"I still think you should tell him first, and then I can talk to him afterwards," Blaine says, dragging his feet as he and Kurt walk up the driveway to Kurt's house.

"Oh no," Kurt says, practically pulling Blaine along behind him. "We are doing this together. We got ourselves into this mess, and we're going to face my dad like…"

Kurt stops short in the Hummels' driveway, his eyes round as saucers and his jaw dropping in silent panic.

"Kurt?"

"Oh my god," Kurt says, blinking rapidly. "He's going to kill you."

"Wow, I feel so much better now," Blaine deadpans.

"We can't do this," Kurt says, walking briskly back to Blaine's car, his breathing coming in short pants. "I thought I could do it, but I can't."

Blaine rushes to catch up to Kurt. He grabs his arm near the elbow and pulls him to a gentle stop.

"Kurt…"

"This is going to be worse than the time Mercedes lobbed a brick through the windshield of my Navigator. He must have turned about 12 shades of red yelling at me about deductibles and responsibility and how 16-year-olds shouldn't be allowed to drive. And that was just a car. Oh god."

Kurt doubles over and keeps repeating "oh god." Blaine would probably laugh if he wasn't also panicked about telling Burt.

"Kurt, take a deep breath," Blaine says, running his hand down Kurt's back. "We can do this."

"How?" Kurt says, his features pained as he looks up at Blaine.

"Like you said…together." Blaine smiles. He hopes he sounds more confident than he feels.

Because now that they've had a conversation about their plans for New York, Blaine needs Kurt's dad to be on board. He knows how close they are, and Kurt needs his support. Maybe Blaine does too.

Blaine holds out his hand for Kurt to take as Kurt slowly rises to standing. He grips it tighter than is absolutely necessary, but Blaine doesn't mind. It makes him feel stronger to feel Kurt's warm hand in his. He threads their fingers together and lets Kurt tug him up the driveway and through the front door.

Kurt takes a deep breath as he steps into the entryway.

"Dad?" he calls out.

"In the kitchen," he answers.

Blaine feels a tug on his hand as Kurt pulls him through the house and into the kitchen. Kurt's dad is digging through one of the cabinets, so Kurt clears his throat. Burt glances over his shoulder but doesn't notice Blaine right away.

It's probably because he's trying his best to hide behind Kurt and disappear into the wallpaper.

"Carole wanted me to make those turkey burgers you guys like for dinner, but I'm not sure I got the seasoning right. Do you use cumin?" He turns back to the cupboards, rooting through dozens of tiny bottles of various spices.

"Garlic and oregano," Kurt says, before closing his eyes and taking a steadying breath. "Dad, can I talk to you about something?"

"Sure," he says, turning around and wiping his hands on a towel that's resting over his shoulder. "What's up, buddy?"

"Um…" Kurt begins, tugging on Blaine's hand.

Burt's eyes trail down Kurt's arm as he notices Blaine's fingers threaded between Kurt's. He looks up and his eyes narrow as he recognizes Blaine's face.

"Hello," Blaine says, raising a hand in a half-wave.

"Hello yourself," Burt replies, his face resembling Kurt's when he's trying to puzzle something out. "Kurt?"

"Why don't we sit down?" Blaine says, finally managing to sound like the adult he is. Or should be.

"I'd first like to know why you're standing in my kitchen holding onto my kid's hand like he's a lifeline or something," Burt says, gesturing toward them both.

Kurt steps further into the room but doesn't let go of Blaine's hand, despite the fact that Blaine tries to pull it out of his grip.

"No, Blaine," he says under his breath. "Together."

Blaine nods and relaxes as much as he can with Burt's gaze locked firmly on his face. There's a challenge there, but Blaine doesn't want confrontation, so he maintains eye contact, but tries to keep his expression friendly rather than confrontational. They're on the same side; they both love Kurt.

"Mr. Hummel," Blaine says. "I know this is going to sound crazy…"

"Try me," he says, interrupting.

"Dad," Kurt chastises. "Will you listen to us, please?"

At the sound of Kurt's voice, Burt relaxes a little and pulls his eyes from Blaine for the first time since he noticed him. He sighs.

"Okay, Kurt," he says. "You have my undivided attention. Explain."

"Will you sit?" Kurt asks.

Kurt's dad yanks the towel from his shoulder and flings it on the counter before crossing the room to take a seat at the small kitchen table. He looks expectantly at Kurt and Blaine.

