Standing at airport in Lima makes me feel uneasy. I feel like everyone is judging me, because of what I am. Sure, I get that at school too, but I'm not alone there. I have friends who couldn't care less. Yet, here I am, alone. Well, that's what I keep thinking, but then there he is, talking away and I can't help but smile; though I could do with him shutting up for a few minutes. He's been like this since the plane touched land and he was fidgeting all the way here, too. He may deny it, but I know it's because he's nervous. I know Blaine, and I know he wants to make a good first impression with my dad. I know he wants to make him see that he's good for me and I think it's adorable, even if now he's at the stage of rambling about nothing at all. I've zoned out and I'm only picking up every couple of words but I'm sure he just mentioned "psychopath" and "llama" in the same sentence. I take a quick look around and take his hands into mine. 

"Blaine honey I love you but can you please shut up." he pouts at me and goes to respond but I get there before him knowing what he's going to say.
"I know you're nervous –" 
"I'm not!" he tries to protest.
"Don't try to deny it. You're going to be fine, my dad is going to love you just like I do," I pause, "Well, hopefully not just like I do, but please calm down." He takes a deep breath and jerkily nods. 
"Good," I plant a small kiss on his lips because do you know what? To hell with Lima, to hell with Ohio and to hell with the homophobic assholes here. I'm a super, for god sake, I should be allowed to kiss my boyfriend like someone can kiss their girlfriend and if anyone has a problem, I always have the option of going all wolf on their ass. Blaine seems to relax a little, after that, and focuses all of his attention on getting out luggage. Most people are also looking for their bags or making their way out of the airport and there’s only one couple looking a little disgusted. I shrug it off; I've had a lot worse. 

"Right, right, sorry."
"It's fine," Blaine smiles and I'm relieved to see some of his nerves melting. 
"Grab your stuff and we'll head home." 
On our way to the car, I can't resist leaning over and whispering to Blaine, "I told you he'd like you."
He blushes a little, "I think he may have broken my spine."
I can't hold my laugh in.

We walk into the house and I have missed this place; the smell of coffee and clean linen, the sound of whatever sports game is on coming from the TV, the pictures on the walls of the family, us and my mom. It's like one giant flashback as all of the memories hit me. 
"I've set the sofa bed up in your room for Blaine to sleep on, so you can show him where that is," my dad settles into his arm chair, eyes focused on the TV. 
I look at him in surprise. 
"You're… letting him stay in my room?" Burt turns the game down.
"You share a room with him, right?"
"Uh, yeah I do bu-"
"Well, I guess whatever is going to happen has already happened whether I like it or not," I'm dumbfounded, "but…"
Of course there's a 'but'. 
"I don't want any funny business going on while you're here, under my roof. I hope you're being safe and using… everything you should be using, and he better not be pressuring you. You matter, Kurt." 
My cheeks are so red that I'm sure Blaine can feel the heat radiating off of them outside. 
"We are, dad, and he's… we're not- I mean," Burt holds his hand up. 
"It's fine, Kurt. Just, be safe."
Blaine comes tumbling in with the bags in hand.
"Sorry I took so long, my bad got caught on a hook and," Blaine takes in my face and how my eyes are on the floor. 
"Did… I miss something?"
"A little father-son chat. It was nothing. You boys go unpack."
Blaine follows me as I walk out of the room and when the door is shut, turns to me. 
"What's wrong? What was that all about?" 
I don't make eye contact with him, "My dad just had 'the talk' with me. Again. He told me that there should be no funny business."
There's silence for a few seconds and I'm staring at my carpet like it's the most fascinating thing in the world, until I hear Blaine snort. 
I look up and he's doubled over in laughter.
"It's not funny!" I shout, smiling.
"I know, I know, I'm sorry!" But he's still laughing.
"Shut up," I say, grabbing a pillow from my sofa and hitting him over the head. 

He stops laughing and walks over, pulling me up and close. 
"I'm sorry, baby. I promise, no funny business," he says, leaning in to kiss me. I put my arms around his neck, going to deepen it when a shout from upstairs interrupts us. 
"Kurt! Can you come up here please; I want you to meet someone!"
We part and Blaine raises a questioning eyebrow at me. I shrug, taking his hand and leading him up the stairs. 
We're in the living room when I see a woman standing, bag by her feet, talking to my dad. It hits me – this is his girlfriend. The woman who he's been 'very serious' with for several months now, the woman who, with Kurt's consent, he is going to propose to on Christmas Eve. 
They notice and wave us over. 
"Kurt, this is my girlfriend, Carole. Carole, my son Kurt and his boyfriend Blaine."
She shakes my hand, and then Blaine's. 
"It's very nice to meet you, dear. I have heard so much about you. Both of you, actually." 
"Me too! I've been so excited to meet the woman who my father keeps gushing about," My dad smiles. 
"He's over exaggerating. Is your son here, with you?" Oh, she has a son. This is new information.

She nods.
"Yeah, he's just getting our bags," she looks to the door, "in fact, here he is now."
Me and Blaine look to the arch of the living room and my jaw drops. I freeze, in shock, and I can't move. 
"Finn," we say in unison. 
Finn looks over, drops the bag and stares.
"Kurt? Blaine?"