"No." Burt begins cutting through the bagel in his hand in a fashion that makes Kurt wince. "You helping is one thing, but I'm not having you do it all. It's Carole's birthday. She's had a long week at work, and I want to make brunch for my wife. Is that okay?"

Kurt resists the strong temptation to roll his eyes or make some biting retort. Instead he just nods his agreement. And he doesn't mind, not really. Carole's done wonders for his dad, given him a whole new lease of life, so helping his father cook a brunch of Eggs Benedict for her birthday is the least he can do. Yes, it would be so much easier if he was doing it alone, but there's something really rather sweet about his father's insistence on helping. Not that Kurt's going to say that out loud.

Instead, he just pauses in his whisking for a moment. "Use a chopping board." And when Burt looks at him in question, Kurt adds, "Just humour me."

Burt shakes his head and gives the small smile that he reserves for Kurt – the one that says he has no idea what's going on, but that he'd pretty much do anything for his son anyway. Moments later the bagel is safely on a thick wooden board and Kurt can relax again.

Well, for now, anyway. Because soon Finn will be back, with his list of Kurt-assigned errands hopefully completed, and he'll be back to buzzing around in Kurt's orbit like a particularly annoying fly.

"I shouldn't have let Finn go," Kurt thinks out loud. "He's bound to screw something up." He whisks a little more vigorously than intended and is rewarded with a splash of hot hollandaise on his bare skin. "Shit!" he gasps, and quickly sucks at the base of his left thumb.

"Language." But Burt's tone and the glint of amusement in his eyes show how little he's really bothered by it. "You okay?" he asks when Kurt finally removes his hand from his mouth, and upon receiving a brief nod in return, Burt continues. "Don't worry about Finn. He'd be hard pressed to get it wrong after all the instructions you gave him. And besides, Blaine's with him; it'll be fine."

That's true, Kurt thinks. After all, the whole reason for sending Blaine in the first place had been so he could keep an eye on Finn. "Thanks, Dad," he says finally, bumping shoulders with his father gently.

"'S what fathers are for, right?" Burt says. His words are slightly muffled, which draws Kurt's attention.

"Dad!" Exasperation tempered with fondness colours his tone. "We're supposed to be cooking the food, not eating it.

Burt pops the last bit of bagel in his mouth with a smile that barely passes for chastened. "Sorry."

"Hmm." Kurt's not convinced about that, but the sauce needs his attention if they don't want to start batch number three, so they fall back to work in a comfortable silence.

It doesn't last for long, though. Because barely has Kurt taken the pan off the heat before Burt is turning to face him, his brow creased a little in concern.

"What is it?" Kurt's panicking before his Dad even replies – his mind is already running through the list of possible things that could be about to go wrong with his careful plans.

"Are you okay, kid?"

Oh, so that's all it is. Kurt sighs in relief. For one awful moment he thought his dad was going to confess to dropping the cake or something equally terrible. "I'm fine, Dad."

"You're sure? You'd tell me if you were in some kind of trouble, right?"

Kurt rolls his eyes, because really, when has he ever not come to his dad with problems? But then his mind supplies memories of high school, junior year, and he has to concede his dad may have some grounds. "Yes, I'm sure, and I promise I'm not."

That appears to be enough because Burt heaves a noticeable sigh of relief and turns his attention back to the counter. "Right, what's next?"

Kurt's phone chooses that exact minute to begin buzzing in his pocket. He pulls it out, and after a quick glance at the display, says, "I'm going to answer this. You could put the water on for the eggs, and then those bagels will need toasting."

Burt nods in reply, but anything he may have said goes unheard as Kurt hurries through into the lounge, phone now clamped to ear.

"Hello?"

"Mr Hummel? This is Belinda Lang from the STAR adoption agency."

Kurt sinks into the nearest available seat, no longer interested on keeping an eye on his father in the kitchen. "Hi." The word comes out as barely more than a croak and Kurt isn't sure where all the moisture in his mouth has gone.

"I won't beat around the bush, Mr Hummel; I realise you're on vacation."

"It's fine, honestly." What Kurt actually wants to say is 'get to the fucking point, woman,' because he's hanging on an edge right now and her next words will determine whether or not he falls.

"I'm happy to tell you" she begins, and honestly Kurt doesn't hear much beyond that because they're getting a baby. Finally. After the long months of heartbreak and disappointment he and Blaine are going to be parents – and even though this is the moment they've waited for, dreamt of, Kurt can't quite process the news.

He makes arrangements for an appointment that he knows he'll have to reconfirm when they get home, because there is no way his brain is understanding anything right now – apart from the fact that someone has finally chosen them.

