Going on his first date was a lot less nerve-wracking and awkward than Blaine thought it would be. He had always imagined self-consciously picking out an outfit to wear and feeling nervous for the whole day, waiting for his date to arrive with sweaty palms and a pounding heart. Never did he imagine he would skip all of the hesitant glances and awkward smiles and already be in love with the boy he was going on his first date with. Never did he imagine that his first date would be with someone like Kurt.

Kurt claimed that the Lima Bean was the best coffee shop in Lima and although there was a risk of running into someone he knew from school there, he said he would rather that happen than have to drink crappy coffee. So they went, a few days after Christmas, and Blaine was thrilled at finally going on a date with his boyfriend, a feeling which only heightened when Kurt scanned the customers in the café and declared that he couldn't see anyone he recognised.

"You're still a bit jumpy," Kurt observed as they waited in the long line at the counter.

Blaine, who had just started slightly when a woman entering the coffee shop behind them called out a loud greeting to someone sitting at a table nearby, inhaled deeply, trying to relax; apparently, crowds still unsettled him.

"I just need a few minutes to get used to being in a public place again," Blaine replied. They shuffled forward another foot towards the counter. "I've spent most of the last year actively avoiding busy places, so I just need...time."

Kurt nodded in understanding. "Of course." He paused for a moment as they inched closer to the counter. "So, do you know what you want?" he asked brightly with a nod at the menu boards displayed on the wall ahead of them.

Glad that Kurt had steered the topic of conversation away from his emotional issues - he didn't want to spend their date dwelling on it - Blaine scanned the boards, suddenly realising just how long it had been since he'd last had a café-style coffee. "Umm..." He fiddled with the ends of his scarf as he ran his eyes down the list of drinks again. "What are you getting?" he asked a little lamely when nothing jumped out at him.

"A non-fat mocha," Kurt replied immediately. "But you don't have to get the same thing as me," he added, scanning the boards himself.

As Blaine continued to stare indecisively at the boards, Kurt turned to study him critically, as if he could learn Blaine's order just by looking at him. "Their lattes are pretty good," Kurt began slowly, "but you tend to take your coffee black in the mornings, so maybe something a bit stronger..." He trailed off and frowned back at the boards, his head tilted contemplatively to one side.

Blaine waited quietly for Kurt's verdict, being reminded strangely of the time his father had tried to pick out a sports team for him to join at school. He'd sat Blaine down and listed all the skills and attributes needed for each, dismissing most of them due to one of his many supposed flaws: too short, not enough muscle, too weak - always too weak...

He swallowed as Kurt turned to face him once again with a smile. "I think you should get either a latte or a drip coffee," he shrugged. "But get whatever you want; the coffee is actually all decent here, believe it or not." He bumped Blaine's hip gently with his own and Blaine smiled at him. He didn't really care about what drink he got. All that mattered was that he was here with Kurt.

They eventually reached the counter. The barista who asked for their order looked strained as she smiled tightly at them, her eyes drifting to the long queue of people behind them.

Kurt flashed her a quick smile. "I'll have a grande non-fat mocha, please, and he'll take a-" He looked at Blaine to finish the sentence.

"A medium latte, please," Blaine told her. He'd decided it would be best if he didn't have anything too strong in case it worsened his nerves. He shifted guiltily as Kurt handed over the money to pay for the drinks and biscotti; he wished he could afford to buy Kurt gifts and take him out for dinner and coffee. He lowered his gaze to the little bird pin on Kurt's coat and smiled in spite of himself; it was a pleasant surprise when he'd come downstairs wearing the brooch. Blaine had been right: the silver and blue combination looked good with his boyfriend's eyes.

They found a table in a relatively quiet corner of the bustling coffee shop, and as they sat down Kurt jealously eyed the bulging shopping bags from the post-Christmas sales that a couple of women at a nearby table had sitting by their feet, making Blaine smile and roll his eyes fondly.

"I heard you playing the piano last night," Kurt said as he loosened the scarf around his neck. "You sounded incredible. I wish I could play an instrument like that."

Blaine shot Kurt a look of mock outrage. "You were eavesdropping on my private playing session?" He shook his head. "Has nobody ever told you that is rude?"

Rolling his eyes, Kurt gently kicked at Blaine's leg under the table. "Shut up. I gave you that piano so that entitles me to listen to you play it whenever I want."

