Come a Little Closer
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Come a Little Closer: Chapter 11


E - Words: 6,754 - Last Updated: Sep 08, 2013
Story: Closed - Chapters: 13/? - Created: Jul 21, 2013 - Updated: Sep 08, 2013
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Author's Notes: No songs in this one.As a disclaimer, I don't speak a lick of Italian, so if it's wrong, I'm so sorry. If someone does, leave a comment and let me know and I'll edit it.Another note: I know the situation in Syria is probably not going to be relevant in two months, so if you could all just suspend your disbelief on that point, that'd be great. Thanks. :PThe next one is going to be another time jump, so Christmas, yay! My favorite holiday. It's going to be wonderful and hopefully happy and not angsty, and it's probably going to take me at least two weeks to write, so I'm sorry for that.Leave comments, please, positive or negative. I love them so, so much. It tells me that people are actually reading and not just clicking on the chapters and hating it. XP

The Fasten Seatbelt sign flicked on as the pilot announced that they would soon be touching down in Columbus. Kurt pulled his headphones out of his ears and leaned over to wake Blaine. He was lying at an awkward angle with his face mashed against the seat and his mouth wide open.

Though the day before Thanksgiving was technically a school day, professors at NYADA had a long history of cancelling class spouting the woes of holiday travelling in New York as the basis. Rachel had learned that the year before, so in anticipation, she, Kurt, and Blaine had booked a flight to Ohio early on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving to save money and maximize on the time they had to spend in Ohio.

Kurt smiled adoringly at Blaine. Never having been a morning person, Blaine had slept for the entire three hour flight, nodding off as soon as the plane had taken off. Kurt leaned close to Blaine's ear and whispered, "Wake up."

Blaine didn't stir. Kurt reached up and brushed a curl away from his boyfriend's face. "Blaine, baby, it's time to get up."

Blaine pressed his face into Kurt's open palm and muttered something unintelligible.

"Blaine, get up!" Rachel shouted from his other side as she hit him in the head with her neck pillow.

He started awake, looking around. "What—?"

"Rachel, that wasn't very nice," Kurt said, glaring at her from over Blaine's head.

"It worked, didn't it? Besides, we don't have time for Blaine's 'I'm not a morning person' routine. Burt and Carol will be waiting for us."

Kurt made a face at her but had to concede she was right. The plane had landed and pretty soon it would be time for them to disembark.

Blaine sank back into his chair shielding his eyes from the morning light streaming through the window beside Rachel. "I need coffee," he groaned.

Kurt laughed. "I know. We'll get some as soon as we leave the airport, I promise."

A few minutes later, the seatbelt sign shut off and people began rising to collect their bags. Kurt being in the aisle seat took charge of collecting all their bags from the overhead compartment while Rachel and Blaine stood and stretched.

Kurt passed Rachel her purse and Blaine his laptop case and duffle bag, pulling his own shoulder and duffle bags on.

"Thank you, baby," Blaine mumbled, eyes still puffy from sleep.

In reply, Kurt reached out and grabbed Blaine's hand, and they began to trail off of the plane.

When they got to baggage claim, they stood waiting for Rachel's hot pink suitcase to appear. Kurt rolled his eyes when it finally showed itself. "Rachel, I can't believe you brought a suitcase. We're only going to be here for four days. Don't you have any clothes at home?"

Rachel glared at Kurt as she pulled the handle up and they began to walk. "Five days, four nights, and all I have here are animal sweaters and pleated skirts."

He was about to reply when he registered the pressure of Blaine's hand in his. He looked down at his boyfriend and noticed the tension on his face. He certainly seemed wide awake now. "Hey, what's wrong?" he asked.

"What? Nothing," Blaine answered too quickly.

Kurt pulled him to a stop. Port Columbus wasn't very big and as much as Kurt felt a physical pull towards his father and stepmother who were no doubt only a few hundred feet away, he needed Blaine to be okay before they all met. He wanted this part to go as smoothly as possible.

"Blaine, stop worrying, okay? They're going to love you."

"What if they don't?" Blaine asked in a small voice. "Kurt, they mean everything to you, what if–?"

Kurt cut him off with a quick kiss. He was a little nervous about showing so much physical affection in public – they definitely weren't in New York anymore – but Blaine needed him, and that was more important than the tiny pocket of discomfort in his stomach. He wanted until he felt some of the tension melt away from Blaine's smaller frame before pulling away.