The call ends and the line is barely clear before Kurt's ringing Blaine's number. As the line connects he has to force himself to breathe deeply, but as the line rings out and no Blaine responds, Kurt's breaths become quicker, shallower, and he's pacing the living room like a caged animal.

"Why aren't you picking up?" he demands shrilly of Blaine's voicemail. "You need to ring me right back. I don't care what you're doing, you hear? Just come home."

Kurt ends the call quickly and immediately begins scrolling through his contacts for Finn's number.

"Hey, buddy." Burt appears in the door way, his face creased in concern. "What's all the shouting about?"

But Kurt doesn't have time. He waves his hand dismissively in Burt's direction and then clamps the phone back to his ear. He resumes pacing as the phone rings, and spends the time waiting planning the various ways he will torture Finn if he doesn’t answer the damn thing soon.

"Pick up, pick up, pick up," he mutters like some kind of mantra, and Burt's starting to look really worried now.

"Kurt, what—"

"Not now, Dad." Kurt's tone is sharp, but he doesn't have thoughts to spare for other people's feelings right now. He just needs Blaine. "Finn!" he yells into the phone before Burt can protest his treatment. "Thank God. Where the hell are you?"

There's a pause then as Finn begins to explain and Kurt wonders why he's even bothering to ask.

"Never mind that. I need you to come home now."

Another pause.

"I don't give a fuck about the table cloths. I just need you to bring Blaine home right now."

Kurt's not quite far enough gone that he misses the shocked reactions of his family to his choice of words – he never swears. And certainly not like that. Even Carole, pyjama-clad and hovering uncertainly at the foot of the stairs, is watching in undisguised surprise.

Finn's reaction to it all goes unheard, because Kurt cuts off the call with one last, "Now, Finn." Then he flings the phone onto the sofa and sinks down next to it.

"Are you calm enough to tell me what the hell's going on now?"

Kurt lifts his head from his hands, tears already spilling down his cheeks. "I just need Blaine," is all he says.

A piercing screech breaks the silence that follows and is enough to wake them all to the definitely smoky aroma escaping the kitchen.

"The bagels!" Burt says in alarm. But he glances between Kurt and the kitchen, clearly torn between who, or what, needs him the most.

"You go and put out any fires," Carole says with a small smile, before she crosses the room to sit at Kurt's side. "I'll stay here."

Burt casts one last worried look in his son's direction before disappearing into the kitchen.

Kurt, meanwhile, scrubs fiercely at his face. He's no stranger to tears, sure, but this should be one of the happiest days of his life, and yet all he wants to do is curl up in a ball and sob.

Carole places one hand gently on his back and begins rubbing slow, calming circles between his shoulder blades. "Just take some deep breaths," she says, and her tone's all careful in a way that Kurt knows means she's trying not to startle him. "You need to calm down for me," she adds. "You're panicking your father."

"Sorry, I just…" Kurt shakes his head in frustration, because he can't find the words to say what he's feeling.

"It's okay. Do you want to talk about what's wrong? It might help."

"Nothing's wrong." Kurt shakes his head again, emphatically this time. He gets a sceptical look in return, so adds, "I promise. But I just…I have to tell Blaine first. It wouldn't be fair."

Carole doesn't question him further. She nods her understanding and then they sit there quietly, only the occasional bang or shout from Burt in the kitchen breaking the silence.

It feels to Kurt like forever. He knows logically that Blaine can't just magically return to the house, that the shops are several miles away so it's going to take a while, but he needs to get there now because Kurt's going to explode if he has to keep this to himself for much longer. And the fact that he's obviously worrying his parents doesn't help at all.

Finally there's the unmistakeable screech of a car pulling up on the drive outside. Kurt leaps from the sofa as if stung and tugs the curtains back from the window just in time to see Blaine leap from the passenger side. It's when he sees the expression of fear and panic on his husband's face that Kurt realises just how much he's worried Blaine, that he should have at least tried to put his mind at rest.

But it's too late for that as the front door bursts open and Blaine comes tumbling in after it.

The relief Kurt feels is overwhelming. He literally flings himself onto Blaine – it's only Finn's steadying presence behind that stops them both tumbling out onto the porch beyond.

Blaine holds Kurt close, murmurs soothing words into his ear, and does everything he can to calm him down. But Kurt's been wound so tightly ever since that phone call and there's just no way that's happening any time soon.

There's no holding his emotions back now. He's teary-eyed and snotty-nosed, and he's fairly sure that only bats and the neighbourhood dogs understand his frequency right now. But for once in his life, Kurt's appearance is the last thing on his mind.

