No answer. He tried again. He checked his phone. Blaine hadn’t replied, but he knew he’d be driving, so there was no need to reply. It’s not like he said no.

But where was he?

The door handle twisted and Kurt breathed a sigh of relief, only to suck it back it when Blaine’s father appeared on the other side.

“Yes?”

“Oh. Hello!” This man was every bit as scary as his big, perfect house. He was far too smartly dressed for a Saturday morning, clean-shaven and somehow distant. Kurt saw so much of him in Blaine; thankfully it was just in his nose and eyebrows. His eyes were the exact same colour, but with none of the warmth. “Is Blaine in? I just told him I’d come over - he said he wasn’t feeling well. I’m Kurt, by the way!”, he gabbled, sticking his hand out nervously.

Mr Anderson ignored the gesture. He moved his paper into his right hand to avoid any kind of physical contact with Kurt.

“He’s fine. He will be. He has a lot of work to do; you should probably leave him to it.” He conveyed so little emotion, he couldn’t believe Blaine was his son. No wonder being so close freaked him out last night: with so little affection at home how could he be expected to deal with it anywhere else?

“Oh, don’t worry, I won’t be long. It’s just that, well, we had kind of an argument last night and I wanted to get things straight in person. You know, sometimes texting doesn’t quite cut it!” Kurt wanted to punch himself in the face. Wittering like this was one his biggest pet peeves, but he couldn’t stop. He’d only been around the man for thirty seconds and he thought he was going to cry, he couldn’t imagine living with him.

“You wanted to get things straight. Right.” Kurt couldn’t ignore the emphasis. “Well, as I said, he’s very busy. If he hasn’t got back to you, it’s probably because he doesn’t want to be disturbed. I think it’s for the best if you head home. He’s in no fit state to see anyone. Especially-“

“Especially who? Me? Sir, I care a lot about your son-“

“Exactly. It’s inappropriate for him to be around people like you. He doesn’t need you getting ideas into his head. Look around you. This is a nice town. I still don’t know why he wanted to transfer from Dalton, why he wanted to ruin his chances just for some… Phase. But I will not have you corrupting him. Now I suggest you turn around, get back in your car, and leave. My son. Alone.”

He slammed the door. Kurt didn’t know what to do. His hands were shaking with both anger and fear. He’d seen bullies before. He knew people who didn’t understand, who hated what he was. But to see that from Blaine’s dad? The man who supposed to look after him, to love him no matter what? He didn’t even notice a tear rolling down his cheek. He just took a step back from the door and tried calling Blaine.

It went straight to voicemail. Stunned into silence, he walked slowly back to the road. He couldn’t believe he was back here. Sitting in the car, not knowing what to do about Blaine. He tried calling him again, but there was still no answer. This time though, it was different. He wasn’t just upset; he was furious. He was angry with himself for not standing up to him, for not running up to Blaine’s room and making sure he was OK, for just standing there like an idiot, not fighting for the two of them. But mostly he was angry with him. That man. That man who laboured the word ‘straight’, who loved his son less just because of what he was, who kept him away from his boyfriend when they had things to sort out.

He turned the keys and sped off. He had to take his anger out on something, even if that something was his car. He needed to get home and try to get hold of Blaine.