking up an old newspaper and a piece of paper covered in bizarre runes, "wound up going blind and crazy in a mental institution, drawing these strange symbols and babbling on about some giant ice man that he thought he'd discovered." Just as he finished the school bell rang.
Chairs scraped across the linoleum floor as the students left the room hurriedly.
"Okay. Might be a pop quiz tomorrow. Might now. Sleep in fear tonight."
Quickly packing up the materials from his presentation, Kurt fit everything into his bag and started to head to the door. He stopped as the teacher called his name. "Yes, sir? Was there a problem with my report?"
"Sort of. It's no acceptable to try to sell things to your classmates. I'll have to take off a letter grade for that."
"What?!" He couldn't believe what he just heard! "I put a lot of effort into this project. I'm not the only one in this class who's mentioned that they're planning on selling some of their belongings. Why am I getting in trouble for this?"
"Alright, you're right. I'm sorry," the teacher quickly apologized. "I won't take anything off your grade."
"Thank you."
"I do what I can to look out for my students."
Kurt blinked. "Yet you don't say a word when homophobic remarks are being thrown at me."
The teacher sighed. "You know how kids can be, Kurt."
"Yes, I'm very aware of how kids can be," he said waspishly. "I'm aware of how cruel they can be, how worthless they can make you feel. I know what constant treatment like this can do to some people and what it leads them to." The brunette took a few deep breaths to calm himself and prevent a tirade. "I'll see you Monday, sir." With that, Kurt swept out of the room, anger simmering just under the surface.
--
"Hey, Kiddo, something the matter?"
Kurt grunted as he slid into the passenger seat of his dad's car. "I'm fine, Dad. I just feel like I'm the only mature one in the school."
Burt cast a worried look at his son. "You'd tell me if anyone was giving you serious trouble, right?" He pulled away from the school, heading towards the highway away from town.
"Of course," he lied. The brunette didn't want to cause the older Hummel undue stress.
"Well, you're sixteen today. I think that's deserving of a bit of freedom." Burt grinned at the hopeful smile that Kurt gave him.
"What does this 'freedom' entail, may I ask?"
"You'll see in a minute," he chuckled. The teen was bouncing in his seat with excitement, trying to get him to tell him what the big surprise was.
Neither noticed that they were being followed, a dark truck trailing behind them at a distance.
"Ready?"
"For wha-oh my Gaga! No way!" Kurt cheers. His eyes widened, a joyous smile on his face as his dad pulled into a car dealership. "You're getting me a car? Thankyouthankyouthankyou!"
His son's excitement drew a laugh from Burt. "You've proved that you're responsible, you'll be able to make any repairs yourself." Kurt nodded at that. He'd worked with his father at the garage he owned from a young age. "I want you to pick out something practical, though. Something safe."
"I know, Dad."
A few minutes later the pair was walking around the lot, escorted by a salesperson.
"Do you have any ideas about what kind of car you'd be interested in?"
"Not really. I'll know when I see it." The teen looked at the rows of cars. "I want a car on the larger side. Shopping trips would be so much easier," he said, half-joking.
"Well, we have some trucks you might be interested in," the salesman suggested.
Kurt shrugged. "Sure, why not." They reached a section of massive vehicles. The brunette felt a chill run up his spine. "Okay, these are nice," he said appreciatively.
"Now, they don't have trunks but the rear cab is large enough to seat three and we have covers for the bed of the truck itself."
One at the end caught Kurt's eye. It was only a step down from a monster truck. It screamed power and authority. It wasn't subtle in the least. It was perfect.
"This one," he breathed, a smile stretching across his face. "This is the one."
Burt raised an eyebrow. "Really? This doesn't seem to be your style."
"It's big, bold, over the top, makes a statement no matter what, even if it was pink and screams 'don't mess with me.' A perfect fit, don't you think?"
"If you're sure. Why don't you check it out a bit more while we discuss payment." Kurt nodded absentmindedly and Burt walked a bit away with the associate.
Heart fluttering, Kurt ran his hand over the hood. He blinked. Did it-? Impossible. There's no way the truck could have shuddered. Opening the door, the brunette hopped inside. The steering wheel had a strange decal on it; a face that seemed best suited for a robot or something. A thrill ran through him, a feeling settling in his chest. There was no doubt in his mind that this was meant for him.
A knock on the window snapped him out of his thoughts. He climbed out, smiling up at his dad. "Is everything set?"
"Almost. You'll need to come inside to sign some paperwork, making you the owner and take care of payment. Then this bad boy," the salesman patted the side of the truck, "is all yours."
Kurt was practically bouncing as he followed the adults inside. His own car. None of them were aware of the truck shifting in place, pulling forwards just the slightest as if to follow them.
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Chapter 3