"She picked us," he whispers, lips pressed close to Blaine's ear.

Blaine's grip tightens on his shoulders, and he pushes Kurt away slightly so he can look at him. "You're serious?" he asks in wide-eyed wonder.

"Yes." Kurt nods his head, and another tear drips off the end of his nose. And then Blaine's back in his arms and Kurt's not the only one crying, and it's a regular sob fest between them as Kurt's family look on in confusion.

It's Finn, of course, who breaks the silence.

"So…uh, you guys are happy, right? I mean, no one died or anything."

"Finn!"

Kurt can't help but snigger, even if it does come out sounding more like a hiccup. He can't believe that Carole isn't used to her son's tactlessness by now. But Finn's grown a lot over the years and Kurt knows he means well.

"No, Finn, no one has died," Kurt reassures, and he doesn't miss the way that both Carole and his dad – who has reappeared at the commotion – both appear to relax as well.

"So, do you think we could get an explanation now after you've scared years off us this morning?" There's a twinkle in Burt's eyes, but Kurt gets a twinge of guilt all the same.

"I'm sorry," he says and genuinely means it.

"You didn't tell them?" Blaine asks.

"Of course not." Kurt's surprised that Blaine even has to ask. "You had to be first."

If possible, Blaine's smile widens at that, and the familiar look of adoration, that Kurt will never get tired of, crosses his face.

"Tell us what?" Carole prods. "You're killing us with the suspense here."

Kurt's cocks a quick glance in Blaine's direction and receives an eager nod in return. It seems they're both almost as excited about sharing the news as they are about the news itself.

"We're getting a baby," Kurt blurts out all at once, unable to keep it inside any longer.

Three stunned expressions stare back at him. And Finn apparently speaks for them all when he says, "Huh?"

Kurt glances at Blaine and shakes his head in amusement at the reaction. "We're going to be parents," he clarifies.

And as the room explodes in a flurry of hugs and kisses and excited exclamations, everything suddenly hits home for Kurt. It's not just that they're getting a baby, they're going to be raising a baby, and as Kurt looks over at Blaine, who's currently being lifted off the ground by Finn's enthusiastic hug, he hopes his husband has some idea of what he's doing, because Kurt's damned if he does.

"I'm going to be a Grampa?" Burt asks when the excitement fades. Kurt resists the temptation to roll his eyes at the redundant question, because he can see the sheen of emotion in his father's.

"You sure are," Blaine replies, stepping over to Kurt's side once again and sliding an arm around his waist. "We were thinking we'd get you a rocker for the porch."

Finn and Kurt both snigger their amusement, but Burt appears to be seriously considering the prospect. But before the conversation can progress further, Carole reappears – Kurt hadn't even noticed her leave – from the kitchen, bottle of champagne in hand.

"I think this calls for a bit of a celebration. Finn…actually, Blaine, be a dear and grab the glasses for me."

"But that's for your party," Kurt protests, eyeing the bottle he'd carefully selected only the day before. And then it hits him. "Oh my goodness, and I haven't even said happy birthday. We totally stole your thunder."

Carole waves his protests aside. "Don't be silly. When you get to my age it's just another day. But this is huge; I can't think of a more worthy occasion to raise a toast to."

Before Kurt can protest again, there's a loud pop, a giggle from Carole as the liquid fizzes over, and Blaine is pressing a drink into his hand.

"To Kurt and Blaine," Carole says, lifting her glass in the air and slopping some over the side in the process.

"And the baby too," Finn adds, before raising his glass to his lips and drinking eagerly.

"To families," Burt says finally with decision, and as one they all raise their glasses.

It's a long and exhausting weekend, fully of so much joy and celebration, and when the cab pulls up out front of their apartment on Sunday evening, Blaine doesn’t think he's ever been so glad to get home.

It's not that he hasn't had a good time – the Hummels are as much a family to him as they are Kurt, and he loves them dearly – but so much has changed in their lives since they left New York and Blaine's barely had time to catch his breath, much less process any of it.

Kurt's through the door and in the elevator with a speed that belies the tiredness he's been complaining of since they left Columbus. Blaine just follows with a hint of a smile on his face – he learnt many years ago just how unwise it was to point out such things.

It's so good to be home. Blaine can't wait to sleep in his own bed again, and Kurt apparently has particularly missed their couch, if the way he is currently sprawling over it in cat-like fashion is anything to go by.

"Tired?" Blaine can't help but tease just the tiniest bit as a yawn practically cracks Kurt's jaw.

