Buoyed by his dad's support Kurt took two mugs of coffee up to his room.  Blaine was still fast asleep, curled up a little more in the covers as if he missed the warmth of Kurt's body.  Smiling a little to himself he set the mugs down on the side and slipped back in beside him, pulling the covers free.

"It's OK," he soothed as Blaine stirred.

"What time is it?" he muttered.

"Early."

"I can smell coffee."

Kurt laughed and pressed a kiss into Blaine's temple.

"No, seriously.  Tell me there's coffee here.  I have missed coffee."

Getting back up he brought the mugs over and handed Blaine's over to him.  "How are you feeling this morning?"

"...Human," Blaine decided on.  "Much more so than 24 hours ago."

Kurt didn't want to think where Blaine had woken up yesterday morning so he focussed on now, on today.  Today he was here and that was what mattered.

"You OK?" Blaine asked.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

"I knew where I was all weekend."

"I'm fine," Kurt said, settling against the headboard and cupping his mug.  "I am now anyway."

"Me too," Blaine smiled.

"So..."

"So..."

They fell into an uncomfortable silence, both of them trying to focus on their coffee and not the elephant in the room.

"Hey man," Finn called as he walked into the living room.  "Good to see ya."

"Hey," Blaine said, looking up from the book he'd been staring at.  "Um...  I heard you spent the whole weekend out looking for me.  Thanks and... um, sorry?"

"It's fine," Finn said, dropping onto the couch next to him.  "I mean, it's not but...  Kurt loves you, we care about him...  It's one of those... things, y'know.  What's important to him is to us," he said, hoping the wave of his hand conveyed what he was trying to say.

"Thanks anyway."

"No probs."

"Can I...?  This weekend...  Kurt...?"

"I've never seen him like that before," Finn said quietly.  "I mean, I've seen him worried. All that stuff with Karofsky and when Burt was sick...  But this weekend?"

"Sorry."

"It wasn't your fault."

"I was the one who ran..."

"For a good reason?" Finn asked.

"I...  I thought so."

"Now?"

"I don't know.  Things are... complicated."

"They always are."

"My dad...  He's... got some very particular idea about how I should be living my life."

"What about what you want?" Finn asked and then held up his hands.  "OK, I do not want to know the answer to that question," he laughed, the smile staying put when he noticed Blaine was laughing too.  "One thing I learnt this weekend, just in case it wasn't obvious toeveryone who even sees Kurt when you're about?  He loves you.  And if there's anything he can do to help then you gotta let him."

"I will," Blaine smiled.  "Thanks Finn."

"Anytime.  Only next time without the runaway stuff?"

"Sure."

Finn pushed up from the couch and headed out to the hallway where Kurt was waiting for him.

"Anything?" Kurt asked.

"Nothing you didn't already know," Finn replied, "but he will talk to you."

"I know, I know, I just...  I hate waiting!"

"Dude, just give him time."

"Thanks for trying," Kurt sighed, walking into the living room.  He dropped down onto the couch beside his boyfriend and tried not to stare at him.  "You OK?" he settled for.

"Yeah," Blaine said, putting down the book and all pretence of reading to curl up next to him.  "Been thinking."

"About?"

"I... want to speak to Dad."

No matter what he'd said Kurt hadn't been able to talk Blaine out of it.  He knew it probably wasn't the right thing to do but he couldn't help it.  Because of Mr Anderson his boyfriend had gone missing for the whole weekend.  He'd slept rough and he would have kept running if he'd not decided to drop the letter off at the garage.

(Kurt suspected that Blaine wanted to be stopped, that he knew Burt wouldn't let him run again.  But he didn't want to find out the answer to that in case he was wrong.)

He'd never really hated anyone before in his life but he was giving it a damn good go with Mr Anderson.  When he'd failed to talk Blaine out of it he'd given him the space to make the call and tracked down the one person he thought would be on his side.

"Surely it's a good thing," Burt had said, glancing up from his paper.  "I mean there's something goin' on between 'em and they need to sort it out."

"Dad!"

"Look, kid.  I know you're worried.  But you gotta give him space to sort this thing out."