"We'll see about that," Blaine quipped with a grin. He eyed his coffee contemplatively, trying to decide whether or not it was worth risking burning his tongue to have a sip now or if he should wait a few minutes for it to cool down. "It's nice being able to play whenever I want again. When I lived with my parents I never got to practice as much as I wanted because my dad didn't approve of how much interest I took in the piano."

Kurt gave a small twitch at the mention of Blaine's parents and Blaine hastily changed the subject, not wanting their first date to be spent talking about his past or his parents.

"Those music books are really good." He picked up his coffee and began gently swirling it around inside the cup. "I'm guessing you picked them out and gave them to Finn," he added.

Kurt nodded. "I'd hoped things would have worked out between you two by Christmas." He took a sip of his coffee and took Blaine in. "I picked out that sweater for you as well," he added, nodding to Blaine's chest. "I chose well, the colour looks good on you."

Smiling shyly, Blaine dropped his gaze down to his coffee as a blush heated up his cheeks. Kurt brushed their ankles together under the table and Blaine glanced up to see his boyfriend smiling affectionately at him.

From thereon in it was perfect. The lingering nerves that had still been fluttering around in Blaine's stomach disappeared and he was completely at ease and happy - so very happy. He managed to forget about his past and pretend he was just a normal teenage boy out on a date with his boyfriend - his gorgeous boyfriend.

He watched as Kurt broke a piece off of the biscotti they were sharing, admiring the way his lashes fanned against his cheeks and how soft and thick his hair looked. He smiled at the light freckles dusting Kurt's nose and cheeks, the smile widening when Kurt wrinkled his nose at the crumbs he'd gotten on his jeans.

Kurt noticed him staring and paused in the middle of brushing them off. "What?" he asked cautiously. "Have I got something on my face?" He wiped a hand around his mouth.

Blaine just shook his head fondly. "I am so in love with you."

Kurt stopped brushing at the non-existent food on his face and smiled softly at him. "I love you, too."

One of the women at the next table frowned at them as she gathered up her many shopping bags, clearly having overheard. Kurt noticed her disapproving look and rolled his eyes, before swallowing the last of his coffee. "Want to head home?" he asked, ignoring the woman as she said something to her friend and they both glared scornfully at Kurt and Blaine.

"Sure," Blaine nodded. He raised his voice slightly so that it could be heard above the myriad of conversations and the whirring of the coffee machine and added pointedly, "We'll have privacy there." He watched the two women out the corner of his eye as they muttered something else to each other before stalking out of the coffee shop.

Kurt rolled his eyes again and began gathering up his scarf and coat. "Idiots," he muttered darkly.

Blaine finished winding the red scarf he'd borrowed from Kurt around his neck and waited patiently as Kurt buttoned up his coat. Kurt smiled at him when he reached his side and they began to head towards the fogged-up glass doors.

"I like that scarf on you," he revealed, tugging gently on the end of it.

Blaine grinned. "I'll have to start wearing your clothes more often then." He pushed open the door, shivering at the sudden blast of icy air that greeted him, and waving Kurt out ahead of him.

Kurt waited as he held the door for a small group of shivering people hurrying gratefully into the warmth of the coffee shop. He moved close to Blaine so their arms were brushing. "Oh, honey, you're far too short for most of my clothes," he said teasingly.

Nudging Kurt's shoulder with his own, Blaine started down the sidewalk in the direction of the small parking lot where they'd left Kurt's car, accidentally bumping into a tall man as he did so.

"Sorry," he apologised immediately, sparing a brief glance at the man.

The man stopped and brushed down the sleeve of his coat, looking Blaine up and down with something close to anger. "Watch where you're going, you little twerp," he snarled.

Blaine stumbled back a step in shock, but Kurt stood his ground, his expression hardening. "No need to be so rude," he bristled. "He apologised."

The man's dull brown eyes flicked to Kurt and his mouth twisted into an ugly expression as he took in Kurt's appearance. The look on his face made Blaine shudder and want to step in front of his boyfriend to hide him from view. He hovered close to Kurt's side, watching the man's sneer warily.

"Has nobody ever taught you fags to look where you're going?" the man asked, folding his arms over his chest and holding himself taller as he narrowed his eyes at them.

Blaine swallowed, his heartbeat starting to accelerate. He took in the man's imposing stature and tried not to let his nerves show. Placing a hand on Kurt's arm, he turned to walk away, wanting to leave before the situation escalated. "I'm sorry I bumped into you," he apologised again, speaking as calmly as he could. "Let's go, Kurt," he added in a whisper.

