Kurt sat at his vanity applying skin creams to his face, gently rubbing the moisturising products into his skin. In the mirror, over the shoulder of his own reflection, he could see Blaine lying on his stomach on the bed, his chin resting on his folded hands, watching him. He was dressed in an old pair of Kurt's sweatpants, which were too long in the legs for him, and one of Kurt's t-shirts, which clung to his chest and accentuated the swell of his biceps. His hair was still damp from his shower and dark curls clung to his forehead. He hadn't shaved in over a day and there was a dark shadow around his jaw. Every time Kurt glanced at this reflection his stomach would squeeze pleasantly and he would have to avert his eyes, his teeth gently biting down on his bottom lip.

"Do your producers know you won't be in to work today?" Blaine asked lazily, sounding half-asleep.

Kurt nodded, rubbing a small smear of cream into his nose. "I had Rachel call them and say I would be out of New York for a few days."

"What will they do about the show you were supposed to tape today?"

Kurt shrugged, unbothered by the fact that he was skipping a taping of his own show. "We're always a few shows ahead of the airing schedule, so either a re-run will be shown one day or I'll have to film on a Saturday to make up for it." He replaced the lid on the tub of cream he had been using. "That's why I'm not switching my phone on, I know Taylor will want to yell at me to go back to New York, but I'm not ready to return to all of that yet," he admitted, spinning round on his chair to face Blaine.

The corners of Blaine's mouth tugged up into a small smile. "Me neither," he said softly. "Ohio may be boring and small-town compared to New York, but it is actually nice being back here." He paused, looking faintly amused. "Now there's something I never thought I'd say."

Kurt stood and went to join him on the bed, sitting down by his head and letting his hand trail lightly through Blaine's curls. He smiled when Blaine sighed and closed his eyes at his touch. "What do you mean ‘it's nice being back here'? You haven't left this room since you got here; you could be anywhere!"

Blaine cracked open an eye and smirked up at him. "Yeah, and I'm having a very nice time."

Rolling his eyes, Kurt gently smacked the top of his head, but he couldn't prevent the smile from spreading across his face, no matter how hard he fought against it. Blaine just laughed softly and shut his eyes again, relaxing under Kurt's touch and going almost boneless against the bed.

Kurt did feel a bit bad about just taking off out of New York on a Thursday night when lots of people - producers, crew members, assistants, and an audience - were expecting him to be at the studios the next day to tape a show as usual. He felt a twinge of guilt at all the trouble Taylor would have gone through last night after receiving Rachel's phone call, but as he looked down at Blaine lying next to him, lashes fanned against his cheeks and his mouth curved in a small smile, all the guilt vanished. They may have gotten here under horrible circumstances, but he and Blaine needed this time here together and he wouldn't regret any of it, even though he should be working right now.

There was a tentative knock at the door and Kurt suddenly remembered that his family had no idea that Blaine was here. He met Blaine's slightly panicked gaze and smiled reassuringly at him. "I'll explain why you're here, it'll be fine," he assured him, getting to his feet and heading over to the door.

He heard the rustling of sheets and glanced over his shoulder to see Blaine scrambling into a sitting position. "Your family have never met me face-to-face before and they must hate me now after everything that happened yesterday," Blaine panicked. "Oh God, your dad was never keen on me to begin with and I proved his initial feelings right!" He wrung his hands together.

There was another knock. "Kurt, are you alright?" his dad's voice asked. "Are you awake?"

"Just a minute!" he called through the door. He hurried back across the room to Blaine, taking his hands in both of his. "Blaine, you have done nothing wrong. What happened yesterday was the fault of the media and myself."

Blaine started to protest, but Kurt cut him off. "You're a wonderful person Blaine, and my family will see that. I'll explain everything to them." He pressed a fierce kiss to his boyfriend's lips. "I love you and my family will love you as well." After giving him another quick peck on the lips, he crossed the room and opened the door just wide enough for him to slip out into the hallway.

His dad eyed him for a moment, his gaze travelling the length of him before returning to his face. He looked at him expectantly.

Despite his reassuring words to Blaine, Kurt felt his stomach churn with nerves. "Morning, Dad," he said weakly.

Burt looked pointedly at his watch. "It's almost three in the afternoon."

Kurt prodded at the carpet with his big toe. "Um, yeah, I was pretty worn out last night so I slept late."