"Stop. They are completely harmless and wonderful, and they will adore you just as much as I do. And even if they don't, it won't change how I feel about you one bit. Okay?"

Rachel hadn't noticed that they had stopped walking until she was about thirty feet in front of them. "Come on, slowpokes!" she called.

Kurt just stood looking into Blaine's anxious eyes until he replied. "Okay," Blaine finally said.

Nodding, Kurt pulled on Blaine's hand and they began walking towards the terminal exit.

They rounded a corner and Kurt caught sight of his dad's worn out brown baseball cap. He had planned on staying with Blaine until they reached his parents and introduce them properly, but when he saw his dad, something inside Kurt just snapped.

He had tried to bury how much he'd missed his father the last couple of months, but seeing his dad across the crowded airport terminal brought it all up. His homesickness washed over him like a physical blow. He dropped Blaine's hand and took off in a run. "Dad!" he called, launching himself into his father's arms.

Kurt's weight nearly knocked his father off balance, but he steadied them both just like he always had. Tears pricked Kurt's eyes as he felt his father's arm around him, solid and warm. He breathed his father in, the old familiar scent of laundry detergent and a hint of motor oil that he could never quite wash off.

"I missed you so much, dad." His words were muffled by his father's plaid shirt.

"Missed you, too, bud," Burt replied, his voice rough.

After a few more seconds, Burt squeezed Kurt tightly one more time and then let him go. Kurt sniffed lightly and looked over at his step-mother. She was releasing Rachel from a hug. Kurt and Rachel swapped places, Rachel hugging Burt and Kurt wrapping Carol in his arms.

Kurt sighed as he released her. Being reunited with his parents felt like lifting a giant weight off of his shoulders that he hadn't known was there until it was gone.

He turned around to face Blaine, who was smiling fondly them. He reached he hand out and Blaine took it immediately. "Dad, Carol, I want you to meet Blaine. Blaine, this is my dad and my step-mom."

Kurt was just a little apprehensive as Blaine stepped forward and released Kurt's hand to shake his father's, but he hadn't been lying to Blaine. He knew his parents were going to love him.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Hummel," Blaine said with a charming smile.

"You, too. May as well get used to callin' me Burt, kid." Kurt watched his father closely, searching for any hidden thoughts behind his thoughtful eyes, but he saw only warmth.

Blaine nodded. "Yes, sir," he said.

Blaine then turned to Carol, sticking out his hand. "Oh, come here," Carol said, wrapping Blaine in an embrace. "We've heard so much about you, Blaine."

He laughed. "I've heard a lot about you, too, Mrs. –"

"Oh, don't you dare. It's Carol, honey."

"Carol," he obliged with a smile.

She released Blaine and Burt said, "Alright, we should probably get a move on. Get everyone settled in."

Kurt linked his arm with Blaine's and they all took off toward the exit.


About a half hour later, Carol's SUV pulled up to the Anderson house and Kurt nearly audibly gasped. "Blaine..." he said, looking at his boyfriend with wide eyes.

"Yes?" Blaine asked absently. He was searching the seat around him.

"Your house." It was...massive. It was maybe a few steps away from being a mansion. Kurt would seriously think someone famous lived there if he didn't know any better.

"Yeah, baby, I know. I'm just trying to find my phone," Blaine replied.

Kurt knew Blaine's family had money. They had been making out on Blaine's couch a few weeks before when Kurt had finally asked a question that had been on his mind for a while. "Blaine, can I ask you something?"

"Of course," Blaine replied, nipping at Kurt's ear.

"How can you afford this apartment? I know it's kind of an improper question," he said in a rush. "You don't have to tell me if it makes you uncomfortable."

Blaine chuckled. "You can ask me anything," he replied. Blaine trailed his fingers softly up Kurt's side, making him shiver. "And my parents pay for this apartment."

Kurt had figured as much. He knew Blaine didn't have a job, but an apartment on the Upper West Side would be expensive if it was the only place someone had to pay for, and Blaine's parents obviously had their own home and bills. Blaine parents must have been loaded.

"So, uh, they must be pretty, um..." Kurt tried to find a delicate way to put it.

Blaine laughed. "My mom's a pharmacist and my dad works in business, not to mention he has some family money. Yeah, they're pretty well off, as they say."

Kurt hadn't known what to say to that, so he had captured Blaine's smiling lips with his own, and they had melted into a deeper kiss and even some heavy petting...