"I have done nothing but give him space.  I am desperate to know what the hell happened but he's not saying anything.  He's calling his dad and arranging a meeting and all I can think of is what if it happens again?  What if he runs?  I'm terrified that I'm going to lose him and I feel like I'm just... sitting back and watching it happen."

"OK, first off kiddo," Burt said, putting the paper down and clasping his hands together, "you are not going to lose him.  I don't know if you've noticed how that boy is when you're about?  When he turned up at the garage he was wound up and scared and lost.  One day here and he's... well, better.  Not fixed but better.  And that's down to you.

"Secondly, I know you're worried about what's going to happen.  But you can't control what he does."

"I can try," Kurt muttered, folding his arms in defiance.

"Yeah, and if you do then you really are gonna push him away.  And you know I'm right."

Kurt sighed and unfolded his arms, putting his head in his hands instead.

"I have a question for ya," Burt said.  "If I'd told you that Blaine was sleeping in Finn's room or on the couch, no arguments, what would you have said?"

"I'd have said no way," Kurt said, looking up quickly.  "He needs me, Dad, and nothing is going on..."

"This is my point," Burt replied.  "You and Blaine, right now you need each other.  And even though it is honestly going against everything I want and believe in, I know that.  I'm not too thrilled at the idea of you two sharing a bed but I'm not stupid.  I know that one day..."  He took a deep breath and he shook his head.  "But it's what you want and it's what he needs and so right now my opinions?  They don't matter so much."

"They always matter to me," Kurt said quietly.  "And nothing is happening, I promise you.  We're just sleeping, that's it."

"I know, kid," Burt smiled.  "I do trust you.  Both of you."

"So what you're saying is..."

"This is what he needs right now.  Your opinions?  Yeah, they matter.  But maybe not so much right now.  You just need to be there for him, give him options.  Because the only reason he ran was because he didn't think he had any."

Kurt bolted out of his seat, pausing to put a hand on his dad's shoulder, before running through to the living room.  Blaine was still on the phone and Kurt wanted to cry at his body language.  His shoulders were down, his head bowed and his voice quiet.

Grabbing the notepad and pen he quickly scribbled his message, coming around into Blaine's line of sight and holding it up.  Blaine read the short message and looked up, meeting and holding Kurt's gaze as he nodded gently.

"Dad?" Blaine said, his voice a little louder, a little clearer.  "I want you to come over to Kurt's.  We'll talk here...  No, I'm sure...  No, Dad.  Here.  I don't want neutral ground I want somewhere I...  Where I'm comfortable...  No, no that's not home.  Not right now."

Kurt reached out with his free hand and grabbed Blaine's, holding tight and not letting go until Blaine had his father's agreement and the call was ended.  Then they dropped hands so they could wrap their arms around the other.

Blaine's option was, and always would be, Kurt.

"Is this OK?" Blaine asked, holding his arms outstretched so Kurt could judge his outfit.  He smiled nervously at Kurt's own nervous smile and smoothed down the already perfect shirt.  "How long...?"

Kurt glanced at the clock.  Twenty minutes late and counting.

"He's not coming," Blaine muttered.

"He'll be here.  He said he'd come."

"Yeah, but...  Here?  He's not going to want to...  Oh god..."

Blaine dropped onto the end of the bed and glanced at his clasped hands.  Kurt shuffled over so he could wrap himself around his boyfriend as best he could.

"Hey," Kurt breathed gently, kissing Blaine's temple.  "You're trying.  That's all you can do."

"What if it's not enough?  What if I lose...  What if I...  Oh god," Blaine panted, his breath coming in short fits.

Kurt had never seen a panic attack before but he was pretty sure this was one.  He jumped off the bed, looking for something for Blaine to breathe into.  He found a paper shopping bag and offered it to the boy who was struggling to take in more than half a lungful of oxygen.

"Just... keep breathing," he said, squatting down in front of him and resting his hands on Blaine's kneecaps.  "I know it's hard but you can do this.  Just in and out.  Been doing it for seventeen years," he quipped, a gentle smile lighting up his eyes.

Blaine's shone in response as he clutched the bag to his face, the paper crunching in and out as he fought to get his breathing under control.  As he finally got to the point where he could lower the bag they heard the doorbell chime and Kurt's fingers gripped into Blaine's legs, worried that he was about to panic again.

