"Kurt, what do you want?" Burt asked as he walked past his son, who was sitting on an office chair in the middle of Hummel Tires and Lube.

"Nothing, I just came here to…hang out," Kurt said, failing to think of a better phrase then 'hang out'.

"Where's your brother? You could hang out with him!" Burt suggested. Kurt rolled his eyes. No matter how similar they looked, Kurt found it difficult to get along with Carson.

They were pretty much opposites: while Kurt was an openly gay, fashion-conscious teenager; Carson was straight, and he cared pretty much exclusively about himself and his career.

While Kurt's wardrobe contained a variety of clothes: skintight jeans in every colour of the rainbow; a wide variety of shirts, ties, bow ties, jackets and blazers; and probably enough shoes to fill an Olympic swimming pool, Carson's wardrobe was made up of shirts and t-shirts in various shades of blue and grey; a few pairs of jeans in blue and black; and some hoodies and jumpers in more shades of blue and grey.

Kurt often tried to improve relations between himself and his twin brother, but his efforts never got very far. Carson was just like him: as stubborn as a mule. Occasionally, the two boys teamed up against their father, Burt, when he tried to get them to do something they didn't want to, for example the disastrous time that Burt had tried to get them to wear matching outfits to a family reunion.

"No." Carson and Kurt said in unison when they saw the matching outfits hanging on the dining room door.

"Come on, boys. It's a family reunion, we have to give off a good impression!" Burt said, trying to reason with his sons.

"I'd rather bite off my own arm than put those jeans on." Carson said, folding his arms as he looked with disdain at the white skinny jeans.

"You can't pair white jeans with a white hoodie, dad, we'll look like wannabe versions of Usher or something," Kurt said, crossing his arms in a pose identical to his twin's. "But we're so pale that we'll be indistinguishable from our outfits." Carson snickered at this, nudging Kurt with his shoulder.

"Well I got them for you because when there was a family reunion when you were six, you wore matching sailor costumes, and it could become some sort of tradition!" Burt said, patting one of the identical white hoodies.
"We were six." Carson said.

"Just try them on, at least!" Burt said.

"How much are you willing to pay?" Kurt asked.

"Uh, ten dollars each." Burt said, shrugging.

"Fifty each or the outfits are getting burned." Kurt said, raising an eyebrow.

"I worked hard on these, the hoodie is Carson's style and the jeans are Kurt's style! It's perfect!" Burt cried.

"No." The twins said in unison, and that was the end of it: the outfits were never seen again.

"Carson, dinner's ready!" Came Burt's voice from downstairs. Although Burt's voice had been sufficiently loud for Carson to hear him easily, Carson hadn't heard him, as he was listening to music at full volume on his iPod.

"Carson, get your ass down here or dad will make you sleep in the shed!" Came Kurt's voice. This also went unheard by Carson. When he received no reply, Kurt trotted up the stairs towards his twin brother's room.

They used to share a bedroom, but they had begged to have individual rooms when they became teenagers and their father had said yes. Poking his head in the door, Kurt found his brother lying on his bed in black tracksuit bottoms and a white t-shirt. Kurt slinked across the room and tapped Carson's nose.

After leaping about a foot in the air after opening his eyes to see his over-dressed twin leaning over him, Carson yanked his earphones out and sat up.

"What do you want?" He sighed, shoving his iPod touch in the drawer of his nightstand.

"Dinner's ready," Kurt said as he swept out of the room, the tails of his shirt – yes, a shirt with tails – nearly getting caught in between the door and the doorframe. Carson jogged out of the room, catching up with Kurt when he was halfway down the stairs.
"How long have you been calling me?" Carson asked, his sock-covered feet making soft sounds as he slid his feet down the carpeted stairs.

"Dad called you once, then I called you, then I came upstairs to get you," Kurt said. "What were you listening to so loudly that you didn't hear us, by the way? Screamo?" Carson rolled his eyes.

"What are you wearing? This is the Hummel household, not Buckingham Palace." Carson said, pulling one of Kurt's shirt tails.

"You're just jealous that you can't even dress yourself presentably enough to sit with me and dad for dinner," Kurt said, wearing his classic 'bitch face'; one eyebrow raised, arms crossed.

"I bet you ten bucks dad is wearing a pair of old jeans and a flannel shirt." Carson said as he and Kurt walked through the hall.

"That's because he wears pretty much the same thing every day, the only thing that changes is the colour of the shirt!" Kurt said exasperatedly. "Anyway, you missed out the cap, ten dollars to me!" He said, patting his father on the cap-covered head as he passed by him.

"We didn't shake on it, though!" Carson cried, flopping down at his seat.

A/N
Not entirely sure whether I'll continue this, but it was certainly fun to write! I like Kurt and Carson as brothers!