“Have a seat, Porcelain.”

Resigning himself to his fate, Kurt seats himself with as much grace as possible on the chair in front of Coach Sylvester’s desk. Sue doesn’t say anything at first. Instead, she busies herself by digging through one of her desk drawers and yanks out an old, slightly discolored Cheerios gym bag. It lands on the desk with a heavy thunk and Kurt stares wide-eyed at the thing, expecting something to jump out and shout at him.

“Do you know what this is?” Coach Sylvester asks, leaning back in her chair and nodding to the bag on her desk.

“Can’t say I do,” Kurt replies airily.

“I’ve had this bag for years,” she explains. “I can’t actually remember when I started the stupid tradition, but this bag is used for only one thing.”

“Besides taking up unnecessary space in your desk?” Kurt quips.

Sue snaps her fingers and points at him. “Cut the sass.”

Kurt sighs and finally relaxes in his chair. “What is it, then?”

“Whenever one of my Cheerios wants to hand in the towel and quit the squad, this is the bag where I make them drop their uniforms,” she continues.

“…It’s empty,” Kurt points out unnecessarily.

“Is it?” she feigns surprise. “Hm. Must be because I haven’t had anybody quit in the last two years.”

Kurt’s spine turns stiff, causing him to sit up a little straighter in his chair.

“If you want to turn in your uniform,” Sue says. “Now would be the time.”

Shifting in his seat, Kurt can’t seem to tear his eyes away from the bag. He can feel the scratchy blend of materials on his skin now more than ever, an abrupt reminder of the work he put into his uniform and all the sacrifices he made in order to be able to wear it. It’s a poly blend safety net.

“Your silence is enough,” Coach Sylvester says, dropping the bag onto the floor behind her desk. “Now if you would be so kind as to tell me what the hell that little display in the gym was all about?”

Kurt’s hands fold into his lap, voice suddenly leaving him because Sue Sylvester is definitely the last person he wants to talk with about this issue.

“Do I need to call in Q?” she says slowly.

“No!” Kurt squeaks immediately.

Because no. Just…no. Q is Quinn Fabray, a junior like him but the captain of the Cheerios. She’s at the tippy-top. She’s the shining star. She’s the glittering diamond and the Queen of McKinley High School.

She’s also a manipulative wretch with a bleach-white smile and too much power in her eyes for such a small frame. While Sue Sylvester may be blunt, rude, and most definitely mean, Quinn Fabray is the type who’ll sneak in under your skin. She’ll win you over with her undeniably pretty face but she has this uncanny ability to make you doubt everything you knew about yourself. Quinn can make you spill every dirty detail, every private bit of your life and you won’t even realize you’re doing it. As such, Kurt does his very best to stay away from her, even at practices or on trips for away games.

He would take Sue Sylvester’s sarcasm and disdain for humanity over Q the Queen any day.

“Fair enough,” Sue says. “Explain.”

Kurt sighs, rubbing a smooth thumbnail over his bottom lip as he contemplates exactly what he’s going to say.

“I’m interested in someone that Santana doesn’t approve of,” he finally says. “That’s the issue.”

“…That’s it?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“What – I thought it was something important! Hummel, get the hell out of my office.”

“W-what? But you-”

“You made a disgusting, public display in my gymnasium; of course I called you in here. If you don’t want off my squad, then leave. I’m not going to sit here and listen to you whine about your boy troubles. Out.”

Avoiding the bullet, Kurt stands and spins quickly, ready to head out of the office without another word.

That is, until Sue Sylvester decides she still has one parting bit of advice.

“And for the love of god,” she says, “date whoever the hell you wanna date, Porcelain. High school is a miserable experience. Do something to give yourself at least a few good memories for the post-graduation, let’s-all-get-trashed-underage-and-tell-stories-we’d-rather-forget night.”

