The Andersons haven’t stopped shouting for nearly an hour. Kurt stays frozen where he has since they all disappeared from the sitting room to talk in private, on the ugly floral-print (but still outrageously expensive, Kurt is sure) sofa, a glass of water clutched in his shaking hand, all the ice long melted from it.

It had started out a pleasant enough visit, as pleasant as any time spent in Blaine’s parent’s company can be, all fake smiles and pleasantries. Just a little while ago, Kurt and Blaine had sat here together across from Robert and Katherine Anderson, hands entwined between them and Kurt trying desperately not to think about the many, many times the two of them had made out on this very couch, grinning in anticipation as they delivered the news.

“We’re getting married!” Blaine said, his eyes shining with happiness, and underneath, apprehension.

The long silence and the stony and shocked expressions of Robert and Katherine, respectively, are not the reactions they had expected.

“…Say something?” Blaine’s smile wavers. Kurt doesn’t speak anything; he has long since learned that trying to talk to Blaine’s parents is a lost cause when they seem to be determined to dislike every aspect of him.

Robert clears his throat. “So soon?”

“We sort of thought it was a long time coming, actually…” Blaine glances over at Kurt for a moment. “We wanted to tell you in person - I know it’s a bit costly to travel to New York, but it would mean the world to us if you could come.”

Kurt wonders why his heart warms at that, the way Blaine already refers to them as us, a single unit. The moment of joy is shattered when Robert says, “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”

Blaine blinks.

“You’re so young, you have all the time in the world to make a decision like this,” Katherine says, all fake, calm poise. It’s not even bad advice, except they know what she really means.

“You mean to decide I actually want to marry a girl?”

Katherine purses her lips and looks away, answering the question without saying anything. “Like you said, it costs so much to travel up there.”

Kurt almost laughs. He knows for a fact that the Andersons aren’t hurting for money. “Are you serious?” Kurt stares at them incredulously. His own family has already started making plans for booking hotel rooms, and the date isn’t even set yet. “You’re not coming to your own son’s wedding?”

“You would go halfway around the world for Cooper’s wedding if he wanted you to,” Blaine says quietly, and they all know what goes unsaid: that if Cooper would be marrying a girl if he ever decided to settle down, and that would be acceptable. The two of them shift uncomfortably, all the confirmation they need. “Mom, Dad, come on, can’t you just be happy for me?”

“We just don’t think it’s a good idea.” Robert says.

“Why not?” Katherine’s lips press into a thin line, and Robert is as expressionless as ever. “Tell me why you won’t come to my wedding.”

“Blaine.”

“Tell me!”

“Could we please talk to you alone?”

“No.”

“We don’t want to cause a scene in front of your friend -“

Blaine stands up, still gripping Kurt’s hand. “Are you still stuck on that? He’s my fianc�e, we’ve been together five fucking years now, you know that he’s not just my ‘friend’. We’re getting married, Dad, anything you have to say you can say in front of Kurt.”

Robert huffs. “Blaine, stop this ridiculous notion, you’re not getting married.”

“He got down on one knee and I said yes, so yeah, pretty sure that’s exactly what’s happening. He gave me a ring and everything, courted me like a proper young gentleman.” Kurt rolls his eyes but can’t help but smirk, and the Andersons don’t spare a passing glance at the simple silver engagement ring.

“He proposed?” Katherine raises her eyebrows.

“Sorry to upset your heteronormative sensibilities,” Kurt mutters. Anything that makes Blaine appear more effeminate sets them off. So far, they’ve been perfectly content to cast Kurt as ‘the girl’, even though Kurt is taller and has broader shoulders than Blaine now. “Now can we get back to what’s actually important here?”

Robert scowls at him. “Kurt, please stay out of this.”

“This is my marriage, too.”

“Blaine, we would really like to speak to you alone.”

Blaine hesitates, looking at Kurt for guidance. He finally relents. “It’s ok,” Kurt says, and he kisses his fianc�e on the cheek for good measure before he lets go of Blaine’s hand and lets him follow his parents out of the room.

Even when they start shouting, Kurt can hardly understand a word of it, the way they all keep talking over each other. Once in a while, Kurt can make out Blaine’s voice, shouting things like “Face it, if Kurt were a girl you would be overjoyed” and “I’m not going to be a fucking doctor like Cooper, why can’t you just let me be happy for a change”, only for Robert to bellow over him the way he always does.

The longer it goes on the sicker Kurt feels. Just when Kurt is about to go in there and put a stop to the fighting, they all fall quiet, and Kurt hears Blaine’s footsteps stomping away.