"I can't..." Blaine stammered.  "Not yet..."

"It's fine, it's fine.  Wait here."

Kurt left him for a moment, racing downstairs to explain the situation to his dad, before coming back up.

"I told Dad you needed a moment," Kurt said, pushing his bedroom door to but not shut. "He's going to get your dad a drink, make small talk, and they'll be ready when you are."

"Our dads making small talk?" Blaine quipped.  "I'd pay to see that."

"Dad manages to talk sport with Finn and fashion with me.  He's gotten very good at multi-tasking conversational topics.  He can deal with any situation that's presented to him I'm sure of it."

"So that's where you get it from," Blaine smiled, running a hand down Kurt's face.  "I couldn't do this without you."

"You don't have to," Kurt said, his tone heavy.  "I mean it.  There is nothing you have to face without me."

"So I'm not holding you back?" Blaine asked suddenly.  "I don't want you to stop following your dreams."

"...What?" Kurt asked.

"It's what...  It's what Dad said to me.  That night.  You're amazing, Kurt.  You're beyond brilliant.  When you get up on that stage everyone sees you and when you sing?  We both know the effect that can have on people."  Spurred on by Kurt's smile he continued.  "You've got one year left and then you're off to set New York alight.  And you're going to be brilliant and I'm going to be here.  I'm stuck here for one more year.  Without you.

"And I'm not going to hold you back.  I don't want you to..."

"What did he say?" Kurt asked, his voice low and wary.

"That I'd be unfairly tying myself to you.  That college is where you discover yourself, when you get out there, when you find out who you are and you... meet people.  Who are like you."  Taking a deep breath Blaine forced himself to look into Kurt's eyes.  "He got it right though.  I don't want to hold you back.  Weekends in college should be about going out, not staying in to Skype someone who's ten hours' drive away.  Five hundred and ninety two miles.  I know.  I looked it up.

"And you should be..."

Kurt pushed up to silence him with a kiss.  "You shut up and you listen to me," he whispered against his lips.  "According to everyone, I should be with someone I love.  I should be with someone who makes me feel I can do anything and everything.  I should be with someone who puts me first, even when he shouldn't.  I should be with someone who's... who's brave and as open as I am," he said, remembering his dad's words.  "And that's you, Blaine Anderson.  That has always been you.  I already know who I am and I already know what I want. Yeah, I'll meet people but they are not going to be...  Just, no, OK?  And as for holding me back...  Do you honestly think that I'd do stuff like this on my own?"

"You're brilliant, Kurt, you could..."

"Can I ask you something?  You remember that boy who stopped you on the steps at Dalton?"

Blaine gave a soft laugh and nodded.

"Remember the kid you invited back for coffee?  The one who opened his heart to you about bullies and how his life was hell?  Who called you because...  Is he here now?  In this room?"

"What?" Blaine asked in confusion.

"That boy from last November.  The one who you met.  Is he here now?  Or has he changed?"

"We all change, Kurt.  That was a long time ago."

"Yeah, it was.  And so much has changed.  I've changed.  Because of you.  The idea of going off to New York was just an idea a year ago.  It was an escape, Blaine.  A way to get out of here and away from everything.  Going to Julliard was... a dream.

"But now?  Now it's a plan.  It's a start.  I'm going there and I'm going to start making a life for us.  One year and then you're joining me.  We'll have some crappy tiny apartment and after about two months the novelty will have worn off and we'll probably end up fighting, like properly fighting about towels left on the floor and bills and how we have no personal space anymore.  But we'll always make up and we'll be fine.  I just know we will be.

"And I'll be up on that stage and you'll finally listen to me and realise that you were born to teach," he laughed, "and we'll move out of that shoebox into a proper apartment and..."

This time it was Blaine doing the silencing and for a moment the two of them kissed lazily, forgetting who was downstairs.

"Your dad doesn't know us," Kurt whispered, "and he certainly doesn't know me.  I might be going without you but I'm never, never leaving you behind."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

Blaine sighed gently, his breath warm against Kurt's face.  "Guess I'd better go downstairs."