His mind returned to the present and he continued staring open-mouthed at Blaine's three story house that was at least three times the size of his dad's. He glanced at the other faces in the car and saw varying degrees of his own expression on everyone else's face.

"Kurt, can you help me find it, please?" Blaine asked. He was now leaned far down, searching under the seat.

"What?" Kurt replied blankly.

"My phone. I had it earlier, but now I can't find it."

Kurt blinked. "Oh, I have it." He pulled Blaine's phone out of his jacket pocket. "You were about to sit on it, so I rescued it from its third new screen in six months."

"Seriously? I've been looking for it for like five minutes," Blaine said with half-hearted indignation.

Blaine reached for his phone but Kurt snatched it away. "And by that you mean, 'Thank you, Kurt, for saving my phone. You're the best boyfriend ever.'"

Blaine reached for his phone but Kurt held it out of reach, raising his eyebrows expectantly. Blaine sighed dramatically and gave Kurt a sugary sweet smile. "Thank you, Kurt, for saving my phone. You're the best boyfriend ever," he recited.

"I don't appreciate your sarcasm, Blaine Warbler," Kurt replied, but he handed Blaine his phone.

Blaine wrinkled his nose at Kurt before opening the door and climbing out of the car. Kurt followed him out, and both boys walked around to the back to retrieve Blaine's bags.

Kurt shouldered Blaine's laptop case and Blaine grabbed his duffel bag. As they passed the front of the car, Carol rolled down the driver's side window. "Goodbye, honey. We'll see you at the house tomorrow evening, right?"

Blaine smiled widely. "Absolutely."

"Bye, Blainey!" Rachel called from the backseat, waving wildly.

"Bye, Rach. Mr. and Mrs.—I mean, Carol, Burt. Thank you so much for the ride."

"Anytime," Burt called, giving Blaine a small wave.

Blaine waved to them and then grabbed Kurt's hand. Together they walked to Blaine's front door.

When they reached large, heavy looking front door, they stopped and Kurt looked down at his boyfriend.

He stared into Blaine's eyes for a few long seconds before grinning and saying, "Your house is huge."

"What?" Blaine glanced at his house quickly. "Oh, I guess so."

Kurt hedged not wanting to say goodbye. "So, I guess I'll see you tomorrow?"

Blaine nodded. "You'll be here at eleven, right?"

"Right," Kurt replied.

He and Blaine actually had a pretty easy time of fitting both of their families into their Thanksgiving plans. Blaine's parents had an enormous catered Thanksgiving lunch for some of Blaine's father's business partners which Kurt would be attending the next day. Blaine would then be coming back with Kurt to his house for his family's more intimate Thanksgiving dinner, prepared by Carol and himself.

They were going to eat way too much food, but then wasn't that the nature of the holiday?

Blaine dug his keys out of his pocket. "Okay, well..."

Kurt laughed. He leaned forward and grabbing Blaine's face with his hands, he planted his lips on Blaine's in a short but passionate kiss. "Bye," he said with a smile.

Blaine smiled back. "Bye."

Kurt turned and began walking back to the car.

"Kurt!"

He turned around. "Yeah?"

"My bag," Blaine said, gesturing to Kurt's shoulder.

"Oh!" Kurt turned and hurried back to Blaine, handing over his laptop case.

When he turned around again, Blaine grabbed his hand, pulling him back. "Just one more thing..." Blaine murmured, pulling Kurt into another kiss. Kurt closed his eyes, relishing the feel of his boyfriend's mouth on his for a second.

Kurt pulled away. "I have to go," he said, smiling.

Blaine tugged on his hand. "But I have something very important –" He pulled Kurt into another kiss.

Kurt laughed against Blaine's mouth. "Blaine," he said, muffled against Blaine's lips.

Blaine pulled away but didn't release Kurt's hand and after sighing dramatically, said, "Fine."

"I'll see you tomorrow, you drama queen," Kurt quipped.

Blaine made a playful face. "Well, just leave, then."

"Fine," Kurt answered, tugging on his hand, smiling.

Blaine finally let go of Kurt's hand. "Fine," he said loudly.

Kurt began walking toward the car, shooting a quick smile over his shoulder. Blaine was watching him walk away. Only when Kurt climbed into the car did Blaine turn around, push the key into the lock and swing the door open wide.


"Mom! Dad!" Blaine called when he entered the house. Silence greeted him. Setting his duffle bag down on a side table, he crossed through the large parlor that they never used and into the kitchen. Though he knew to expect it, it didn't stop the disappointment from washing over him as he read his mother's note.