Burt stared at him. "Uh huh," he said slowly. When Kurt didn't say anything else, just continued to assault the carpet with his foot whilst frantically trying to think how to explain the situation with Blaine to him, he stated matter-of-factly, "You've sorted things out with Blaine."

Kurt nodded, started to nibble apprehensively on his bottom lip, then stopped himself - his lips would be a split, cracked mess if he kept doing that. "Uh, y-yeah," he said roughly. He cleared his throat. "Yeah, he actually flew in from New York last night - or really early this morning, actually - and came over here to work things out." When his dad just continued to watch him impassively, he added hastily, "None of it was Blaine's fault, he's an amazing guy and didn't do anything wrong and-"

Burt held up a hand to stop him and Kurt broke off, gazing at him anxiously, his foot still worrying at the carpet. "I don't blame Blaine for the state you arrived here in last night and it wasn't your fault either, it's all those reporters and paparazzi assholes." He smiled at Kurt. "I have nothing against Blaine, so you can both stop worrying." He laid a hand on Kurt's shoulder and gave it a brief squeeze before turning away. "You two should come down and get something to eat; you must be hungry."

Kurt nodded; relief making his shoulders sag as the tension was released from them. "We'll be down in a minute." He spun around and began opening his bedroom door.

"Oh, and Kurt?"

Kurt glanced over his shoulder to see that his dad had paused by the top of the stairs. "If you and Blaine want to continue sharing a bed while you're both in this house then just remember that your family is here as well and the house isn't that big; we can hear some of what goes on upstairs from downstairs."

Heat flooded Kurt's face as his dad nodded at him and set off down the stairs. Fumbling with the door handle, Kurt pulled his door open and slipped back into his room. Blaine looked up from where he had been nervously fidgeting with a loose thread on the sheets to see Kurt shut the door and lean against it, his face flaming.

"What did you dad say?" Blaine asked. "Does he hate me?"

Kurt shook his head. "He knows what we were doing earlier, I think they all heard," he said, mortified.

Blaine's face crinkled in confusion. "What we were do-" His frown cleared suddenly. "Oh." A blush stained his cheeks.

"He's expecting us downstairs to have something to eat in a few minutes."

Blaine stared at him. "I'm not sitting down there with your dad when he knows we slept together!" He buried his face in his hands. "They heard us? Oh God," he groaned into his hands.

Kurt let his head fall back against the door with a soft thud. He wouldn't be able to look his dad in the eye for the rest of the weekend.

"Kurt? Blaine?" Carole's voice called up the stairs. "I've made you both some chicken pie."

Blaine lifted his head upon hearing Carole's voice. "We're going to have to go down there, aren't we?" he asked, not sounding particularly thrilled at the thought.

Kurt nodded. "Yes, we are." He groaned loudly, a sudden thought occurring to him. "I really hope Finn isn't there, his brain-to-mouth filter is virtually non-existent."

Blaine got to his feet and shuffled over to join him by the door, taking his hand and squeezing it reassuringly. Kurt reached out to tug the neck of Blaine's t-shirt up so it covered the large mark on his neck. Then, taking a deep breath, as though he was about to walk out to face a firing squad, he opened the door and led Blaine down the stairs and into the kitchen.

Burt and Carole were sitting at the table with cups of coffee in front of them talking about one of Burt's recent customers at the garage. Kurt felt Blaine tense when they both looked up at the sound of their arrival and Kurt smoothed his thumb over his knuckles.

"Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Hummel," Blaine all but squeaked out. "Sorry for showing up here so late at night and unannounced."

Carole smiled warmly at him. "Don't worry about it; we know you needed to see Kurt."

Blaine darted a quick, nervous glance at Burt as he and Kurt sat down at the table.

"You're always welcome in this house, Blaine," Burt told him, and Kurt felt Blaine relax a little next to him. Kurt let go of his hand after one last squeeze and picked up his cutlery.

"Where's Finn?" he asked as he speared some vegetables with his fork and Blaine hesitantly began to eat next to him.

"At the garage," Burt replied, swallowing a mouthful of coffee. "Had to finish repairing a car to return to a customer today." He set his mug down on the table and glanced between Kurt and Blaine. "So, have you two decided what you're going to do about all those media folks bothering you?"