Kurt rushes to take the chair closest to him and gestures for Blaine to take the one to his left. Blaine feels Mr. Hummel's eyes on him, but keeps his gaze locked on Kurt.

"I'm listening," Burt says. "Talk."

"Okay, so remember when you said I could tell you anything and you'd listen first, and ask questions later?"

Burt nods.

"I need you to do that now," Kurt says on a harsh exhale.

"Okay," he says, sounding skeptical.

"Mr. Hummel, before I say anything else, I want you to know that I have Kurt's best interests at heart. I really do," Blaine says. He suddenly feels stripped bare and more than a little bit like he's coming out to his parents all over again. He breathes slowly and tries to stop his hands from shaking.

"What Blaine's trying to say," Kurt continues, and Blaine doesn't miss the way Mr. Hummel's eyebrow quirks up at Kurt calling his teacher by his first name, "is this is a decision we made together. No one pressured me into this. If anything, I pressured him." Kurt shoots Blaine a flirtatious smirk before clearing his throat.

Blaine squeezes his hand and nods for him to continue.

"Dad, Blaine and I…" Kurt trails off for a moment, and Blaine opens his mouth to speak. But he's interrupted by Kurt's dad.

"You're together," he says plainly. "As a couple."

"Yes," Kurt says in a rush of breath.

"Mr. Hummel, I know this is a shock, but I promise you, nothing happened until after Kurt turned 18, and even then, we've been very, very careful."

Mr. Hummel glances over at Blaine and gives him an look that practically screams "I wasn't born yesterday."

"It's true, dad," Kurt interjects.

"And it all just sort of happened," Blaine says. "I didn't plan any of this, and I assure you, I didn't set out with the intent of dating your son. I swear. In fact, I tried to push my feelings aside, but there's just something about him, sir. I can't quite understand it myself sometimes, but I love him. I can't help it, but I do." He glances over at Kurt to find him smiling, and it gives Blaine courage to continue. "And, sir, we'd kind of like, well, maybe not your blessing, but maybe your seal of approval or something, because we're both going to be in New York next year and it would kill me if Kurt didn't have his father to talk to. Of course, I understand if you don't approve. I just wanted to tell you my side of things because I think Kurt's amazing and I want to spend as much time as I can getting to know him and eventually maybe I'd like to marry him. Not that it's anything we've talked about yet, but he's just the most wonderful man I've ever met and…"

Kurt clears his throat, putting a stop to Blaine's rambling.

"I think he gets the idea, Blaine."

"Can I talk now?" Burt asks.

"Yes?" Kurt says, and it sounds more like a question than an answer.

"You sure about this?" Burt says, looking at Kurt finally.

"Never been more sure about anything in my life," he says, grinning at Blaine.

"Then there's not much else to say, is there?"

"Mr. Hummel…" Blaine says.

He holds up a hand to stop Blaine from speaking.

"If my kid says you're the right guy for him, I believe him. Doesn't mean I have to like it, but I trust him."

"Thanks, dad," Kurt says.

"Doesn't mean I trust you, though," he says, pointing a finger at Blaine and giving him a stern look that Blaine feels in his toes.

"Yes, dad."

"How old are you?" Mr. Hummel asks, narrowing his eyes at Blaine.

"Just turned 23, sir," Blaine replies. "So not that much older."

"And what are you going to New York for, exactly? Not just to be with Kurt, I hope."

"No sir. I'm going to get my Ph.D. at NYU…Tisch actually. In performance studies. I want to teach college, sir."

"High school didn't work out for you?" he says, not hiding his disdain.

"Quite the opposite, sir," Blaine says truthfully. "Coaching New Directions made me realize my heart was somewhere else." He pauses. "In more ways than one now that I think of it."

"Aww, that's so sweet," Kurt says and Blaine laughs.

"How can you stand me when I'm this cheesy?"

"It's a hardship, I assure you," Kurt teases.

Blaine shifts in his seat when he realizes they're flirting in front of Kurt's dad. But when he glances over at him, Blaine sees a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Where are you two planning to live?" he asks. " You might be 18, Kurt, but I'm not giving you some sort of universal go-ahead to shack up with your teacher."

"With Rachel," Kurt says at the same time Blaine says, "My uncle has an apartment in Brooklyn, sir."

"Smart," Burt says.

"Blaine's idea," Kurt says beaming proudly.

Burt sniffs.

"Well, I guess everything's in order then," he says, pushing his chair back from the table and standing. He turns just as he reaches the counter and faces them. "And Blaine?"