Kurt glared at the man for a second or two longer, before obeying and following Blaine as he started down the street again.

"Hey!" an angry voice shouted after them. "I wasn't done talking to you two."

Blaine and Kurt quickened their pace slightly, keeping their eyes fixed determinedly ahead of them despite Blaine's urge to see what the man was doing.

"Hey!" the man shouted again. There was the sound of running footsteps and then the man was in front of them again, blocking their way to the parking lot. Blaine felt panic rising inside him as he frantically looked around to see if there was anyone nearby who might be able to help them if things got worse.

"I knew you fags didn't have any morals, but I didn't realise you didn't have manners either," the man sneered in disgust. He took a heavy step towards them, coming within hitting distance, and Blaine's heart began to throw itself wildly against his ribcage. "But I probably should have known that," he continued. "If your kind had any manners then you would know how wrong it is for you to prance about in public with other men. Nobody wants to see that filth." His face screwed up like he'd just tasted something unpleasant.

Trembling, Blaine pressed closer to Kurt's side, trying to draw support from him as his chest tightened and his breathing turned fast and shallow.

The man scowled at them. "It's about time someone taught you fairies a lesson."

A cold sweat broke out on Blaine's back and face and he began to shake uncontrollably as a sudden, vivid memory filled his head - standing near the back stairwell at school, trapped by four older boys in letterman jackets. One of them - the biggest of the group - had taken a step closer to him as he clenched his fists threateningly, his knuckles bulging. Blaine had stumbled backwards, clutching at the strap of his satchel and trying to avoid getting too close to the edge of the stairs.

"It's time someone taught you a lesson," the jock boy announced as his friends jeered in encouragement.

Blaine's sweaty hand had slipped on the strap of his satchel as he staggered further away from the advancing bullies, his lower back colliding hard with the edge of the banister. He'd winced as pain flared across his already bruised back...

Fighting the memory, Blaine tried to stop the wild panic rising rapidly inside him as Kurt said something in reply. Blaine couldn't hear it; the world was starting to spin around him in a dizzying blur as he struggled to get air into his lungs. A phantom flash of pain burned across his lower back.

There was raucous laughter as the group of teenage boys continued to taunt him and Blaine just wished he could go back to when he was a little boy, to when nobody labelled him and the word gay wasn't even thought of around him. Back to when everything was simpler and his parents actually seemed to love him...

"-maybe then you'll start behaving like a man," the man spat in unison with the boys from his memory. The world continued to spin around Blaine as he gasped for air. It felt like his lungs were working but there still wasn't enough air entering them. His panic mounted.

"Blaine?" Kurt's voice sounded distorted, as though he was speaking to him from underwater. A hand was placed on his shoulder, one which he would have thrown off had the weight not felt so comforting even in his dizzy, disorientated state.

Something else was shouted, but Blaine only heard a roar of noise above the frantic gasping. The hand on his shoulder tightened its grip and a pressure was placed on his back until he stumbled blindly forward.

Kurt's voice murmuring words he couldn't really hear in a soothing voice. The warm touch guiding him along the street, and then off to the left. The familiar clicking sound of Kurt's car doors being unlocked, and then opened. Hands guiding him forward to sit down in the car.

"Deep breaths, Blaine, come on," Kurt encouraged calmly. His hand rubbed at Blaine's thigh. "Breathe in..."

Blaine latched onto the instruction like it was a lifeline. He sucked in as deep a breath as he could manage.

"...and breathe out," Kurt continued, exhaling along with Blaine.

He could still hear their voices in his head and see the faint outlines of them crowding him at the top of the stairs, but it was all blurry and indistinct; Kurt's voice and the sight of his blue eyes were much clearer. He inhaled along with Kurt again and the world around him started to come back.

"Breathe out..."

The trembling in Blaine's limbs lessened and the taunting voices of his memory faded back into the deep recesses of his mind. Another deep breath later and the remaining outline of the stairwell disappeared. Now that his panic was dulling he could feel the tears clinging to his face, the cold sweat on his skin, the tension in his muscles; he forced them to relax.

Kurt rubbed at his thigh again. "Keep breathing, baby."

Blaine nodded and sucked in another deep breath. "Kurt..."

"Shh, it's ok," Kurt shushed him, reaching up to gently wipe the tears from his face.