Kurt and Blaine exchanged a quick glance. "Not really, no," Kurt said. "I need to fire my publicist for not doing his job, but we haven't thought much beyond that. Though getting a decent publicist will help a lot."

Carole frowned. "I always thought your publicist did a pretty good job. You've had him for years, what made him suddenly stop doing his job?"

Kurt shrugged, shaking his head. "I have no idea; I always thought he was decent as well."

"Maybe he was getting paid by someone to let those articles be published," Blaine suggested darkly. "It's happened before."

Kurt stabbed viciously at his food. "It doesn't matter why he suddenly did it, I'm not going to listen to his excuses, he's fired and that's it."

Burt nodded contemplatively. "It wouldn't hurt if you both had bodyguards with you when you go out anywhere." At Kurt's disapproving look, he added, "Just until all of this dies down."

"Which has to be soon, right?" Carole questioned anxiously. "They are bound to get bored of writing all this stuff soon."

Blaine nodded solemnly. "They should." He glanced quickly at Kurt. "I thought they would have moved on from pestering us daily by now, but they're still getting information on our private lives - most of it false - from somewhere."

Frowning down at his plate, Kurt caught Carole and Burt exchanging a worried look in the periphery of his vision. As little as he and Blaine knew about this mysterious source or sources that the media had - and they knew next to nothing - he had a suspicion that it was the work of one person, a theory that got stronger every time he heard about a new article. All the recent quotes and rumours from this source had the same message: Kurt was needy, possessive, and using Blaine for his money and fame. Whoever this source was, they didn't like him dating Blaine for some reason. Kurt had a strong gut feeling that this source was the same person who had been spying on them in Central Park.

Burt sipped at his coffee. "I think all you can really do is keep a low profile, get a new publicist, and consider having a bodyguard to keep the paparazzi at a comfortable distance." His eyes flickered between Kurt and Blaine and he let out a small sigh. "It would be better if you could stay here for a couple of weeks or so until things die down in New York, but I know that's not possible with you both being so busy with work."

Kurt nodded and exchanged another quick look with Blaine, whose mouth was curved up in a small, wistful smile. He knew Blaine would love to be able to stay here for longer and he would as well, but there was just no way it was possible at this time; his filming schedule was too full and Blaine was writing and preparing for an international tour in December.

"Thanksgiving," Kurt said firmly, his gaze on Blaine's face. "We'll come here for Thanksgiving."

"Wonderful!" Carole exclaimed happily.

"But won't you want to spend the holiday with your own family, Blaine?"

Blaine shook his head, dragging his gaze away from Kurt to look at Carole. "No," he said stiffly, "I wasn't planning on spending it with them."

Before anyone could comment on this, the front door slammed and a few seconds later, Finn strode into the kitchen looking around expectantly. "I smell chicken pie, can I have some? I'm starving!" He suddenly spotted Kurt and Blaine sitting at the table. "Oh, hey, Kurt!" His gaze shifted to Blaine. "And you're Blaine, right? That musician?"

Blaine cleared his throat. "Uh, yeah, that's me." He smiled tentatively up at the tall man towering over him. "It's nice to meet you."

Finn nodded. "Likewise, though I would have preferred to meet my step-brother's boyfriend before I heard him moaning your name."

"Finn!" Kurt squeaked in horror, heat flooding his cheeks as Blaine ducked his head, his face bright red.

"What?" Finn asked innocently as he accepted a plate of food from Carole who looked like she was pretending she couldn't hear the conversation. "It's the truth." He sank down into the chair Burt - who was now washing dishes rather loudly - had abandoned shortly after Finn had walked into the room.

Kurt just shook his head accusingly at him and grabbed Blaine's hand, pulling his still blushing boyfriend to his feet. "We're going to go call Rachel and Taylor and explain what's going on," he announced to the kitchen at large.

Carole smiled at them. "That's probably a good idea, I'm sure they're worried."

Burt just grunted his approval, his gaze still firmly fixed on the sink in front of him and Finn continued to shovel food into his mouth. Kurt tugged Blaine out of the kitchen and upstairs to his room.

As soon as Kurt closed the door behind him, Blaine groaned loudly. "You were right about Finn's lack of filter."

Kurt dropped Blaine's hand and pressed the backs of his hands against his still-warm cheeks, valiantly trying to cool them down. "I'm not going to be able to look my dad in the eye ever again, never mind the rest of the weekend."

