It was three weeks after ‘The Incident' as Kurt had dubbed it, when Burt finally had had enough. His son was (for the fourth weekend in a row and he'd only been at Dalton for a month) sitting in the living room in Burt's favorite armchair giggling at his phone, Burt stretched out on the couch, watching him. He knew Kurt didn't deal well with prying but his curiosity won and so Burt found himself turning his attention on his son rather than the screen on Sunday afternoon.

"So, who is it you're texting with all the time?" he asked during a particularly awful commercial, trying to sound as casual as possible. Just the way Kurt blushed an impressive shade of scarlet and looked like he wanted to throw his phone out the window and jump after it to destroy all evidence assured Burt what he'd already known: Whoever his son had been communicating with so incessantly wasn't just a friend.

"I- oh well, it's just- just my roommate," Kurt stammered, eyes wandering back to the screen and staring unseeingly at it to avoid Burt's questioning gaze and raised eyebrow.

"That short kid we ran into when we brought your stuff there? With the oiled hair and the pamphlets?"

"Dad!" Kurt looked so indignant on the boy's behalf that Burt was sure there was something going on.

"What? What was his name again? Clark? Wayne? Devon?"
"Blaine, Dad. Blaine," Kurt grumbled, returning his attention to his phone, immediately back to giggling.

"And what are you and that Blaine kid texting about all day long? You see each other all week. You're even sharing a room," Burt said, furrowing his brow as that piece of information really registered. Was his son getting up to funny business with his roommate?

"We just like keeping each other up-to-date," Kurt murmured defensively, blush back and rising high on his cheeks.

"Sure thing, kiddo." Burt rolled his eyes when he was sure that Kurt wasn't looking in his direction, transfixed by his phone as soon as he turned away from him. He let Kurt delude himself into feeling save from further prying for a while before he picked the topic up again.

"So, this Liam kid-" "Blaine, Dad, Blaine!" "anyway, you're friends with him?"

Kurt just rolled his eyes but managed to lift his gaze from his phone's screen for a moment. "Yes, Dad," he said with an exasperated sigh. "And I told you about that from day one. So why are you so interested in my texting habits now when you can't even remember his name?"

Burt furrowed his brow. "Hey, I'm always interested in what you're up to. You're my only son and you know how much I care about you. I'm just trying to make sure you're not hanging around with the wrong crowd," he mumbled, knowing full well that he sounded a bit ridiculous. That Blaine kid really hadn't looked like he was working as a drug dealer on the weekends. Still, you could never be sure enough.

Kurt's expression softened immediately. "I know that, Dad. Don't worry, Blaine is one of the good guys." Flushing bright red yet again Kurt made to grab for his phone when Burt cleared his throat and he stopped dead in his movement.

"So," Burt started, taking a deep breath to make sure he was able to pull through with this. "You two, are you like... dating?"

He didn't dare to look up into Kurt's eyes until he heard Kurt's indignant sputter. He found him blushing an even darker shade of red, eyes decidedly fixed on the news anchor reading the latest football news. If Burt hadn't known how little interest his son actually held in sports he'd almost have bought his feigned concern with the Buckeyes' descent.

When Burt just kept staring at him, patiently waiting for a response, Kurt seemed to give up and turned to him with a resigned sigh, cheeks still bright red.

"No, no we're not." But his voice held something that made Burt want to squirm in his seat and hide his little boy in his bedroom and lock the door. Kurt's ears were twitching as if they couldn't decide whether they should press flat to his head in anxiety or stay alert for his reaction, his tail curled around him and resting in his lap and it made Burt think of the countless times he'd sat with a much younger Kurt on this exact same couch, his back then still short tail gently flicking behind him as he scratched his ears while watching a game. The thought of someone else being handed the possibility of hurting Kurt's feeling, the responsibility of making him feel happy and save as much as he could... Burt didn't even want to think about it, not just yet, never if possible. But there were things he'd never be able to give Kurt and if he wanted his kid to be happy he'd have to man up and look the facts in the face, whether he felt ready to or not.

"But you want to?" he asked, proud that his voice only wavered in the slightest.

Taking a deep breath, Kurt closed his eyes, hands clenching in his lap. "Yes," he finally hissed out, opening one eye to throw a careful look at his father. Burt did his best to keep his expression neutral. He nodded once.

"And what about him? He's not interested?" Burt secretly planned on hunting down the idiot that didn't want his perfect boy should the answer be negative. As much as he was scared to accept that his baby was almost a grown man by now, he'd rather not have a repeat of last year and that heartbroken look back on his face.