Blaine looks up expectantly, almost as if he's waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"Yes, sir?"

"Call me Burt, will ya? Mr. Hummel was my old man."

Blaine smiles warmly and looks to Kurt who is grinning at his dad.

"Can I help you with those burgers, Burt?" Blaine says.

"And that was it?" Wes asks when Blaine finishes recounting the story to him.

"I know, right? I was expecting to be thrown bodily from the premises."

"Wow. You got the dad's permission and everything."

"It's all a bit surreal yet," Blaine says.

"But you're happy, right?" Wes asks. "No regrets?"

"Just love," Blaine replies with a laugh.

"You did not just quote Katy Perry to me," Wes says. "You are the absolute biggest dork ever."

"Oh come on, you love it," Blaine says. "And consider it payback for me having to listen to you drone on about Heather's perfect boobs for the last three years."

"She does have a nice rack," Wes says. "Even you can't deny that."

"If I liked boobs, yes," Blaine says, "I'm sure I'd find hers to be quite lovely."

"Lovely? Jeez, Grandpa Blaine, how did you ever snag yourself a hot, young piece of ass."

"He's a gentleman," Blaine replies. "Unlike some people."

"Hey, I'm a gentleman," Wes says. "I just have no problem expressing myself without resorting to cheesy pop songs."

"There's nothing wrong with pop music, Wes."

"Depends on the context," Wes replies. "Sex toys in the Gap?"

"It's been almost eight years," Blaine says. "Let it go."

"I'll let it go when it stops being funny," Wes says with a laugh as he starts singing, "Baby girl, you the shit. That makes you my equivalent. You can keep your toys in the drawer tonight."

"Okay, okay…stop."

A sharp knocking at his door interrupts Wes' teasing, and Blaine offers a hasty goodbye.

"We'll talk tomorrow," Wes replies. "But I'll see you when you get into the city, okay? Later, man."

Just as Blaine ends the call, he throws open the door to reveal a very tall, very familiar tracksuit-clad figure.

"How does everyone know where I live?" Blaine wonders out loud.

"Hacked into the district's system," Sue says, looking impressed with herself as she pushes past Blaine into his tiny apartment. "I had to sleep with half the school board, but I got master passwords to everything. I just gave myself a raise. Of course that means Figgins now gets paid in Monopoly money, but I can't be bothered with details."

Blaine stares wide-eyed.

"Kidding," Sue says. "I followed you home."

"Because that's less creepy," Blaine says.

"Please, I make my living being creepy, Anderson." Sue makes herself at home on Blaine's worn sofa, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, and grins up at him. "Have a seat."

"How kind of you to invite me to sit in my own home," he says, taking the seat to her left on the sofa.

She holds up a hand and laughs.

"Ease up there, Princess Tiger Lily, I come in peace."

"Excuse me," Blaine says, unsure where she's going with this. He learned long ago not to trust Sue, not even when she appears to be in a good mood.

"I know we haven't always gotten along…"

"You've been trying to get me fired since September," Blaine interrupts.

"Just part of my charm," she says, grinning broadly.

Blaine rolls his eyes. "Hardly."

"Look, Harry Potter, I'm trying to apologize, here."

"You could start by calling me by my name," Blaine says.

"No can do. It's in my contract that I use at least three pop culturally aware nicknames per conversation."

As usual, Blaine has no clue what she's talking about. He eases himself back into the cushions and crosses his arms over his chest, waiting for her to get to the point.

"Look, I know I gave you a hard time this year," she says.

"To put it mildly," Blaine says.

"Oh, please, Bowties McGee, I went easy on you."

"That was easy?" Blaine asks.

"Comparatively, yes," she says with a shrug.

"Did you have a point in all this?" Blaine asks. He sighs, suddenly feeling incredibly impatient.

"Porcelain."

"Kurt?" Blaine asks, still confused.

"I like that kid," she says. "God help me, but I love his sweet little elfin face and that glass-shattering lady voice of his. It's enough to make me puke kittens and rainbows for weeks." She pauses and looks thoughtful for a moment. "But he's a good kid. He deserves to be happy."

"Okay…" Blaine says when she pauses.

"What I'm trying to say is, I'm glad he's happy. With you. He needs people who care about him in his life. Even if they wear enough ridiculous-looking bow ties to make Pee Wee Herman look cool."

She looks disgusted, but Blaine is smiling because Sue cares…about Kurt. It's almost enough to make him forgive her for all her scheming and stupid nicknames over the past nine months. Almost.