Blaine,

Welcome home! Sorry we couldn't be here when you arrived, but Dad and I went to deal with the caterers to get everything situated for tomorrow.

Teresa should be there around ten and we'll be home by noon.

Love,

Mom

Sighing, Blaine dropped the note back on the counter and turned around, heading back through the house toward the stairs. His parents were in Columbus and they couldn't pick him up from the airport? When he'd asked, his mom had said she and his father had "important things to do."

As he climbed the stairs, Blaine thought with a pang in his chest of Kurt's warm reunion with his dad and stepmom. His burly father had been close to tears hugging his son, and Carol had treated Kurt as though she'd loved him forever, even though Blaine knew that she had only been married to Kurt's father a little over two years.

Blaine couldn't ever remember his parents treating him with that much open, unadulterated love.

Finally reaching his room, Blaine pushed open the door. It hadn't changed a bit since he'd left almost six months before. Somehow it felt...different. He knew that wasn't the case, that he himself was different. Still, he sat his laptop case on his neatly made bed and felt like he was in a stranger's room.

He hadn't liked the Blaine that lived in this room. He was insecure and really sad inside and he'd had no one to care about. He sat down on the corner of the bed gingerly, and felt the silence of the huge, empty house settle around him like a heavy weight. Blaine loved his parents, but this house was toxic.

Blaine felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He reached in and grabbed it, opening Kurt's text with practiced ease. So, you were a huge hit with my parents. The words "charming," "handsome" and "well-mannered" are being thrown around.

He smiled. Kurt could always make him feel better. Wow, I've really fooled them. You haven't told them of my wicked intentions for their son, have you?

He waited patiently for Kurt's quick reply. No need. Rachel's got you covered. She's trying to convince them of what a scoundrel you are, but I don't think they believe her.

Blaine laughed. I'm sure she is. Do YOU think I'm a scoundrel? he quickly thumbed out.

Kurt's next reply came even quicker than his previous one. No, I KNOW you're a scoundrel. I've seen the things you can do with your tongue.

Grinning, Blaine scooted back on the bed and lounged against the pillows. He would flirt with his boyfriend and maybe take a nap, and in a little more than twenty-four hours, Kurt would be there and everything would feel better. There was no way even this house could touch Kurt's light.


Kurt's hands were gripping the steering wheel tightly as he navigated his car onto the curb in front of Blaine's house.

He was about three minutes from meeting the Andersons, and Kurt was pretty much terrified. He had done nothing but freak out about meeting his boyfriend's parents for the hour and a half drive from Lima, and even though he knew he was being silly and acting just like Blaine had been yesterday, it didn't do anything to quell his nerves.

And anyway, it wasn't exactly the same situation. Kurt knew Burt and Carol were going to love Blaine. They loved easily and Blaine was easy to love. It was no question. But from what Kurt had gleaned from Blaine about his parents, they weren't exactly the warmest people.

Recalling the words he himself had said to Blaine the day before, Kurt decided that it didn't matter if Blaine's parents liked him.

Plucking up his courage, Kurt cut the engine and climbed out of the car. He made his way quickly up the driveway, taking stock again of Blaine's huge house. He couldn't imagine what three people – well, four including Blaine's older brother – needed with so much space.

Kurt knocked on the door with three sharp raps before noticing the doorbell to the right of the door frame. Living in New York had made him forget suburban decorum, apparently. Slightly embarrassing, he wondered if he should press the little white button or if that would seem too aggressive.

The door opened before Kurt could decide, and he saw a small middle-aged Italian woman standing in the doorway. Surprised, he stuttered out, "Um, hi. I'm Kurt Hummel. I'm here to see –"

"Sí, come in," she said in heavily accented English. The woman, apparently the Andersons' housekeeper judging by her clothes, led Kurt into a big and impeccably decorated sitting room. "You can wait in the parlor. Mr. Anderson will be right with you."

"Oh, okay," Kurt said, nonplussed. Kurt chose one of the smaller chairs over the rather formidable looking couch and sat down gingerly. "Thank you – I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"Mi chiamo Teresa," she responded.

"Teresa?" She nodded. "Well, thank you, Teresa. It was nice to meet you," Kurt said, smiling at the older woman.

"Piacere mio, Mr. Hummel. And you as well," she said, turning and walking out of the room.