Blaine leant forward and kissed the tip of his nose, smiling up at him reassuringly. "He's going to have to accept the fact that you aren't a kid anymore soon."

"Yes, but still, did he have to hear us?" Kurt said despairingly.

Blaine grinned at him mischievously. "Don't be so loud in the future then," he said in a low voice, almost a growl.

Kurt moaned softly and pressed his lips against Blaine's, pulling his boyfriend roughly towards him so their bodies were pressed together. When Blaine's fingers began trailing lazily down his ribs, Kurt reluctantly pulled away. "I need to call Rachel and Taylor and my family is downstairs, remember. I'm sure they don't want a repeat of earlier." Smiling and pecking Blaine's pout, he stepped out of Blaine's arms to go over to the nightstand to get his phone.

Blaine caught at his wrist. "Hold on a second." Kurt stopped and turned back to look at him curiously.

Blaine's eyes searched his. "We'll be ok now, won't we? Even with the press and everything?"

Kurt's gaze softened as he raised a hand to smooth out a wrinkle in Blaine's shirt. "Yes," he replied, nodding. "If the press situation continues to be as bad as it has been then I can't promise I won't get frustrated and stressed with it all, but I can promise you I won't react the way I did yesterday." He squeezed at the hand Blaine had just caught in his. "I love you and there's no way I could leave you like that again, not after knowing how awful it is thinking I'd lost you forever."

Blaine nodded, looking satisfied. "Ok," he whispered. He stepped forward and brushed his lips over Kurt's in a brief, sweet kiss. "Let's hope that a new publicist and maybe bodyguards will help improve things."

"Let's hope so," Kurt agreed, before going to fetch his phone.

"-and that was how we discovered that the Lima Bean is the best place for coffee in Lima," Kurt concluded, taking a sip of his coffee. He set the cup down again. "I'm all for trying out new places, but Rachel's idea of trying out every coffee shop in the area wasn't the best."

Blaine chuckled and glanced around the Lima Bean coffee shop. Though it was fairly busy, they hadn't been approached by anyone. It was such a nice change to be able to sit in a café without having paparazzi lurking around outside the doors and not being able to have some privacy. He didn't mind fans coming up to talk to him, he liked interacting with them, he wouldn't be where he was today if it wasn't for them, but what he didn't like was nosy, disrespectful people who just wanted to try and get an autograph to sell or some information that could be turned into an article. Unfortunately, lately, it had been more of the latter that had been approaching him and Kurt whenever they were out in New York.

Smiling across the table at his boyfriend, Blaine said, "I stand by what I said yesterday: it's nice being back in Ohio."

Kurt nodded in agreement, understanding what was on Blaine's mind. "It's a pity we have to leave tomorrow, but we'll be back in November for Thanksgiving."

The door of the coffee shop opened just as Blaine was about to reply and a familiar figure walked in. Blaine frowned at the woman as she rummaged through her purse. Her face was turned away and her hair was styled differently, but he was positive...

The woman looked up and approached the counter and Blaine got a clear view of her face.

It was his mother.

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, his eyes darting around the room as if looking for an escape route. He wanted to leave, now, before she saw him.

"Blaine, are you ok?"

Blaine snapped his gaze back to Kurt who was watching him with concern. "Um-" His gaze flickered over Kurt's shoulder to see his mother handing over some money to the barista. He looked back at Kurt. "My- My mother just walked in. She's at the counter just now," he said quietly.

Kurt's eyes widened and he twitched in his seat, wanting to look round at her but worried he would draw attention to them if he did so. "Do you want to leave?" he asked. Kurt knew the whole story behind Blaine's difficult relationship with his parents - his disgusted father and disappointed mother.

Nodding, Blaine fiddled apprehensively with the lid of his coffee cup as he watched his mother text on her phone while waiting for her coffee. "Can we, please?"

"Of course." Kurt got to his feet and picked up his coffee. After shooting a quick glance at the counter, he put his body between Blaine and the counter as they walked swiftly towards the exit. They were almost at the door and Blaine had just started to breathe a sigh of relief when-

"Blaine?"

He froze and next to him Kurt came to a sudden halt, his body as tense as his own. He considered for a second just grabbing Kurt's hand and sprinting out the doors, but he couldn't run from his family forever. He needed to stop running from his problems, that was what his song was about, wasn't it? Having the strength and courage to stand up to people who tried to tell him to change who he was.