Kurt doesn’t stay to respond. He shuffles out, walking back through the halls toward the gym. On his route, however, he hears Santana’s voice drifting around a corner and once again, her words elicit anger in Kurt’s chest. She’s standing in front of Blaine, towering over him with narrow eyes and what he’s sure she perceives to be one of her most threatening expressions.

“ – like you ruin everything,” she’s saying, arms crossed, taking a step up to Blaine. “Don’t even look at him. If you do, I’ll-”

“Back. Off.”

Santana stops midsentence, turning her burning gaze on Kurt.

“I’m trying to teach him a lesson, Kurt,” she says in a deadly tone.

“Maybe it’s time you realize that your advice never leads to anything good,” Kurt says, striding over toward them both. “Go get ice cream with the rest of the squad. I’ll see you on the field before the game.”

“You can’t-”

“I can do whatever I want,” Kurt snaps. “Leave him alone. Don’t talk to him. Don’t touch him. He hasn’t done anything wrong and you don’t have the right to interfere in this. Now go.”

Kurt swears he almost sees steam coming out of her ears. Thankfully, though, she pinches her lips together, turns around, and walks away. When she’s out of sight, Kurt looks back to Blaine.

“I’m sorry,” he says immediately. “She doesn’t-”

“I don’t need a protector,” Blaine says quietly, brows furrowed and a frown on his face. He lowers his eyes.

“I – I didn’t say you needed a protector,” Kurt stutters.

Though, with Blaine being so small and so quick to angry tears, Kurt really thinks he might.

“I can take care of myself, believe it or not.”

“Are you – are you mad at me?”

Visibly deflating, Blaine’s shoulders slump and he sighs aloud in the empty hallway.

“No,” he admits. “I’m mad at her. I’m mad at people like her who think they can just walk right in and control other peoples’ lives.”

“Oh,” Kurt replies flatly. “Well. Santana’s always been like that. She doesn’t know when to-”

“Were you talking about me?” Blaine asks, cutting Kurt off. “In the gym? When you yelled? I mean, I thought you were. But I didn’t know if maybe, you know, you meant someone else or…something.”

Kurt senses the tiny sliver of hope in Blaine’s voice. He really hates that Blaine doubts his worth so easily. He doesn’t want him to give up or sell himself short.

Ever.

“Of course I was talking about you,” Kurt tells him. “She said some stuff and I just…couldn’t listen to it anymore.”

“Oh. Okay.”

It feels a bit anticlimactic, but Kurt can see the tiny twitch of Blaine’s lips as he tries not to smile. He notices how he stands a little straighter, despite the heavy weight of his ever-present backpack and the unspoken, relieved breath of air between them makes Kurt go all warm inside.

“Do you want to meet my dad?” he blurts out.

The question is so completely random, even to him. Blaine’s eyes shoot up and he stares up at Kurt with something like awe.

“B-but – we – what?”

“He’s coming to the game tonight,” Kurt explains. “I mean, I don’t know if you have any plans or anything. But it’s a really important game tonight and my dad’s coming. Something to do with qualifying for the playoffs, I don’t know. But you could – we could go to my house and you could meet him and, if you want, you could come to the game tonight.”

“…Well, my mom thinks I’m coming straight home.”

“Oh,” Kurt says, hoping he doesn’t sound too disappointed. “Right. No, it’s okay. Maybe some other-”

“I’ll call her,” Blaine says quickly, already digging in his pocket for his phone. “She can just deal with it.”

As Blaine puts the phone to his ear and turns to tell his mother where he’ll be, Kurt realizes he’s smiling broadly; it’s bright and nearly blinding, so full of joy and he has no idea what has come over him.

Too much has happened today. He had wanted to take this slow and deal with everything in small, inconspicuous chapters. But the mere thought of bringing home someone he likes, a boy he likes, to meet his father…well, it makes him sort of giddy and clouds his mind.

“She isn’t happy,” Blaine says when he turns around again. “But she said oka – why are you smiling?”

If it’s even possible, Kurt’s smile grows even wider.

“No reason.”