"No, that's not it. He is," Kurt whispered, a small smile spreading on his face. He looked back to Burt expectantly, as if he was just waiting for him to explode.

"So what's it then?" Burt asked, trying to school his features into an only vaguely interested expression.

"We want to wait. We- we sort of admitted that we have feelings for each other my first week at Dalton. But Blaine thought that was way too early and that it would be better if we really got to know each other first, work on our friendship," Kurt explained, voice falling flat.

"But you don't want to wait anymore," Burt stated. He didn't need to question it, he could see it in Kurt's expression, his posture, hear it in his voice. Actually he was pretty sure even a stranger could have made that much out from his body language alone.

"No," Kurt admitted with a sigh, slumping into the chair. "I really just want to kiss him again."

It took him a second until he noticed what he'd been saying, quickly slapping a hand over his mouth, face red and eyes panicked as they wandered over to Burt.

He merely raised a questioning eyebrow. "You said you told each other during your first week? So you kissed then. During that little celebration when you got into that choir? So much for my ‘no funny business'-rule."

"Dad!" Kurt gasped, pulling his hand away from his mouth. "There wasn't any ‘funny business'." He looked down into his lap, fidgeting with his hands. "It was barely a peck, really." His voice became quieter with every word.

"Really?" Burt inquired, trying to catch Kurt's eye. If they had to talk about this he wanted an honest answer.

"Yes, really." Kurt finally looked up, furrowing his brow at Burt's disbelieving expression. "What? You don't believe me?"

"Well, you just seem very... invested for just a short peck," Burt murmured, clearing his throat to break the awkward silence that had long since settled into the room in between their sentences.

"It was very special to me," Kurt said with a small but genuine smile, one of those that Burt had seen much too little of ever since Elizabeth had died.

After a while of both of them sitting in silence and thinking about what had just been said, Burt cleared his throat again to get Kurt's attention. "So, have you talked about it?"
"What?" Kurt asked, looking as if he'd been lost in his own thoughts, caught off guard by the question.

"That you don't want to wait anymore. Have you told him?"

"No, Dad." Kurt shook his head, looking almost wistful. "I can't do that. Blaine said he wanted to wait until we know more about each other and are more comfortable with each other. I still jump every time our shoulders so much as brush when we're studying together." Hesitantly, he looked back to Burt. "Is that stupid? I- I really want to kiss him again and just be with him without worrying about what I'm allowed to think and do and what not. But even if we were together that would probably take a long time and- and he's right, Dad. If I can't even let my guard down for my best friend, how is a relationship between us going to work?"

"It's not stupid, bud," Burt murmured, gesturing for Kurt to come over and sit next to him. As soon as he did, Kurt let his head fall to Burt's shoulder, burying his neck in the warm flannel that smelt of their detergent and home and a little bit like motor oil. "Actually, it's very mature of you and I have to say I'm impressed."

"Really?" Kurt sniffed into his neck.

"Really," Burt said, hesitantly petting his back. "You're doing the right thing, kiddo. Just... don't wait too long, okay?"

Kurt looked up at him, disbelief written all over his face.

"What?" Burt chuckled. "I know you expect me to want you to wait until you're thirty. And I'm telling you that I'd prefer that. But you're growing up now, kiddo, and I can't protect you from everything. Not anymore. This is something I can't really make rules about. I can't tell you who to fall in love with and when. I remember what it was like when I first met your mother, Kurt. I'm glad you're going about this responsibly. But I also saw that smile on your face when you talk about him. Or when you get a new text. Just promise me you're not going to miss out on this."

"I promise, Dad," Kurt choked out, eyes shining and a single tear escaping down his cheek. He wiped it away with a quiet laugh. "Thank you."

"Anytime, kiddo," Burt chuckled, pulling Kurt closer again until he was leaning into his shoulder, gently scratching his ears until he curled up against him, tail swishing gently and purring contently. They sat like that for quite a while, watching the remarkably stupid game show on the screen in silence except for the low rumble of Kurt's purring.

"So, what do you say to inviting Blaine to Friday night dinner?" Burt said as casually as possible just as Kurt was about to drift off. The purring stopped immediately and Kurt shot up, sitting against the couch instead of lying draped across his father.

"Really?"

"Yes, really," Burt chuckled, the low sound turning into booming laughter when Kurt's dumbfounded expression switched to delight and he suddenly had an armful of purring, tail flicking boy in his lap.