Taking a deep breath, he slowly spun around. His mother was standing a few feet behind him, a coffee cup in her hand and an expression of shock on her face. She clearly hadn't expected to run into her son here any more than Blaine had expected her to be here.

Kurt took one of his trembling hands and his touch shot a bolt of courage through him. "Hi, mom," he said, his voice thankfully not quivering.

She just blinked at him and then her gaze flicked down to take in his and Kurt's entwined hands, before returning to his face again. Behind the slowly fading shock her expression was unreadable.

"What are you doing here?" she asked eventually, a bite of something Blaine couldn't quite discern in her voice. "I thought you lived in New York."

Kurt gripped his hand tighter and Blaine knew what he was thinking: how could a mother care so little about her son that she wasn't really sure where he lived? The sting of this was dull to Blaine now; he was used to his parents not bothering to really know their son, to actually care about him and take an interest in his life. He had been living with that since he was fourteen, since he came out to his parents.

He swallowed. "I do live in New York; I'm just here for the weekend."

Her gaze flickered over Kurt again and she took in his appearance with a disapproving sweep of her eyes. "I see," she said shortly.

He didn't want to do it, he wanted to put himself between Kurt and his mother's judging, insolent glare, but the habit of introducing Kurt was hammered into him and besides, who cared what his mother thought about Kurt? Her opinion ceased to matter the moment she began to remove herself from his life.

"Mom, this is my boyfriend, Kurt Hummel."

Her eyes flashed at the word ‘boyfriend' and her body stiffened as her eyes frantically scanned the coffee shop, checking if anybody had overheard.

Kurt smiled tightly at her. "It's nice to meet you," he said levelly.

Her gaze swept Kurt again. "You're the one with that talk show, aren't you?"

Kurt nodded. "Yes."

She held herself a little taller and gave a small, disapproving sniff and Blaine gritted his teeth. She sized Kurt and Blaine up for a moment and then the corners of her tight mouth curled up in a cold smile. "Thanksgiving is coming up, what are your plans, Blaine?" she asked in a bright voice at odds with her shadowed eyes.

"Kurt and I are actually coming back here to Lima to spend it with his family," he replied cautiously.

His mother nodded as if this answer pleased her. "Well then, you can come and pay your father and me a visit. We haven't seen you in ages."

Blaine narrowed his eyes - and whose fault was that?

She indicated Kurt with a nod of her head. "Kurt will be welcome as well, of course. Your father will want to meet your..." she paused for half a second, "boyfriend," she finished in a lower voice.

Blaine shot a quick, slightly panicked glance at Kurt, but before he had the chance to say anything in response, his mother glanced at her watch and adjusted her purse.

"I'll call you with the details closer to the time; I've got to run now." She nodded at them both. "I'll see you both at Thanksgiving." She walked around them and pushed the door open, leaving the coffee shop.

Blaine stared at the spot where his mother had stood, his hands trembling. Kurt smoothed his thumb over his knuckles. "Honey?"

He turned anguished eyes onto his boyfriend. "I- She-" he stuttered. "Fuck, I have to see them next month! I haven't spoken to my father in years! He thinks I'm a disgrace to the family, that I'm disgusting and worthless and now I have to-" He broke off with an infuriated sigh.

"You don't have to go," Kurt said, his thumb still stroking soothing patterns onto the back of Blaine's hand. "If you don't want to go, then don't."

"I really don't want to go," Blaine said, "but I'm done with running away from my problems all the time. If my parents want to see me, then fine, they will, but if they think I'm going to just sit there and take their criticisms and insults then they're wrong. I'm not a kid anymore; I don't need them in my life if they don't like who I am," he said firmly. He squeezed Kurt's hand. "You don't have to come if you don't want to; they're bound to say something degrading to you. You don't have to sit through all that."

Kurt dropped his hand to gently brush a loose curl back off his forehead, his fingers lingering on the skin. "I'll be there with you. I don't care what they say about me, I'll be there supporting you." He bent to kiss him, ignoring the frown an older woman sitting nearby was sending them. "I'll always be there with you," he whispered when he pulled away.

Blaine smiled softly at him as they left the Lima Bean, heading back to Kurt's house - somewhere where people actually approved of their relationship and cared about them.