"You ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

In an unspoken question he took Kurt's hand in his, lacing their fingers together.  Kurt gave it a gentle squeeze and stood with him, falling into step just behind.

"Nice place," Mr Anderson said, his fingers playing with the rim of his untouched (instant) coffee mug.  "Four bed?"

"I'm sorry?"

"You and your wife have two boys, right?"

"Yeah."

"So I assume my son is in your spare room?  There's no way you'd condone..."

"Condone what?" Burt asked, his voice still clipped.

"Surely you feel it's... inappropriate for two boys to..."  Mr Anderson waved a hand in a suggestive manner but Burt failed to rise to the bait.  "Unless you actually approve?"

"Of what?" he asked.  "Of our boys being in love?"

"It's most likely a phase..."

"Can I say something?" Burt asked.  "When Kurt told me he was gay the first thing I asked him was if he was sure.  It wasn't that I wanted him to be straight but I was... worried.  Ohio isn't exactly open to... alternative lifestyles and I knew that as soon as Kurt came out he'd be opening himself to all kinds of hell.  What father wouldn't want to avoid that if possible?

"But Kurt's gay and he's who he is and I can't change that.  I wouldn't want to.  As parents it's our job to raise our kids and let them be who they are.  It's not up to us to dictate who they are.

"And for what it's worth?  Blaine is a good kid.  A great kid.  You should be proud of him."

"Proud?  Proud of what?" Mr Anderson snapped.  "He is throwing away so many options for that boy.  I'm not saying Kurt is a bad kid or anything, he's just not right for Blaine."

"Surely that's Blaine's decision to make?"

"Blaine could have the world at his feet.  He could have his pick of Ivy League schools, the right business course could see him well on his way to an executive position before he turns thirty.  The lifestyle he could have?  He wouldn't want for anything.  That's what I want for my son.  Surely that's what any parent would want for their child.  To be safe?  Secure?"

"Yeah, I want all that for Kurt," Burt agreed.  "I want him to do better than I did."

"Same as any parent," Mr Anderson smiled in agreement.

"Yeah.  I met his mother when I was twenty two.  I adored that woman like nothing else. Kurt beat me by five years."

"You're not suggesting that they...?"

"I don't need to suggest anything," Burt said.  "You just need to look at them to see how in love they are.  Carole and I know that as soon as they get to New York?  Be a matter of time before we get invitations."

Mr Anderson couldn't hide his physical recoil at the idea of that.

"Been a long time since it was deemed acceptable for parents to dictate who their kids should marry," Burt pointed out.  "Look, I know how hard it can be..."

"How hard what can be?"

"Dealing with a gay son."

"I'm not stuck in the 1800s," Mr Anderson said in a clipped tone.  "I'm not about to pack him off to one of those camps who claim they can 'cure' him."

"So what?  You just want him to stay in the closet?"

"You said yourself that you were worried about the hell that Kurt would get when he came out.  Why can't I be worried about that for Blaine?  I don't want to have another phonecall telling me my son's in the Emergency Room again.  Why can't I be worried?"

"Because you're not worried about him being gay.  You're worried about the image he's presenting.  Kurt said that you had a go at Blaine for being 'out there'?"

"You have no idea what my wife and I went through.  I'm not saying Kurt's had it easy, I know he hasn't, but unless I'm missing something you haven't spent nights in the hospital wondering if you're about to lose your son."

"There are different ways of losing someone," Burt said quietly.  "There were times when...  Look, Blaine's had it rough, I know that, but you're making it worse for him."

"How I deal with my son is, to be blunt, none of your business."

"It is when he does a runner and scares the hell out of my kid," Burt said sharply.  "It is when he turns up at my shop with a note he wants me to give Kurt because he's got it into his head that he shouldn't be with him anymore.  It becomes my business when the only time Blaine seems to come out of his shell when he's with Kurt.

"So you tell me how it's none of my business?  Blaine and Kurt are so wrapped up in each other that they are each other's business.  What happens to one affects the other."

"And you think that's healthy in seventeen year olds?" Mr Anderson asked.

"I think it's pretty natural in two people who are deeply in love.  The kind of love that leads to marriage.  They just got lucky in that they found each other so early in life, and in Ohioof all places."