"I can't believe I have to go to work tomorrow. I'll have bags under my eyes at this rate. Bags, Blaine!"

"Speaking of which," Blaine grabs their case from where Kurt had abandoned it. "I'll just dump this in the bedroom for now; I'll worry about unpacking it tomorrow."

Kurt doesn't comment on this – he's very busy rearranging the couch cushions into a suitable pillow. He does, however, raise one eyebrow sceptically.

"I will," Blaine protests. He casually slides the case inside their room and shuts the door on the resulting thud as it hits the wall.

Kurt presents entirely too tempting a sight right then and it's only moments before Blaine has flopped down on the sofa beside him. "Budge up," he says, and then wriggles determinedly until he is satisfied with his position, pressed between Kurt and the sofa back, one arm looped snugly around his husband's waist.

"I just want to enjoy this tonight," Blaine adds, and slowly slides his fingers under the hem of Kurt's shirt – the skin of his stomach is so soft and warm. "It's nice seeing everyone, but I miss having you to myself like this."

Kurt shifts in Blaine's arms, turning until they are face to face, scant inches apart. He reaches out with one hand and begins gently stroking his fingers through Blaine's curls. "It is rather nice, isn't it? Peaceful."

Blaine grins, leans closer and rubs the tips of their noses together briefly. "I guess we should make the most of it," he says, with a wry smile.

"Oh really?" Kurt trails his hand down from Blaine's hair, along the buttons of his shirt. "And just what did you have in mind?"

Blaine's eyes widen at that. "No." He shakes his head suddenly. "I mean, yes, obviously. Always yes. But I meant…it's not going to be just us for much longer."

Kurt nods. "I know."

"We're going to have a baby," Blaine says, and it's like he's hearing the words out loud for the first time, just the slightest hint of panic in his voice.

"I know," Kurt repeats, his fingers now retracing their path through Blaine's curls.

But Blaine's distracted now. He's too busy looking around the apartment, spotting things like their metal coffee table with its sharp corners, or the glass bowl on it that Kurt loves so much, all the potential hazards that lie in wait in their apartment, and it's just suddenly starting to hit home. "We're not ready." He turns a worried gaze on Kurt. "We can't—"

Kurt silences him with a kiss – it's always been the most effective way to calm Blaine down and Kurt's not above exploiting that fact. "We'll be fine," he says when he finally pulls back. "We've got nearly five months to get ready."

"I suppose." Blaine isn't quite sure just yet, but he allows himself to be distracted as Kurt starts to nuzzle along his jaw line.

"Besides," Kurt continues. "It's you and me; how hard can it be to manage one tiny little baby between us?"

There's obvious amusement in Kurt's voice, and Blaine can't help but grin in response. "I'll remind you of that in six months time when you've got baby sick on your Marc Jacobs blazer."

"Don't even joke about it." Kurt dips his head again and kisses Blaine hard. "Now, about that making the most of it," he says, lips still so close that Blaine can feel the vibration on his own.

And just like that all Blaine's baby-related concerns fade into the background. He's up and off the sofa in no time, hand held out to his still-lounging husband. "Come on, then."

"Eager much?" Kurt asks as he reaches out and allows Blaine to tug him to his feet.

Blaine opens his mouth to reply, but someone else apparently thinks this is a good time to knock on their door.

"Ignore it," Kurt says, now reversing their roles and leading Blaine bedroom-bound.

Blaine is torn between the part of him eager to be alone with Kurt at last, and the part that has had good manners drilled into it relentlessly since childhood. "Are you sure?" he asks, and glances uncertainly between the door and their bedroom. "It could be—"

"Which would you rather?" Kurt says pointedly, following Blaine's gaze.

Which is a silly question, because there is no doubt which Blaine wants, but—

"Kurt Hummel! I know you're in there!" The banging sounds starts again in accompaniment; Rachel Berry is not one to be ignored. "You open the door right this instant or I will be forced to run scales in your hallway."

Blaine bites his lip uneasily at this pronouncement. Rachel will most certainly make good on her threat – they both know that. The last time Kurt tried to deny her entrance to the apartment there were more than a few disgruntled complaints from the neighbours. Something Rachel is clearly banking on.

"Fuck." Kurt lets go of Blaine's hand with seeming reluctance. "I'm going to have to let her in."

Blaine knows it's true, but it doesn't stop the pout his lips automatically form. "But what about…" He nods towards their bedroom forlornly.

Kurt presses a quick hard kiss to his lips. "Hold that thought; I'll get rid of her."