"Sue Sylvester, do you actually have a heart under all those track suits?" he says, laughing. "Or did you just steal one from one of your Cheerios?"

"Very funny, Anderson. I almost considered laughing at that. But then I remembered the smell of hair gel makes me nauseous."

She stands up and straightens her jacket. When she gets to the door, she turns back to face Blaine, who is still staring after her from the sofa.

"Have a nice life," she says. "Look after Porcelain."

"I'm going to miss you too, Sue."

She gives him a single nod and turns to go. Blaine can't help but smile to himself.

After telling his dad about their relationship, it becomes more difficult for Kurt to hang out at Blaine's — Burt keeps a pretty close watch — so Blaine starts spending time at his house.

In late June Carole insists that Blaine start joining them for Friday night dinners. They keep up the tradition even when Burt is in Washington and Carole is working late. And especially when Finn already has plans.

"Just give me the spatula," Kurt says, holding out his hand. "You're going to burn it."

Blaine rolls his eyes and instead of conceding, he swats playfully at Kurt's ass with it.

"Ow," Kurt says, even though it didn't really hurt. He sticks his lower lip out for emphasis.

Blaine's eyes dart down to Kurt's mouth.

"You'd better put that away," Blaine says.

"Or what?" Kurt teases as he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and licks it before releasing it and drawing his lips into a smirk.

Blaine groans, actually groans, as he grabs Kurt by the waist, dropping the spatula to the counter and pulling him in close.

"Our grilled cheese is going to burn," Kurt says softly, eyes locked on Blaine's lips.

"Don't care," Blaine says, voice deep and rough. He pulls Kurt in closer, using a bit of force as he kisses him. Blaine sucks Kurt's lower lip into his mouth, causing him to gasp. Kurt's head is spinning wonderfully as he lets himself get lost in Blaine's kisses.

And Kurt suddenly realizes he's an altogether different kind of hungry.

He threads his hands through Blaine's hair in the back where the gel is coming loose. When their lips part, Kurt sighs. They're still close enough that Blaine's breath tickles his cheek.

"The things you do to me, Kurt," Blaine whispers as he nips at Kurt's ear.

Something flares up in Kurt's belly making him feel bolder than usual. He wants to strip Blaine naked right there in the kitchen and trace every inch of his body with his tongue. Work him up into a tense ball of arousal and watch him come undone.

"Let me blow you," Kurt says. His hands find the button on Blaine's pants before he can even respond with a slow, incredulous and wide-eyed nod. Kurt huffs out a frustrated breath as he fumbles a little with the zipper.

"The sandwiches!"

Blaine laughs as Kurt reaches around him to flick off the burner.

"God help us if we burn the house down for a blow job," Kurt says.

Blaine's eyes get wider because yes, this is apparently happening. But as Kurt's hands run up under his shirt, Blaine starts to get a bit nervous.

"Uh, Kurt, shouldn't we leave our clothes on?" he asks, voice wavering. "I mean I don't really need my shirt off for a blow job."

"Shh," Kurt murmurs, pulling Blaine's shirt over his head and tossing it to the ground. He quickly follows it, kneeling in front of Blaine. Kurt leans forward, hands gripping Blaine's hips as he runs his tongue over the deep, enticing V that dips down into his jeans.

Blaine groans, letting his head fall back as he reaches out to grab onto the counter behind him to hold himself up.

"God, Kurt–"

"Not actually the same person," Kurt says, smirking to himself as he places a bite to Blaine's left hip bone.

Blaine doesn't even have the blood cells to make a comment on that or smack him in the head. All he can do is thrust up and into Kurt's mouth, willing it lower.

"Pushy already?" Kurt chuckles and begins to nose lower where Blaine's erection is tenting his boxers. "Usually takes much longer than this."

Kurt breathes hotly over the bulge, watching it twitch slightly when he runs his tongue over the cotton covering it. Blaine whines, hips snapping up toward Kurt again.

Kurt just laughs and tightens his grip on Blaine's hips, taking his time to tease. He finally pushes Blaine's jeans down, tugging on them until Blaine picks up his feet and Kurt can pull them off, dropping them on the floor by his shirt.

He returns to Blaine's cock, nosing at it again and enjoying the guttural moan he drags out of Blaine. He looks up to see Blaine watching him, pupils wide and dark with lust.

"God, you want it so bad," Kurt says.