"Well that's where we differ," Mr Anderson said.  "Because my boy is still a kid and I will not have him waste the final years of his High School education pining over someone.  Kurt is a distraction, nothing more.  Blaine needs to knuckle down, focus on school, go to college..."

"And be miserable?"

"He'll get over it.  They always do.  This is teenage infatuation, nothing more.  I will not let my son get distracted, I will not allow him to waste his time and effort and energy and focus on someone who steps out of the house looking like he should be turning tricks in cages in some desperate attempt to get people to notice him."

"Get out of my house," Burt growled.

"What?"

"That's my son you just insulted in about five different ways.  Get out of my house."

"I thought you supported the idea of Blaine and I talking things through."

"Yeah, not so much anymore as it seems.  Get out of my house.  Now."

As soon as they heard Burt's growled instruction the two of them scrambled up the stairs so they were out of sight.  When they'd come down they'd heard Burt talking about what it had been like for him when Kurt came out.  So they'd sat down on the step, arms wrapped around each other, and listened as he seemed to be setting the groundwork.

At the first it had seemed to go well, Kurt mouthing that his dad was good, that he would be able to make Mr Anderson see sense.  For the first time in days Blaine began to actually believe that his father could be won around, that he would see that trying to dictate not only his son's life but his heart too wasn't going to work.

Then the conversation had turned and Kurt had felt Blaine's whole body tense as his father tore into Blaine's sexuality, his choices and his decisions.  The last shred of hope that he could be accepted was gone.  Kurt's tight grip on his arm was the only thing offsetting the pain; anger and hurt, boiling through his veins.  He grounded himself in that touch, reminding himself that no matter what he thought this boy next to him loved him.  He was loved and he was wanted and he was accepted here.  Without question or hesitation he'd been taken in, he'd been kept warm and safe and cared for.  No one had pushed him, no one had laid down any rules or expectations for how he should be living his life.  He had been allowed to be himself and he was loved for that.

And not just by Kurt.

When she felt she could get away with it, Carole had slipped her arm around him in small hugs.  Burt had stuck up conversations about football teams.  (One night he'd even ordered Blaine's favourite pizza.  He'd claimed he ordered it too, that it was nothing special, but Kurt's face when he saw all the meat on it betrayed the truth.)  Finn challenged him to computer games and Kurt was just Kurt.  He held him at night, talked with and listened to him.  Held his hand and rested his head on his shoulder.

And, in the biggest show of love he'd ever seen, made no comment about his limited wardrobe choices.  Finn had offered to lend him a few things but after a comical attempt at trying on some jeans he'd decided to stick with what little he'd been able to pack that night.

In short, Blaine felt more loved and accepted and welcome in the home of someone he'd known for less than a year than he did in the home he shared with his parents.

As soon as they heard Mr Anderson start to insult Kurt the pair of them were boiling in anger and it was all they could do not to run out there and have their own say.  So Kurt grabbed Blaine and dragged him back up to their room, leaving it to Burt to show their unwelcome guest out.  When the bedroom door was shut behind them Blaine's anger seemed to dissipate, turning into the despondent sadness that had surrounded him when Kurt had seen him at his father's shop.

"I'm so sorry, sweetie," Kurt said as Blaine crawled into bed, curling up on top of the covers.  "I had no idea..."  His own anger calmed in sympathy and he wished he could make it all better, make it all go away.  But for now he knew that all he could do was be there for him and so he climbed up onto the bed next to him.

"That was pretty tame for him actually," Blaine mumbled into the pillow.

"Oh god..."

Kurt spooned in behind him, his arm wrapping securely around Blaine's waist.  He found Blaine's hand, their fingers locking tightly together.  They'd slept like this the first few nights, when Blaine needed that constant reassurances that Kurt was there, with him, that he was loved and wanted.  Kurt pressed a soft kiss on the back of Blaine's neck and nuzzled in, just staying close.

When Blaine woke up he turned in Kurt's arms, smiling when those light eyes met his dark ones.

"You OK?" Kurt whispered.

"You're here, of course I am."

"I'm always going to be here," he said gently, pressing his lips gently to Blaine's.

