"Fat indeed. You're just like your father, you can eat like a horse and never put a pound on." Callie raised her head to smile soggily at her Dad.

"You have to say that, you're my Dad. Maybe Seb's right."

"Oh God, don't tell me he's called Sebastian." Callie nodded, her light curls bouncing with the motion.

"That settles it then, he's a douche bag. Did your Pop ever tell you about Sebastian Smythe?" She shook her head and listened intently. Callie loved listening to storied about her parents' past, and Daddy always told them best, mostly because Pop had a habit of going off on a tangent.

" Settle in, this is a good one." Kurt settled himself against the headboard indicating for Callie to come cuddle with him.

***

Blaine returned to an unnaturally quiet house. Ordinarily when he got home there was Adele, or Lady Gaga sounding from the kitchen, while Kurt cooked and some version of what passed as rock these days blasting from Callie's room as their son, Thomas, practised Oboe. Blaine found Thomas emerging from the kitchen, a mug of steaming noodles in his hand.

"Hi sport, where's your Dad?" Thomas jerked his head down the hall wordlessly.

"Right - nice talking to you by the way, you should really let someone else get a word in at some point." Thomas cocked an eyebrow in such a good impression of Kurt that Blaine had to chuckle. He watched Thomas return to his bedroom, firmly shutting the door behind him, before he set his bag down and made his way down the hall. He peeked into his and Kurt's bedroom, but carried on down the hall finding Kurt and Callie curled up on Callie's bright purple bed. He leaned against the door jam for a minute, just watching them. Kurt was propped up against the sequinned headboard, his arms firmly wrapped around their slumbering daughter. Callie snuffled in her sleep causing Kurt to shush her, he kissed her forehead and noticed Blaine in the doorway. He smiled trying not to jostle Callie.

"Hey you." He whispered. Blaine entered the room sitting in the suede lilac desk chair next to the bed.

"Hi. I wondered where you disappeared to." Kurt smiled at his husband.

"Boy troubles." Blaine's lips formed a small 'O'.

"Already? She just turned 15 last week!" Blaine looked at his daughter barely believing she was 15. It didn't seem two minutes since he was holding her in that hospital.

"Hmm, some Neanderthal called her fat, captain of the hockey team or something. Fortunately I'm quite handy when it comes to boy troubles." Kurt winked cheekily at Blaine.

"Oh really? I'm trouble now am I?" Blaine pretended to look offended, earning a quiet giggle from Kurt.

"You've always been trouble. I explained that this boy is clearly delusional and we all have problems with idiotic boys at some point. She fell asleep half way through me telling her about Sebastian." Kurt looked slightly offended.

"Oh my God, you didn't" Kurt nodded.

"It's one of my best stories too..." Blaine shook his head in wonder. Here they were, twenty five years together and Kurt was still telling people about Sebastian. Honestly, Blaine envied his husbands memory for details sometimes.

"We should wake her, she won't sleep tonight."

"Hmm and she's wrinkling my favourite shirt." Blaine glanced at the crinkled blue Hummel Original gracing Kurt's figure, a dry chuckle escaped his throat.

"Well, we can't have that - " He reached a gentle hand out to Callie's arm to shake her. "Come on Sweetheart, wake up." A disgruntled groan emitted from the tangled curls on Kurt's chest and she burrowed in further. Kurt rolled his bright blue eyes and wriggled a bit.

"Just like her Pop. Callie - up now." Blaine raised his eyebrows at Kurt before leaning over Callie, talking directly in her ear.

"You need to wake up..." She tried to turn further away from him. "...Your Dad's going through your music, says he's replacing it all with show tunes." Callie bolted upright, rubbing her eyes quickly and scanning the room with her bleary hazel eyes.

"Wha - ? No show tunes - 's crap." Blaine giggled and made his way to the door.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, you wrinkled your Dad's shirt, I suggest you run." Blaine ducked just in time to avoid the pink pillow Kurt aimed at his head and retreated to the kitchen to begin dinner. Kurt appeared a few minutes later unbuttoning his shirt carefully. A heavy beat sounded from Callie's room and Kurt flicked his music on, Madonna today, as he placed his shirt in the laundry basket.

"That's more like it." Blaine hummed happily and began preparing chicken. He listened to the familiar beat of home, revelling in the domesticity. He had a bunch of papers to grade at some point and trying to coax Thomas out of the black hole his room had become was like pulling teeth, but he honestly loved every second.