"Oh, sorry, were you going in?"

"No, it's fine dad. You go."

"How about... we go in together?"

"Dad? It's been over two years."

"... How about we sit down?"

"Two years and we're still sitting on the same seats."

"This is where we were sitting when you told me you forgave me."

"Dad?"

"What is it, Cooper?"

"Mom hasn't been to see him in over a year. Kurt gave up weeks after that. Do you think it'll be us next? Or Blaine?"

"I think we've started to focus too much on numbers and times and dates and probabilities. We've stopped thinking about the way his eyes lit up when he smiled so that they looked like molten pools of happiness. Or how he'd always pull his hair out of his gel when he was nervous or excited, and you could only tell which he was by if his eyes were open or closed."

"And what about Toby next-door? Be honest, dad. I can't have been the only one who knew he was gay before he came out."

"You weren't."

"... The Christmas incident!"

"Oh yeah. Wow, I'd nearly forgotten about that. 2004?"

"I think so."

"He came bouncing into our room - mine and your mother's - at some ungodly hour in the morning."

"He'd already been in to wake me up."

"Seriously? The bastard... But we told him to go back to bed. Told him Santa's presents were in the house but he'd have to wait until we were ready or he'd been taken off the 'nice' list."

"So he decided to go downstairs anyway. Poked around under the tree to see if he could tell what anything was just by feel. I don't think I ever told you this, but I went down for a coffee at eight and it had already happened?"

"Really?"

"Pine needles everywhere. Tinsel shedding its glitter. Piles upon piles of broken baubles. And Blaine sitting in the middle of it all, cherubic face shaped into a surprised 'o'."

"I'm still amazed that nobody heard it."

"...can we go in now?"

"Come on."