Raising his eyebrows, Kurt took stock of the room he was in. The furniture was obviously expensive and the color cohesion screamed Interior Decorator. Still, he wouldn't trade this cold, empty room for the soft, mismatched furniture of his own living room in a million years.

He crossed his legs and then re-crossed them the other way. He suddenly felt ridiculous. He was Blaine's boyfriend, for goodness sake. Why the hell was he sitting in the parlor? Why couldn't he just go up to Blaine's room? But he didn't know where Blaine's room was and he'd no doubt get lost in this maze of a house.

Frustrated, he pulled out his phone and sent Blaine a text. I'm currently stranded in your big, scary parlor with an evil witch named Teresa guarding the doorway! Come rescue me, please!

After a minute passed and Blaine didn't answer, Kurt stood and tried to peak out of the doorway. He wished Teresa actually were guarding it, because at least then he would have someone to talk to or he could ask her to go get Blaine or something.

"Hello?" Kurt called tentatively. "Blaine? Teresa?" The only sound Kurt could hear was a grandfather clock ticking at the end of a hallway. Seriously? Kurt knew at least Teresa was here, and Blaine had better be here somewhere. How was this house so freaking quiet?

The Little Ms. Manners inside Kurt told him he should stay in the parlor and wait for someone to retrieve him and that he had already made one social faux pas, but his inner diva shoved that bitch in a closet. He was not about to sit here and wait forever, not to mention that fact that Blaine had obviously told the housekeeper he was coming and that he should be sent to the parlor. He wasn't a damn vacuum salesman.

"Helloooo?" Kurt called again. He began walking slowly down the hallway, not wanting to startle anyone he did happen upon. "Is anyone here?"

He was now near the end of the hallway. He saw now that it turned to the left. He was about to turn around and find another way when he heard voices. There was a door at the end of the hallway with a crack in it, and he distinctly heard Blaine's voice on the other side. It was muffled and Kurt realized the big wooden doors were the reason the house seemed so quiet. He moved a little closer to the door, but stopped when he could make out Blaine's words.

"...tell me exactly what you're trying to say, Dad, because I'm not sure I'm getting it." There was a lot of tension in Blaine's voice. Kurt didn't think he'd ever taken a tone like that with his own father. He may have been indignant, especially in some of his moodier teen years, but never...hostile.

"Don't be petulant, Blaine. You know exactly what I'm saying." Blaine's father's voice was deeper than Blaine's, but there was something there that Kurt recognized. A timber or an inflection, something that reminded him of his boyfriend. Kurt wondered mildly if they also looked alike.

"What I think you're saying is that you want me to hide that fact that Kurt's my boyfriend in front of all of your friends, but surely that can't be right, can it?" Kurt was trying to decide if he should interrupt and knock on the door when he heard his name. He knew he shouldn't be eavesdropping, but he couldn't help it. He leaned closer to hear Mr. Anderson's response.

"Why do you always have to dramatize everything? I'm not asking you to hide it, I'm just asking you not to broadcast it in front of my business partners. I don't feel like that's an unreasonable request." Blaine's father didn't sound cold to Kurt, he just sounded weary.

Blaine was getting even more defensive, his voice rising with every word. Soon, Kurt didn't have to strain his ears at all to hear him. "Yeah, you wouldn't. You don't understand that what you're asking is for me to be someone other than who I am so that your friends won't be a little uncomfortable. Why did you even say he could come, since you clearly don't want him here?" Kurt flinched.

"I never said I don't want him here, Blaine. Would you stop trying to make me the bad guy? I just want everything to go smoothly."

A loud sound erupted from the room, like a chair screeching across the floor. "How is my sexuality going to make things not go smoothly, Dad?" Blaine said. "Do you think I'm just going to bend Kurt over the table and fuck him in front of everyone?"

"Blaine, language!" his father yelled.

There was silence for a few beats, when Blaine finally said steadily, "You know what? I'm not a kid anymore, and I don't have to put up with this. I am not going to explain to my boyfriend that I can't so much as hold his hand in my home because my father is a bigot."

"That is not fair –"

"I'm leaving," Blaine interrupted. "I'm going to go spend the rest of my break with Kurt and his family, who – for the record – would never ask Kurt to be anything but exactly who he is. Not for anybody."

"Blaine!" Mr. Anderson shouted. The door swung open widely and Kurt stood frozen in the light spilling from the room.

"Kurt?" Blaine asked, the furious look on his face shifting to one of befuddlement.