It was meant as a reassuring gesture but Blaine wouldn't let him go.  He pushed in harder, deeper, faster, turning him over and pressing into the mattress.

For a second Kurt wondered if this was in response to what had happened earlier but as the kisses moved from passion to love he knew it wasn't the case.  Tonight their love had been questioned and defended, before they'd gone downstairs Kurt had promised Blaine a future and that was to be celebrated.

Blaine's hands pushed at Kurt's waistcoat, making quick work of the buttons before turning his attention to the shirt.

Within minutes they were shirtless and Kurt turned them so he was straddling Blaine's hips.

"You sure?" he whispered.

"You?"

"I don't want you to feel like you have to prove anything to me," Kurt said, his fingers idly tracing patterns on his boyfriend's abdomen.  "Just because..."

"Hey," Blaine said, moving his hands to Kurt's and pressing them together, palm to palm.  "I love you.  This is... what happens when you're in love.  If you want it?"

Kurt leant over and kissed Blaine while rolling his hips down experimentally.

And their world imploded.

The pressure of their growing erections within their pants was nothing new but that added friction, of knowing what was coming next?  It seemed to overload their minds and so they relied on instinct.

Blaine's hands ran down the bare skin of Kurt's back to the curve of his ass, rubbing the soft denim before pulling him down harder.  And again.  And again.

Whenever they'd allowed their thoughts to wander in this direction it had always played out so differently.  They'd be almost reverent in their reveal of the other's body.  Prior to this the early weeks of summer had been hands roaming under fabrics, fingers curling around erections and stroking until release.  They'd been limited in where they could be together in private until now.

Now they had Kurt's room (which was beginning to be referred to as their room) and the door was shut and they both had half a thought that it shouldn't be like this.  But they were composed enough to shuck off their pants and then in pure lust they just rutted against each other until they came in their underwear, groaning and gasping into skin as they managed to keep the presence of mind to be quiet as they possibly could.

Coming down from their high they remained close; kissing and touching and as much body contact as possible until the heat had dissipated from their skin and they were forced to get up.  Kurt tried to fight off the growing embarrassment and allowed Blaine to be the one to clean him up, returning the favour before lending him a pair of boxer shorts to change into.  He hid their soiled underwear under other washing; he'd been doing his own for ages and he'd co-opted Blaine's limited wardrobe into this.

He caught sight of Blaine in the vanity mirror as he came up behind him, his arms sliding easily over the pale skin of his hips.  Kurt saw Blaine's head dip and felt his mouth, open and warm on his shoulder blade.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"For what?" Kurt asked, running his fingertips over Blaine's arms.

"Everything.  I love you."

"I love you too.  So much, Blaine."

"I'm beginning to realise that," he laughed softly.

Kurt turned in his boyfriend's arms so he could look at him properly.  "And you need to remember that, OK?  No matter what.  I love you."

"I'll try," Blaine whispered sadly.

"Good.  Because I'd stay.  For you.  I'd stay here for another year, work or do theatre or something.  I'd defer college for you and for no other reason than I don't want you ever thinking I'm leaving you behind.  I don't want to be away from you either; missing you that weekend showed me that I don't seem to cope well without you.

"And I don't want you to feel guilty about that or think that you're holding me back.  This is just me... letting you know... exactly how much you mean to me.  How much I love you and what I'd do for you."

"It's just... new to me, that's all."

And that broke Kurt's heart more than anything else.  He'd known and understood what unconditional love meant before he met Blaine.  His father had made it obvious and clear just how much he loved his son and what he'd do for him.  Even Carole was showing that she regarded Kurt her son just as much as Finn.  The idea that Blaine didn't know that, that Kurt was his first example of unconditional love?  Broke Kurt's heart and made him love Blaine a little bit more.

"And that..." Blaine said, gesturing towards the bed, "it wasn't because of Dad, OK?  I promise.  I mean... it may have been a catalyst but..."

"I know," Kurt smiled, kissing the tip of Blaine's nose gently.  "I'm really proud of you. The way you're handling this?"

Blaine's lip quivered and Kurt wondered when someone had told him they were proud of him.  So he kissed him gently and resolved to spend the rest of his life making it absolutely clear just how much Blaine meant to him.