But as Kurt crosses the room to the door, Blaine doesn't hold out much hope.

Rachel has her arms folded tightly across her chest, brows drawn in an intense frown, and is decidedly not happy. "And just when were you two planning to tell me I'm going to be an Auntie?"

Blaine's stunned. A quick glance at Kurt shows he's faring no better. Though apparently they both realise now is not the time to point out Rachel won't actually be related to their child.

"How do you know that?" Kurt asks sharply, and Rachel's scowl deepens.

"I had to find out about it on Facebook. From Finn of all people!"

So much for keeping it quiet for now.

"I'll kill him," Kurt mutters as Rachel flounces her way inside the apartment. And given that any chance of sex that night appears to have just vanished, Blaine's rather tempted to help.

"Hey, Blainey."

Blaine starts in surprise at that opening gambit, because Cooper never calls – it's always Blaine who has to make the effort to keep their constantly floundering relationship alive. So a phone call from his brother, out of the blue, is quite definitely a cause for concern. He places his coffee carefully down on the counter before replying – Kurt will kill him if he breaks another of their mugs.

"Hey, Coop," he says carefully. Blaine can see Kurt's eyes widen in surprise on the other side of the room, and even Rachel stops her incessant twittering about her latest audition. "What's up?" The question comes out as casual as Blaine can make it, but there's no disguising the concern behind it.

"I was going to ask you the same thing," Cooper replies, and it's then that Blaine notices his brother doesn't sound his usual ebullient self.

"Oh, well, I'm good, I guess." Blaine frowns into the phone – aware his brother can't see it, but confused nonetheless. "Is everything okay with you? And Lucy?"

The mention of his daughter distracts Cooper for a moment, and in the silence that follows Blaine can't help feel a pang of sympathy for his brother. Lucy's a beautiful little girl, from what Blaine remembers and the countless pictures he's seen – but things between Cooper and her mother had ended messily, and the Andersons are kept very much on the periphery of her life.

"She's fine," Cooper says eventually. "Great, actually."

Blaine glances over at the picture of the grinning toddler on their bookcase and can't help smiling in return. It's a smile that gets even wider when he thinks about the other pictures that will be joining it very soon. And then Blaine's heart sinks, because he has a very good idea exactly why his brother's calling.

"Look, Coop," he starts, uncertain of what exactly he's going to say next. Fortunately, Cooper has other ideas.

"Were you ever going to tell me?" he asks, the hurt palpable in his voice.

Blaine rests one hand on the counter and grips the phone just a little bit tighter with the other. "I'm sorry," he says. "I didn't…How did you find out?"

"Finn."

Blaine could have almost laughed at the irony of that were he not too busy wallowing in guilt.

"He made some rambling post on my Facebook wall about how awesome it was that we were going to be uncles, and I didn't have a fucking clue what he was talking about."

Blaine hangs his head slightly. "Cooper—"

"I know we don't stay in touch as much as we should, little bro, and I'm probably more to blame for that than you, but why wouldn’t you tell me something like that? I mean, this is huge."

"I'm sorry," Blaine replies weakly, and just for a moment feels very much like the little brother he used to be. "I forgot." It's a poor excuse, and Blaine knows that, but it sounds marginally better than the truth.

"You don't just forget something like that," Cooper points out. "Well, some people might, but you don't, Blaine."

"Fine." Blaine drags his free hand roughly through his hair and lets out a sigh. "I would have told you, at some point. I just…I didn't think you'd be that interested. It's not like you make any kind of effort to be a part of my life, is it?"

There's a moment of silence that follows and Blaine finds that he's holding his breath waiting for his brother to reply.

"I'm sorry," Cooper says eventually, and it's soft and genuine, and Blaine lets out his breath in a rush of surprise because why is Cooper sorry when he's the one in the wrong? "You're my brother and I love you, and I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like that wasn't the case."

"It's okay." Blaine catches a glimpse of his reflection in the polished glass fronts of the cupboards Kurt had insisted on – he looks stunned.

"Good. Well, that's that cleared up. Now tell me all about it."

Blaine laughs, he really can't help himself – Cooper has never been one for introspection, and it seems nothing has changed in that regard. "What do you want to know?"

Cooper huffs. "What do people usually want to know when someone's having a baby? When's it due? Is it a girl or a boy? As favourite uncle I need to know these things."

It's a struggle, but Blaine manages to hold back a snigger at this. "Favourite uncle?"

"I'm a famous actor, Blaine," Cooper says with exaggerated patience in his tone. "Finn's a mechanic. There's no way I'm coming in second place in that competition."