It's not a question because Kurt can see it in his eyes, and whatever hesitation was there earlier is now gone.

"Oh god yes." Blaine's voice is low and deep and it sends shivers down Kurt's spine.

"Tell me," he continues, just reaching out to graze Blaine's cock with his fingertips. Blaine shivers.

"Please, Kurt."

"Please what?"

"God, just ... please suck me," Blaine's grip on the counter tightens as Kurt immediately tugs down his boxers and wraps his lips tightly around Blaine's cock.

Blaine groans and thrusts, wanting to feel more – more heat, more Kurt, just … more. So Kurt lets him thrust a few more times before gripping Blaine's hips firmly and stilling his movements.

Kurt takes his time on Blaine's cock, swirling his tongue around the tip and teasing the slit before he bobs down to Blaine in deep enough that his cock bumps against the back of Kurt's throat. Then he pulls off and sucks hard on the head. He repeats the motion a few times until Blaine is panting heavily above him.

"Christ, Kurt."

Blaine reaches down with one hand to run his fingers through Kurt's hair. He pulls his head in closer and begins to thrust a little. And again. And again. Kurt doesn't stop him. He just opens his mouth a bit wider, letting his jaw go slack so he can fit more of Blaine inside.

Blaine groans, his fingers tightening, and Kurt knows he's getting close. He sucks harder and begins to move his head up and down in time with Blaine's thrusts.

Kurt glances up to catch Blaine's blissed-out expression; his eyes are closed, lips slightly parted as his breath speeds up. Suddenly Blaine's eyes snap open and he taps Kurt on the shoulder.

"Was that the door?" Blaine asks.

Kurt doesn't stop, though. He didn't hear anything.

"Hey Kurt…Kurt!" Finn yells from the living room. "I brought back some ice cream. Hey, where are you?"

"Shit," Kurt says as he releases Blaine's still hard cock from his mouth. He glances up just in time to see the color drain from Blaine's face as his eyes grow wide in terror.

Kurt is on his feet in a flash, using his body to shield Blaine as best he can and using his own arms to cover his own chest just as Finn walks into the kitchen.

"Oh my god!" Finn shouts, throwing a hand over his eyes and dropping a plastic grocery bag on the floor. It makes a dull thud as the ice cream falls out and rolls into one of the cabinets.

"Jesus, Finn," Kurt says, feeling a flush color his face. "You said you were going out with the guys."

"I am," he says, eyes pressed closed tightly as he fidgets uncomfortably. "But I uh…didn't want the ice cream to melt, so I was going to drop it off before I…um…" Finn squats and gropes blindly for the bag. "Before I met up with Puck and Sam. Shit, where is it?"

"I'll take care of it, Finn," Kurt says through clenched teeth. "Why don't you get going?"

"Um, yeah…okay," he says. Finn turns so fast he stumbles a little and has to catch himself on the wall. His eyes are still pressed closed. It's more than a little ridiculous and Kurt has to bite his lip to keep from laughing.

Blaine doesn't even bother to fight it. He lets out a tiny snort of laughter that tickles Kurt's back near where Blaine is pressing his face into Kurt's shoulder.

"Bye, Mr. A…I mean Blaine," Finn says, groping for the doorway as he runs into the counter instead. When he finds the door, he practically runs through the living room to exit the house. Then Kurt hears the door slam, rattling the pictures on the wall.

He turns to face Blaine, who looks as red as Kurt feels.

"I'm never going to live this down," Kurt says, dropping his head to Blaine's chest.

Blaine laughs and strokes Kurt's hair. "Look at it this way," he says, tipping Kurt's chin up with his hand. "Would you want to tell anyone you'd seen your choir teacher naked?"

Kurt giggles when he meets Blaine's smile. "From Finn's point of view, I suppose not."

"Exactly." Blaine kisses the tip of Kurt's nose.

"Although," Kurt says, smirking coyly at Blaine, "I wouldn't mind talking about said teacher being naked."

"How naked?" Blaine asks with a raised eyebrow.

Kurt glances down between them to take in the upper half of Blaine's body: his toned chest, a perfect smattering of dark hair that thickens as it trails downward. He looks good enough to eat.

"I'd say just about this naked," Kurt says, peppering kisses down Blaine's chest before falling to his knees again.

"I might need some convincing," Blaine says, grinning down at him.

"Mr. Anderson, are you propositioning me?" he says feigning surprise.

"You talk too much, Kurt."

"Then why don't you shut me up?"