"I'm so sorry," Kurt said quickly. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop, I just, I – I heard your voice and I was just looking for you because you never came and –"

"It's okay," Blaine said. He grabbed Kurt's hand. "Come on, let's go up to my room."

Blaine began leading Kurt down the hallway, but Kurt turned to glance over his shoulder before they rounded the corner. He saw Mr. Anderson, Blaine's father, leaning on a big desk with his head in his hands. He ran a hand through his dark hair in a gesture that was so achingly Blaine that Kurt nearly lost his breath.

"When did you get here? I didn't hear the doorbell," Blaine said.

Kurt yanked his gaze away from Blaine's father and looked at his boyfriend. "What? Oh, I didn't ring it. I knocked and Teresa let me in and told me to wait for you in the parlor."

"She sent you to the parlor? Teresa!" Blaine had just caught sight of the small woman at the top of the stairs. "Why did you send Kurt to the parlor? I told you to bring him to me or yell for me when he got here."

Teresa looked at Blaine like he was a cute but misbehaving toddler. "You were busy, cucciola mia. I thought it would be improper to bring him to a war zone."

Blaine smiled at her wistfully. "If you wanted to wait until my father and I weren't arguing, he would have starved to death in there."

Teresa smiled back at him. She flicked her eyes to Kurt and said, "Mi piace un sacco. Lui è un ragazzo bello e educato."

"Sí, lui è molto," Blaine replied in fluent Italian.

Kurt looked at him quizzically, but Blaine just pulled Kurt up the stairs past Teresa down to the third door in the hallway. "You speak Italian?" Kurt asked.

"Yeah, Teresa taught me. She's been around since before I was born." Blaine closed the door behind them and Kurt let his eyes scan Blaine's room quickly before returning to his boyfriend's face.

"How did I not know that?"

"You don't know everything about me, Mr. Hummel," Blaine replied. He leaned in closer to Kurt's face, looking deep into his eyes.

Kurt swallowed. "What did she say about me?"

Blaine's mouth quirked up on one side. "That you're handsome and polite."

"Nuh-uh."

"Scout's honor."

Kurt let his eyes trail down to trace the contours of Blaine's lips. "Do you want to talk about what just happened with you dad?" he asked hesitantly.

"No," Blaine answered immediately.

"Blaine, I don't want to cause problems between you and your family. If you need me to go and come back to get you after lunch—"

"Kurt, no. That wasn't really about you. That was just my father being my father."

"But—"

"Please, can we just go spend Thanksgiving with your family? I can't be here right now," Blaine said. He had responded to his father in anger and he was acting blasé about their fight, but Kurt could see the pain in Blaine's eyes.

"Okay," Kurt answered.

Blaine moved his lips closer to Kurt's until they were barely a centimeter apart. "Senza di te non sono niente," he said softly.

Kurt gasped as Blaine closed the distance between their lips.

He inhaled Blaine's exhale and wrapped his arms around Blaine's neck. Blaine sucked Kurt's bottom lip into his mouth and bit down on it gently. Kurt moaned into Blaine's mouth, pressing their bodies close.

Kurt felt as Blaine reached his free hand around Kurt and shoved it into Kurt's very tight back pocket, gripping his ass firmly through the fabric.

Kurt gave in for a few more seconds before pulling his mouth away from his boyfriend's. "If we're going to go we need to leave now before people start showing up," he said somewhat shakily.

Blaine groaned, burying his head in Kurt's shoulder. "You're right," he said, muffled into Kurt's shirt.

Kurt moved his arms back down to his sides, pulling Blaine's hand out of his pocket. "Come on, before your dad comes back for round two."

With a sigh, Blaine released Kurt to gather his things.


"Absolutely not. Absolutely not," Carol said loudly over Burt.

"Carol, all I'm saying is that maybe it isn't our place to interfere in the affairs of other countries. You can't save everybody," Burt replied.

"Does that mean you shouldn't try, dad?" Kurt said, his face slightly red. "They were using chemical weapons on innocent people, on children."

"No, I agree with Burt," Finn said around a mouthful of pumpkin pie. "It's not really any of our business."

"Finn, don't talk with your mouth full," Carol admonished.

Blaine sat back in his chair watching the Hudson-Hummel family volley comments over the overflowing dining room table. There were mostly-empty serving dishes of all the Thanksgiving staple foods and Blaine had eaten until he could barely move.