He stands up when Blaine comes back into the room, forehead etched into a scowl, but his eyes show that this is more than a normal fight. Blaine starts gathering their things, what little they had bothered to unpack.

“Blaine, what’s going on?” An edge of panic creeps its way into Kurt’s voice. “Blaine?”

“We’re staying at a motel tonight,” he says, gruff and short.

“Okay, but -“

“Just come on.”

“Honey, calm down - here, let me help -“

“Just-“ Blaine lifts a hand, not in anger, but Kurt backs up anyway when he sees and hears how frustrated Blaine is. “Just… take these out to the car, we’re going.”

“Okay.” Kurt swallows. The entire vibe of the house has changed, and he can tell that they are no longer welcome. He just doesn’t know why, and not knowing what’s happening scares Kurt. He tries not to let it show. “But let me drive.”

“I’m fine - “

“You’re not fine, you’re shaking. Just let me, please.”

Just let me do something, anything, let me try to fix this, whatever this is -

“…okay.” Blaine lets out a shuddering breathe as Kurt picks up their bags to take to the car. Before he can leave, Blaine tugs him close and kisses him, fast and hard and possessive, and over before Kurt can think about returning it. “I love you, you know that, right?” Blaine whispers. “They can’t change that, they can’t.”

“I love you, too,” Kurt says, a little dazed. “Are… are we going to say goodbye?”

“No.”

Kurt doesn’t ask why.

They don’t speak again until they’re on the road, and though Kurt’s nerves aren’t as frazzled as Blaine’s he’s still shaken, though he doesn’t know what happened. “Are you going to tell me what they said?” He asks, glancing at his fianc�e.

Blaine grits his teeth. “Could you stop at a liquor store if you see one?”

“Don’t you have a six-pack in the trunk?”

“I need something stronger. And I’ll ask where the closest motel is.”

“…yeah, okay.”

They find one only a few minutes later, and Blaine disappears inside while Kurt sits in the car, watching through the illuminated window as Blaine pays for a cheap looking bottle of whiskey, which Kurt will not be sharing in, thank you very much. Then they’re driving again, and the silence as they follow the directions to the motel scares Kurt more than if Blaine were hysterical. It gives him no hint as to what might have happened, but it makes his stomach clench with nerves.

The motel is tiny, and cheap, and Kurt just tries not to think about how rat-infested it must be as they check in for the night. At least their room is clean, even if the drapes and bed sheets clash horribly. Blaine sits on the edge of the queen sized bed, trembling hands struggling to open his bottle. He takes a swig, then offers it to Kurt, who shakes his head.

He takes the fastest shower he can, and when he gets back to Blaine, he’s still sitting in the same place Kurt left him, staring straight ahead, the whiskey bottle a little emptier.

“We have to talk about it,” Kurt says softly. “Blaine, I need to know what happened.”

“I just want to go to sleep.”

“Blaine, talk to me.”

“Leave me alone -“

“No.” Kurt snatches the bottle from Blaine’s hand, ignoring his pitiful noise of protest, and slams it down on the desk across from the bed. A little bit of golden liquid sloshes over the rim, he ignores that too. “No. We are getting married, Blaine, or I hope we still are, so don’t start keeping secrets from me already - we’re honest with each other, right? I tell you everything, and I like to think you do too. Don’t shut me out now.”

He kneels on the floor at Blaine’s feet, taking his fianc�e’s hands and gently unfurling them from where they’re clenched into tight fists. He closes his eyes and kisses Blaine’s knuckles, and whispers, “Please, please talk to me.” Blaine’s hands shake, undetectable if Kurt couldn’t feel it. A gut-wrenching, heartbreaking sound tears itself from Blaine’s lips, and when Kurt opens his eyes, he finds Blaine crying. “Baby, please,” Kurt whispers. He can’t take this, he can’t take a single second of Blaine hurting and not knowing how to fix it.

“Th-they disowned me, Kurt.”

Kurt feels like the ground has dropped out from underneath him, only the tight grip of Blaine’s hand keeping him steady in the face of this earth-shattering thing.

“They said that - that they had indulged me long enough and I had to stop this stupid fantasy and if I was going to choose this ‘lifestyle’ then I’m not their son anymore. I’m not anything to them.”

Kurt climbs up onto the bed to sit close to Blaine, unable to think of a single thing to say - he could never, never have imagined that it would come to this. Kicking Blaine out when he still lived at home, maybe - but actual legal disownment? Never. His first instinct is to hold Blaine close, but he doesn’t know if that’s what Blaine needs. “God… Blaine, I…”

He just doesn’t know what to do. He’s never felt more helpless.