"I'm sor-"

Kurt kissed Blaine's cheek and then the tip of his nose. "It's ok, Blaine." He tilted his head so their foreheads rested together. "It's ok," he repeated in a whisper.

Letting his eyes fall shut and breathing in Kurt's comforting scent, Blaine blindly reached for his hand and linked their fingers together, feeling the last of the fear leaving him as his breathing and heart rate settled back into their normal rhythms.

He didn't know how long they sat there with their hands clasped and their eyes closed, but it was a while later when Kurt shifted against him.

"Do you want to go home now?" he murmured.

Blaine opened his eyes to find Kurt watching him. When their eyes met Kurt pressed a soft kiss to Blaine's lips. Blaine nodded and Kurt moved back, reaching behind him to open the car's back door and climbing out into the cold.

Once they had both transferred into the front seats, Kurt began driving them home, his eyes flicking in Blaine's direction every now and then. Blaine watched the shops and houses flash passed the window. "What happened to that guy?" he asked.

"He freaked out when he saw you struggling to breathe and took off."

"Panic attack," Blaine clarified. "It was a small panic attack. I was remembering some bullies taunting me at school."

They stopped at a red light and Kurt took the opportunity to look over at him. His lips parted like he was about to say something, but then he changed his mind and took his hand off the steering wheel to smooth it across the back of Blaine's neck, sliding his fingers up into the thick, dark curls and scratching lightly at the scalp. Blaine hummed softly in appreciation and Kurt moved his hand higher, massaging soothingly, until the light turned green and he was forced to withdraw.

"Have you ever had a panic attack before?" Kurt asked a minute or so later.

Blaine shook his head. "No, that was the first one. Eric had one once, though, and told me about it."

"It looked like a panic attack to me," Kurt agreed as he braked and steered the car into the driveway. When the engine was off and silence surrounded them, he turned in his seat to face Blaine. The shorter boy met his gaze hesitantly, twisting his hands in his lap. Kurt's expression was worried and conflicted, and then he raised a hand and brushed a few stray curls back from where they'd been falling into Blaine's eyes. "You need a haircut," he declared.

Blaine tugged ruefully at a lock. "A year ago I would have never dared to let my hair get this long - I used to slick it back with gel, you know?" he reminisced with a soft huff of laughter as he remembered how important it was to him to meticulously style his hair each morning.

"You used to-" Kurt blinked at him in surprise. He shook his head, a stunned smile on his face. "I don't think I want to know how much product you had to dump in your hair to slick it down." He cocked his head slightly to one side, like a curious bird. "I can't picture you with anything but the curls," he added musingly.

Blaine gave another small laugh. "It made me look about twelve years old, especially with the way I dressed."

Kurt opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by a knock on the window behind Blaine's head. They both started and Blaine spun round to find Burt peering at them through the lightly misted glass. He raised an eyebrow at them when, after a bit of fumbling around, the window was lowered.

"There a reason you boys are sittin' out here?"

Blaine shook his head just as Kurt spoke up behind him. "No, we were just- We're just coming inside."

Burt eyed them for a few seconds longer, something in his gaze making Blaine flush lightly, and then he nodded and stepped back from the car. "Don't stay out here too much longer; it's cold out." He walked off down the driveway with the bag of trash he was carrying and Kurt and Blaine clambered out the car.

Blaine could feel Burt's eyes on them as they entered the house. He wondered if he knew that they were more than friends, but quickly dismissed the thought - how could he possibly know? He and Kurt had been very careful not to show too much affection when they were in the company of others; they only ever kissed or held hands when they were positive they were alone. And if Burt did know, surely he would have spoken to them about it.

Kurt couldn't stop picturing Blaine's panic-stricken face. It had been like something out of a nightmare, his own worry and fear replaced with sheer terror and helplessness when he'd glanced over at Blaine. He thanked whatever instinct or rush of adrenaline that had enabled him to remain calm enough to help his boyfriend.

His hand automatically smoothed over Blaine's forehead again, stroking the too-long curls back from his face. They were lying on Kurt's bed, Kurt with his back against the pillows, Blaine with his head resting in Kurt's lap and his legs tucked up close to his body. Blaine was breathing softly and evenly against Kurt's legs, eyes closed, creating a small warm patch, while Kurt frowned down at his boyfriend's peaceful face, his mind clinging to the memory of his panic attack less than two hours ago.