Kurt and Carol's Thanksgiving dinner was so much better than the catered lunch his parents always had on the holiday. Blaine had barely been able to contain himself. Since he and Kurt had started dating, he had gone from existing solely on takeout to a few meals a week that Kurt cooked, but Kurt was always insisting they eat healthy.

When Blaine went for his third helping of mashed potatoes, Kurt side-eyed him, but didn't say anything, which Blaine took as acquiescence to gorge himself.

Not only was the food amazing, but Blaine was pleasantly surprised by the atmosphere of dinner with Kurt's family. It was full of life, passion, and laughter, so different from the stiff, polite conversations of meals from his own childhood.

The conversation had flowed effortlessly from philosophy to religion to pop culture to where it was now – politics. Blaine was almost dizzy trying to keep up.

"What does that even mean? 'Our business'?" Kurt asked pointedly.

Everyone but Finn had finished eating. Finn glanced at his mother and swallowed his food before speaking. "I just mean, like, they weren't doing anything to Americans."

"Oh, and I guess people who aren't Americans don't matter, regardless of whether or not they were completely innocent? Who cares if some brown people die, right?" Kurt said acerbically, glaring at Finn.

Finn widened his eyes at Kurt's tone and Blaine almost busted out laughing at his bewildered expression.

"Now, Kurt, you know that's not what Finn meant," Burt said judiciously. "He was just saying that there's all kinds of bad stuff going on in the world, and of course it's important to be humanitarian, but this is more than that. Our response to this issue is going to set a precedent, ya know? You can't just ignore the political aspect of politics."

Carol interjected before Kurt could reply. "Alright, boys. That's enough. Finn's going to explode if we let him eat another piece of pie, and that would be unfortunate because then he wouldn't be able to clean up."

Finn groaned. "Mom, I can barely move."

"C'mon, buddy, you know the rule. Kurt and Carol did all the cooking, so we gotta clean up," Burt said, clapping Finn on the shoulder.

Burt stood up, gathering his and Carol's plates in his hands.

Finn groaned again but stood and helped Burt gather some dishes.

"I'll help, too," Blaine said, standing.

"Don't be silly," Carol said, swatting his arm. "You're a guest. Kurt, honey, why don't you take Blaine to the living room and you boys can watch a movie or something while you let your food digest."

"I really don't mind," Blaine said, but Kurt stood up and grabbed his arm, steering him towards the living room.

"You heard the woman," Kurt said.

The boys settled onto the couch with Kurt sitting up and Blaine lying down with his head in Kurt's lap. Blaine rubbed his stomach and groaned as Kurt reached for the TV remote.

"Check the score on the game, would ya?" Burt yelled from the kitchen.

Kurt raised his eyebrows at Blaine. Blaine chuckled. "CBS, Ravens versus Steelers."

"Oh," Kurt said, flipping to the appropriate channel. "What's the score?" he asked Blaine.

"Kurt, it's right there on the screen," he replied.

"I can't tell! There are a bunch of numbers," Kurt said.

Blaine just shook his head and said, "It's six to fourteen. The Steelers are up by eight."

"The Steelers are up by eight!" Kurt parroted loudly so his father could here.

"Yes!" Blaine heard Finn shout from the kitchen.

Kurt immediately changed the channel to TLC and sat the remote down beside him. He threaded his fingers through Blaine's hair and began massaging his scalp slowly.

"Mmmm," Blaine hummed, closing his eyes. "I ate way too much," he said.

"I know," Kurt replied. Blaine could hear the smile in his voice. "Did you have three or four helpings of mashed potatoes?"

"Three," Blaine said indignantly. "I couldn't help myself. You and Carol are excellent cooks."

Kurt laughed. "Thanks."

The boys settled into silence, and Blaine listened absently to the women on the screen judging the wedding dress their friend was trying on. His full stomach and Kurt's fingers running through his hair had him nearly falling asleep.

"Blaine?" Kurt asked softly after a few minutes.

"Hmm?" Blaine answered sleepily.

"Will you talk to me about what happened with your dad today?"

Though his eyes stayed closed, Blaine was suddenly wide awake. There was a hesitation in Kurt's voice that made Blaine's heart hurt. Blaine knew Kurt should be able to ask him about anything without fear of Blaine's reaction, but years of antagonism with his father put Blaine on edge when discussing their relationship. It was an old habit he couldn't just overcome easily.

"What do you want me to say, Kurt?" Blaine said evenly.

Kurt's hands stilled in Blaine's hair. "I don't know, Blaine. I just want you to open up to me. You don't have to pretend that nothing touches you, not with me."