“’Lifestyle’,” Blaine mutters, “what fucking lifestyle, all I want is to marry you and get a house with a white picket fence and a dog and 2.5 kids, isn’t that what they want?” Kurt thinks that it says a lot that he doesn’t even argue about the dog. “What’s wrong with that? Why isn’t that good enough for them?” Blaine groans and rubs his eyes, smearing the tears across his cheeks. “What is so wrong with me that they would fucking disown me?”

“Cooper will talk sense into them,” Kurt reasons. He can only imagine the wrath the Andersons will face when Cooper hears about this mess. Surely he’ll say something.

Blaine snorts. “Cooper just moved in with Savannah, you know how much they hate her, that’s why he likes her. They won’t pay attention to him right now. No. It’s over.” His shoulders start to shake again, obviously trying to keep back more tears. Kurt rubs his back, right between his shoulderblades, in what he hopes is a soothing way. It’s all he can do. He can’t fix it this time.

“Nothing is wrong with you,” Kurt insists, “nothing, you are perfect, Blaine, and if they can’t see that then they don’t deserve to call you their son.”

“They’re my family,” Blaine chokes. “They were my family, they’re supposed to love me, why don’t they love me anymore?”

Kurt says nothing, because nothing he says will change a thing. Instead, he lays down on the bed, pulling Blaine with him and tugging him tight to his chest. Blaine goes as easily as a rag doll, burying his face in Kurt’s shoulder and letting himself cry, while Kurt wraps his arms around Blaine and shuts his eyes tight. Even though he feels like crying, too, he doesn’t let it show, just lays there, and lets Blaine cry, and wonders, helplessly, what he can possibly do.

Eventually, Blaine’s sobs subside, his shuddery breathing evens out, and he falls to sleep. It’s restless, and he mumbles often, but it’s sleep nonetheless. Kurt isn’t so lucky, but he kisses to top of Blaine’s hair and tries his best to sleep too, hoping that in the morning, things will make more sense.

---

When Blaine wakes up, when only the faintest dawn light is peeking through a gap in the hideous curtains, Kurt is already gathering their things to put back in the car. He sits up and rubs his eyes, and Kurt offers him a weak smile.

“We’ll go to my dad’s house,” Kurt promises. They were supposed to spend the day with Blaine’s parents, but, well. “They won’t mind us staying an extra day.” Mostly Kurt wants them out of this motel room as soon as possible, wants to get them to a place where they’re all still family, no matter what happens. To show Blaine that he does still have a family, here with them, and soon it will be official.

Assuming that Blaine still wants to go through with it. Kurt doesn’t know what he’ll do if they don’t. He’ll understand, and he’ll deal with it, but he wants to be married to Blaine more than ever before, now.

“Okay.” Blaine mumbles.

“I texted Cooper, because he wanted to know if we got into town okay, but… I didn’t tell him anything, really. I didn’t know if you would want me to. And… I tried calling your parents.” He doesn’t miss the way Blaine flinches at that. What does he call Katherine and Robert, now? Because they aren’t his parents anymore. Kurt doesn’t know what they are. “They didn’t pick up… I’m sorry.”

“It doesn’t matter; you tried. Thank you.” Blaine’s voice is hoarse and throaty from crying. His eyes hold none of the hysteria from the night before, now he just looks numb. That scares Kurt more than all the crying. He bites his lip and nods. They both know that there’s nothing to be done. It’s over.

He sits behind Blaine, wraps his arms around his fianc�es waist and rests his cheek on his shoulder, squeezing his eyes shut tight. Blaine’s hand finds Kurt’s where it lays flat on his stomach, gently stroking the skin of his knuckles.

“What can I do?” Kurt whispers, pressing a light kiss to the back of Blaine’s neck and lingering there. “I want to make this better, but I don’t know how. You have to tell me what you need from me.”

Blaine exhales slowly, relaxing back into Kurt’s embrace. “You can take me to your old room and fuck me so hard I forget my last name,” he says, and Kurt has to bite his lips to hide a little smile, because Blaine probably isn’t kidding. He hooks his chin over Blaine’s shoulder, and Blaine turns to nuzzle Kurt’s cheek, forehead resting against the side of Kurt’s head. He murmurs, “And then you can marry me.”

As if it’s the most simple thing in the world. Of course they’re still getting married. Even if not doing so could make the Andersons take Blaine back, it wouldn’t fix anything. It would only patch over the holes that have been there for years, put them out of sight while they slowly get worse and worse. This isn’t a clean break, by any means, but it’s the closest they could ever get.

So Kurt nods, kissing at the closest bit of skin he can reach, at the corner of Blaine’s lips, and says, “I can do that.”