It was the look in Blaine's eyes that had been the worst. The beautiful, golden irises had been dulled by fear, begging him to help him breathe. Kurt slid the hand that wasn't smoothing Blaine's hair back up to rest on the smaller boy's ribcage, where he could feel every inhale and exhale he made.

"I'm ok, you know," Blaine spoke up suddenly. Kurt started, and the small jerk of his hand against Blaine's ribs made him crack his eyes open to blink up at him sleepily.

Kurt breathed out slowly and rubbed his thumb against Blaine's side. "I know you are now, but I just-" He broke off and trailed his fingers slowly through Blaine's hair again, watching the way locks of it curled around his fingers.

"You just worry," Blaine finished for him. He rolled onto his back so he was able to look Kurt directly in the eye. "What happened today was just a one-off. It was my first encounter with someone like that in almost a year, so it was bound to bring up old memories, and since I was also out in public for the first time in months I reacted more strongly than I normally would have."

Kurt traced the length of one of Blaine's cheekbones with his finger, still seeing the terrified eyes set in a pale, strained face.

"I'm ok," Blaine insisted again, giving Kurt an easy smile before closing his eyes again and rubbing his cheek against Kurt's leg.

Nibbling absently on the inside of his bottom lip, Kurt continued to study his boyfriend's familiar features, his gaze lingering on the long eyelashes fanned against his cheek, the slightly chapped pink lips, and the few freckles on his nose and cheeks only visible at this close a distance. So beautiful and vulnerable.

He was starting to see what Carole had been saying on Christmas Eve when she told him there was only so much he could do to help. He was out of his depth. He had only just been able to help Blaine get through his panic attack, but he had no idea of how to help him now. No matter how often Blaine insisted that he was ok, Kurt knew he wasn't, and he was out of ideas of what could help.

Leaning down, he pressed a soft kiss to Blaine's forehead, followed by another to the tip of his nose, below his left eye, the corner of his mouth... He loved this boy so much, but he just couldn't be the only one to help him anymore. He wasn't going to let Blaine say he was fine while all his pain continued to fester inside him; that would only make things worse in the future.

"You're still worrying," Blaine noted without opening his eyes.

Sighing, Kurt smoothed out a wrinkle in the shoulder of Blaine's shirt. "I just wish I could be of more help," he despaired. "You've been through so much that you need to work through and I just can't help with all of it. I'm in way over my head here." He looked helplessly up at the ceiling, as if all the answer might be printed up there. "I'm lost."

Opening his eyes, Blaine sat up and faced Kurt. "You're not lost," he insisted rather fiercely. "You've helped me so much."

"That's the problem: I have helped you, but I can't anymore; not as much as you need." Kurt lowered his gaze away from Blaine's pleading face. Blaine could try and convince him that he didn't need any more help, but it wouldn't work; he knew that Blaine was struggling with his past more than he was letting on.

Seeing that Kurt wasn't backing down, Blaine shrugged. "I guess I could try talking to Carole or maybe even your dad," he suggested, his eyes focused on where he was tracing circles on Kurt's thigh with his index finger.

"I- Maybe," Kurt agreed quietly. When Blaine didn't respond, Kurt cupped his jaw and tilted his head up so their eyes met. "Hey," he said softly, "I just want you to be happy."

"I am-"

Kurt cut him off by placing a finger to his lips. "You could be happier. You're not truly happy yet - today and Christmas Eve are proof of that."

Blaine opened his mouth, and then closed it again, his resignation to the truth clear in his eyes. Sliding his hand round to cup the back of Blaine's neck, Kurt leant forward and gave him a tender kiss.

"I love you," he stated when they parted. He nosed at Blaine's face and jaw until a smile appeared on his boyfriend's face.

"Love you, too," Blaine replied, moving in for another kiss. "And thank you," he added after he sat back. "You're probably right. It's for the best that I talk to someone else about everything."

Carole called them down for lunch a few minutes later, and after the meal was over and everything was cleared away, Blaine wandered off to go play the piano. Kurt, instead of going with him to listen as he usually did, remained in the kitchen with his dad on the pretence of wanting to look up some recipes for the remainder of the Christmas leftovers. He flicked through the pages, occasionally pausing to examine a recipe with mild interest, before he turned the page, keeping most of his attention on his father as he wondered how to broach the topic of the day's events with him.

Burt was sitting across the table from him, looking through some mail. When Kurt's gaze began to drift, thoughts still on Blaine, he caught his dad watching him thoughtfully. Blinking, Kurt returned his attention to the open book in front of him.