Blaine opened his eyes slowly and looked up into his boyfriend's ocean blue ones.

He let his eyes fall down to his hand splayed open on his stomach. "It is what it is," he said finally, resigned. "My father is who he is. I'm never going to be good enough for him, so I decided a long time ago to just stop trying to be."

"No, you haven't."

Blaine's eyes shot up to meet Kurt's. "What?"

"You haven't stopped trying to be good enough for him."

Blaine sat up, spinning to face Kurt. "Yeah, I have," he said forcefully.

"You think I don't see how hard you are on yourself for making the smallest mistakes, Blaine? You beat yourself up all the time for not being perfect, for missing one note or forgetting a dance step. It's like you've internalized all of your father's criticism and you lash out at yourself more than he ever could."

Blaine clenched his jaw. The glaring truth of Kurt's words cut deep. "You just don't get it, Kurt. Your relationship with your dad is so different from mine. You could never understand what it's like to not have his approval to just be who I am."

"You're right," Kurt said. He reached out and grabbed Blaine's hand with his own. Blaine's first instinct was to snatch it away, but he resisted. "My dad has always encouraged me to be exactly who I am. But your dad loves you, Blaine. Yes, he clearly doesn't express it in the right way, but he just wants what's best for you."

"He wants me to be straight. How is that wanting what's best for me?" Blaine ran the hand that wasn't holding Kurt's through his curls.

"Try to see it from his point of view. Being gay is something that in your father's eyes is a limitation. People are always going to judge you for it. He doesn't think there's something wrong with you and he doesn't love you any less. He just wants you to have every possible opportunity."

Blaine knew Kurt was right. It didn't make his dad's behavior fair or right, but it did make it...more understandable. More forgivable. And it made Blaine feel better. Everything Kurt did made Blaine feel better. "How could you know all that from overhearing part of one fight?"

Kurt smiled. "Because I know you. There's no way anyone could not love you." Blaine eyebrows rose. Was Kurt implying... "You need to talk to him," Kurt continued before Blaine could finish his thought. "Maybe not now necessarily, but whenever you feel more comfortable."

"I know," Blaine said. "And I will." He wrapped his arms around Kurt's middle, letting himself sink into his boyfriend's embrace. "Thank you, Kurt," he said as earnestly as he could.

"Hey." Using his index finger, Kurt tipped Blaine's face up until it was level with his own. "Anytime," he said, placing a gentle kiss on Blaine's lips.


Kurt pushed open his apartment door with a giant huff, carrying his heavy bag into the living room and setting it down on the coffee table. Rachel came in behind him, struggling considerably with her own luggage.

He plopped himself down on the couch, trailing his eyes around the familiar walls while fingering his keys absentmindedly.

Rachel dropped her own bags haphazardly and sat next to Kurt. "So, what did you think?" she asked.

"About what?" Kurt said. His eyes focused on a black and white picture of all the glee club kids from his senior year. It was taken the day they won nationals.

"About going back home."

Kurt contemplated his answer. He thought back on seeing his family, his parents and his brother, for the first time in months. He then thought about Friday, which he had spent with Rachel, Mercedes, Santana, and Tina at the mall, catching up and doing some Christmas shopping and then last night when everyone from glee club got together at Rachel's house. A lump formed in his throat when he remembered how long it was going to be before he saw them again. He had forgotten how much he'd missed them until he'd seen them.

But then Kurt thought of how...foreign it felt to be back in Ohio, in his old room. The thing about Lima is that it never changed, and Kurt felt like he himself was so completely different than when he was living in Lima. His room had felt like a hotel room instead of the place he had spent the majority of his time for years of his life.

And there was something else about Ohio that would always make it stand apart from New York – the stares. The judgment from strangers. People side-eying him for having perfect hair and fashionable clothes. He had not once since they'd started dating hesitated to hold Blaine's hand in public until he was in public in Ohio. Being back there was like being under a microscope. Despite the smog, getting off the plane in New York felt like taking a breath of fresh air.

"It was...a lot different than I expected," he answered finally. "It was nice seeing everyone but...I guess I don't feel like Lima is home anymore. I felt like we were just visitors there, and this is our home now."

"Yeah, me too," Rachel said. "It just felt so small, didn't it?"

Kurt nodded. "Does it make me a terrible person if I say I'm glad we can't afford to go back for Christmas?"

"If it does we'll have to be terrible people together."


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