<!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Calibri; panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin-top:0in; margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:10.0pt; margin-left:0in; line-height:115%; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.0in 1.0in 1.0in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} -->

A/N: I have read so many “abusive Mr. Anderson” stories that I decided to take a different route. I always had this idea that Blaine’s relationship with his father was completely based around a total lack of communication and inability to connect. I mean, a father is who is willing to pull his son out of school and shell out thousands of dollars for private school tuition just so his son can be safe, can’t be that terrible right?

The bell above the front door of Hummel Tires and Lube jingled as a suited man in his forties entered the shop. He somewhat hesitantly approached the receptionist.

“I'm looking for a Burt Hummel.”

She nodded and smiled, "Lemme check if he's free. Take a seat, if you'd like."

A short time passed when Burt emerged in the front office, yelling over his shoulder at Finn to finish the oil change. He turned to face the man in front of him, and congenially held his hand out.

"Burt Hummel, what can I do you for?"

The man smiled kindly and shook his hand firmly.

"Michael Anderson."

Burt took in his high cheekbones, defined eyebrows, and dark hair lightly peppered with gray.

"Blaine's father?" he ventured. Michael nodded.

"Well, it's nice to finally meet you. I take it you aren't here for work on your car?"

Mr. Anderson chuckled. "Nope, can't say that I am," he said, his voice laced with a hint of anxiety. "Um, do you mind if we speak in private?"

Burt furrowed his eyebrows. "Yes of course. Here, come this way."

He led Blaine's father into his adjacent office and closed the door behind them. He gestured to the chair placed in front of his desk and they both took a seat.

"I'm sorry if you take this the wrong way, but you aren't at all what I expected."

Burt laughed boisterously. "Yeah, I tend to get that a lot. Congressman, mechanic, Kurt's father; people are never really sure what to expect."

There was a small pause before Michael cleared his throat.

"Well, I don't really know how to gracefully breach the subject, so I guess I'm just gonna have to dive in." He reached into his briefcase and pulled out a pulled out a box of condoms, placing them on the desk between them. "My wife found these in my son's room last night."

Burt sighed heavily and reached for the box, toying with the torn-open top. “Well, this is news to me...though I can't say I' m all that surprised."

"Kurt doesn't talk to you about this kind of stuff?"

"I had to practically put him in a straight jacket to have 'the Talk' with him. I had hoped he'd come to me with something like this, but I guess I can't force him until he's ready."

Michael shifted uneasily. "Blaine and I have never, you know, discussed this. We actually rarely discuss anything..."

"Yeah, he's mentioned that you two aren't the best at communicating,” Burt replied cautiously.

Michael sighed and leaned back in his chair. "I'm sure Blaine didn't put it as nicely."

Burt smiled. "Blaine puts EVERYTHING nicely."

Michael laughed lightly, relaxing in his chair. "He just always speaks so highly of your relationship with Kurt. I mean, I can't tell you how many times I've had that thrown in my face, loudly and usually followed by a slamming door."

"It took Kurt and I a long time to get to this point,” Burt said with a sigh. “And I won't lie to you, it wasn't easy. It still isn't easy. But, no matter how different we are, it's my job to accept him completely as he is. And now that he knows that, the lines of communication are much easier to navigate."

"I don’t think Blaine thinks I accept him."

"I don't think he does either. Do you?" Burt ventured, careful to not insult him.

"Of course I do, he’s my son. I mean...it certainly hasn't been easy but I'm not a bigot.

Michael paused, his posture deflating. “I was just so afraid for him. After he, you know… came out, all of his old friends abandoned him. He was constantly bullied at school. Not even just names, physically too. My wife and I tried to talk to the school, and I supposed they acknowledged what was happening but nothing really changed. It felt like it got worse. And I'll admit...part of me just wished he wasn't really gay. Maybe, he was just unsure of himself and he would realize he was straight and all of this would stop for him.”

"Blaine told me he thinks you tried to make him straight."

"I just wanted him to be happy. I thought maybe if we did some traditional, father-son things together, he would be less fodder for all those guys he went to school with." He paused. "There is nothing more terrifying than getting a call telling you your little boy is in the hospital. He was so little, smaller than he is now…broken ribs, bruises everywhere. I was so angry with everyone. Angry at the kids who did it, angry at the people who didn't stop it, angry at Blaine for not listening to my concern and going to that dance with that boy anyway, angry at myself.

Burt nodded sympathetically, incredibly grateful he never had to live through something like that but knowing full well he could have.

“Well, Blaine’s a resilient kid. So is Kurt. And now they have each other to lean on.”

Both men eyed the box of the condoms on the desk between them.

“Kurt…Kurt is a good kid.” Michael said, averting his eyes away from the box and looking at Burt. “He seems to make Blaine really happy and I didn’t think he’d find that in Lima.”

“That makes two of us,” Burt said, leaning forward to rest his elbows and clasped hands on the desk.  “Blaine saved Kurt’s life. That may be unfair to Kurt to say that but I honestly don’t want to think about where Kurt would be right now if it hadn’t been for Blaine. You raised a really great son. I want you to know that.”

Michael smiled broadly with a flash of the same bit of self-deprecation that was so similar to Blaine; Burt couldn’t help but grin as well.

“Thank you. I’m glad to hear he’s been on his best behavior,” he said good-naturedly.

Burt barked out a laugh. “The day Blaine isn’t on his best behavior is the day Hell will freeze over. He’ll probably be calling me ‘Mr. Hummel’ or ‘sir’ for the rest of his life.”

They smiled at each other, both fathers secretly aware that the “rest of his life” was probably going to be true.

Michael cleared his throat and gestured to the condoms. “What do you think we…what should I do about this?”

Burt pursed his lips and settled back in his seat. “Kurt knows the rules at our house.  I remember was it was like to be an eighteen-year-old kid but I’m certainly going to have a conversation with him, make sure he isn’t breaking the rules. I guess it depends what type of regulations you want to make in your home.”

Michael stilled at the prospect of having to confront Blaine about sex. And not just hypothetical sex. Actual sex that was actually happening. In his house. Michael wasn’t even quite aware how two boys had sex. Well, he had a vague idea but not logistically. Burt seemed to sense his unease.

“Just try to be honest and understanding. You might be surprised how he reacts,” Burt advised calmly. “I told Kurt to remember he matters and it matters. And I’m positive with Blaine, whatever it is they’re doing, matters.”

Michael nodded numbly and grabbed the box of condom, placing them back in his briefcase. He smiled at Burt gratefully and extending his hand. “Thank you, I’m sorry for taking up so much of your time. You’re, uh, much better at this fathering thing than I seem to be.”

Burt waved his hand through the air and took his hand and shook it, “As far as I’m concerned, you couldn’t have done any better. I’m really, really glad you came by. We should all have dinner some time, Kurt’s the chef in the family, I’m sure he would love to throw some kind of dinner party.

“We would love that,” Michael said.  “Thank you.” Burt could tell he was saying thank you for much more than a dinner invitation.

“If you ever need anything, just let me know. Our kids are pretty attached, we may have to put up with each other for a while.”

“I hope so.”

(Considering writing a sequel with Blaine’s talk with his father. Anybody want that?)