"You're in love with Blaine, aren't you?" Burt said casually a minute or so later.

Kurt's head shot up. A blush bloomed on his cheeks as he gaped at his father in flustered surprise. "Wh- What? How did- What?" he spluttered.

Burt calmly folded up the bill that was lying open on the table in front of him and placed it back into its envelope. "I see the way you look at him and the way you behave around each other - you'd have to be blind not to see it. I've noticed it since the day I met Blaine."

Flustered and slightly panicked, Kurt stammered incoherently for a moment while his face burned with a blush that told his dad everything that he wasn't. After about a minute of spluttering his way through a few weak denials, Kurt sighed and admitted defeat.

"Yes, I'm in love with Blaine." He hesitated, his blush somehow managing to deepen, and then decided to tell the whole truth - it had been a secret for too long. "We've been together since before he left the attic."

He braced himself for his dad to get mad, but the lecture never came. Instead, his dad nodded. "I know," he stated calmly.

Kurt blinked at him in shock. "You- You know?" His dad continued to stare at him with an unreadable expression and Kurt nervously fidgeted with the corners of a few pages of the recipe book, flicking them between his fingers and causing tiny creases to appear. "Are you mad?" he asked tentatively after a long stretch of silence.

Burt shook his head and relief caused most of the tension to drain out of Kurt's muscles. "No," he sighed, adjusting the cap on his head. "But I wish you'd stop hiding things like this from me, buddy."

Biting his lip, Kurt lowered his gaze to his lap, feeling ashamed. He hadn't wanted to keep it a secret, but he thought that would be the best thing for Blaine. He should have realised his dad would discover the truth for himself.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I should have told you everything from the start."

Burt nodded. "You should have."

There was an uncomfortable pause during which Kurt squirmed under his dad's gaze.

"Is there anything else about Blaine I should know?"

Kurt shifted again. There was no anger in his father's tone, not even any disappointment, but there was an undercurrent of disapproval at how Kurt had handled the situation with Blaine. "There isn't," he swore, finally looking up at his dad again. He hesitated before adding, "Except, well...This isn't something I've been keeping secret - it only happened this morning - and well, it's not-" He cut off his own stammering and got to the point. "Blaine had a panic attack when we were out at the Lima Bean earlier."

Burt's frown disappeared, replaced with a concerned look. "A panic attack? Is he ok? What happened?"

Kurt swallowed thickly. "He accidentally bumped into some homophobic jerk while we were walking back to the car. He started to yell at us, and Blaine had a flashback to being harassed at school and he- he-" Kurt choked on the tears that sprung up at the memory. "H- He could barely breathe, and- and he looked so terrified and I was so scared..." He trailed off when his breath caught in his throat.

His dad's hand covered his, giving it a small squeeze and rubbing it comfortingly. "You helped him through it?" He was stating a fact, not asking a question.

Kurt nodded, too choked up to speak.

"And he's alright now?" When Kurt nodded again, Burt patted his hand. "And what happened to the asshole who was harassin' you?"

"He ran off when he saw that Blaine wasn't breathing," Kurt sniffed.

Burt started to say something else, something about how he was sick of the way some people treated gay people, but Kurt barely heard him, he was remembering the conversation he'd had with Blaine before lunch.

"I think Blaine needs someone else to talk to," he blurted out suddenly, interrupting his dad mid-speech. "Someone who knows exactly what to say to him and who can help him. I just- I'm not enough anymore. I don't have the knowledge or experience."

Removing his hand from atop Kurt's and rubbing at his chin thoughtfully, Burt nodded. "You think he should see a therapist or something?"

Kurt hesitated. "I haven't suggested it to him yet and I don't know if he'd be up for it. He's still a bit nervous around strangers."

Burt was silent for a moment, his eyes thoughtful. "How was he at the coffee shop today? Before the panic attack?"

"A little jumpy when we first arrived, but after that he was fine..." Kurt smiled at the memory.

Nodding again, Burt began sweeping the mail into a neat stack. "Talk to him about seeing a specialist. I think speaking to a professional would do him a lot of good." He got to his feet and headed for the doorway. "Oh, and Kurt?"

Turning in his chair, Kurt faced his father. "I'm happy for you," he said sincerely. "I'm glad you and Blaine found each other."

With a warm smile at his surprised son, Burt left the room.