By the time Kurt woke up on Saturday morning, tangled around Blaine, he had put the incident with the clothes behind him. It had been a pretty rough day for Blaine; Kurt figured he had just forgotten or he was distracted. Kurt decided he wouldn't mention it.

The weekend passed easily, and the more time they spent together, the more Blaine seemed to get back to himself. He held actual conversations with Burt and Carole at the dinner table Saturday night, and he even chatted with Joe for a couple minutes while he was hanging out with Kurt at the shop on Sunday.

Kurt hoped that time spent away from Blaine's dad was helping him, and it only encouraged him to keep Blaine at his house more often.

Blaine stayed over Sunday night as well, and Monday followed in the same pattern. Kurt picked out Blaine's outfit for the day, the school day passed easily, and Blaine seemed to be a little more comfortable in his skin than he had been on Friday.

But the peace couldn't last forever. Sooner or later, Blaine needed to at least stop by his own house. So on Monday afternoon, Kurt dropped Blaine off after Glee practice. 

"Come over for dinner," Kurt said. "Be at my house at 6:30, OK?"

"Yes, Kurt," Blaine replied, leaning across the car to accept Kurt's kiss.

Kurt tried not to worry as he watched Blaine walk into the Anderson house, and he tried to reassure himself that at least the black BMW wasn't in the driveway. 

--

Blaine thought it was a little strange that he was beginning to feel uncomfortable in his own home. It just felt so big and empty when his parents were gone, which was most of the time, and it was so different from the lively Hudmel home. Even though Burt and Carole were gone even more than Blaine’s own parents, the house always felt warm and lived in, and it never felt empty with Finn and the guys around.

Blaine walked up to his bedroom, and he felt a twist in his chest as he ached for Kurt's room back at the Hudmel house. That’s where Blaine felt at home now, where he felt comfortable and safe. 

Blaine dropped his bag on the bed, pulled some more clothes out of his closet and carefully folded them before he tucked them into his bag. He didn't have quite enough over at Kurt's, and he was spending more and more time over there lately. 

There was a loud band and Blaine tensed when he heard the front door open and close. It was only 4:30, it must be his mother.

"Blaine!"

Blaine's whole body went stiff at the sound of his father's voice. How did he even know Blaine was home? He hadn't been there in days. Blaine quickly gathered his bag and his car keys, moving out of his room and down the stairs. He found his father in the foyer with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Good, you're actually here for once." John Anderson narrowed his eyes at Blaine. "Look, I have an important client coming over for dinner tonight, and I expect you to be home for dinner."

"I can't," Blaine started, shaking his head.

"You can and you will," John snapped, pointing his finger at Blaine. "And you're going to at least pretend you're an Anderson tonight, Blaine. The client is bringing his daughter and I promised him you’d be here so she would have someone her own age.” 

The thought of missing dinner with Kurt to spend an evening making small talk with some girl make Blaine’s stomach twist, because he knew it would make Kurt unhappy.  

“And I don't want to hear one word about that fag or your little infatuation with him, OK? You can go back to fucking him tomorrow, or whatever you've been doing all weekend. I don't really care. But tonight, you do what I say."

Blaine felt the familiar rage burn in his chest and his eyes started to sting. Before his father could say another word he was out the door and hurrying for his car. 

He wouldn't. He couldn't sit there and pretend his didn't have a boyfriend who cared about him.  He couldn't disobey his boyfriend by failing to show up for dinner. Tears started to fall, and Blaine wiped at his face as he drove, trying to keep his vision clear. Kurt was always telling him to be careful when he drove, he couldn't screw up now. 

Kurt, Blaine had to get to Kurt. Blaine hoped his boyfriend wouldn't be upset, he had asked Blaine to be there at 6:30 and now he was going to be over an hour early. Blaine was never early or late - he was always there exactly when Kurt told him.

Blaine finally pulled into the Hudmel driveway, and his stomach dropped when he realized Kurt's car wasn't there. Without knowing where Kurt was, he climbed out of his car and hurried up to the front door. Blaine knocked on the door, loud and insistent, nearly stumbling forward with relief when Finn opened the door.

"Blaine," Finn started to greet him before he noticed Blaine’s clenched fists and tear streaked face. "Blaine! Dude, are you OK?"

"No," Blaine snapped, pushing past Finn and climbing the stairs for Kurt's room. He only felt a little better when he had closed the door behind him, so he dropped his bag and kicked off his shoes, climbing under the covers of Kurt's bed.

He squeezed his eyes shut, but it did nothing to stop the tears.

--

It wasn't very long before Blaine heard quick footsteps on the stairs and Kurt was bursting into the room.

"Blaine," Kurt said, hurrying to Blaine's side. He pulled the covers back and pulled Blaine around to face him. "Baby, what's wrong?"

Kurt's eyes were wide with worry and fear, and Blaine let out a choked cry, pulling himself up so he could collapse into Kurt's chest.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," Blaine said, voice muffled against Kurt’s chest. "I couldn't be there, I had to get away, I had to be here. I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry, Blaine?" Kurt sounded very confused.

"You-you said to be here at 6:30," Blaine said. "I'm way too early, I'm sorry."

Blaine hated that he hadn't been able to do exactly what Kurt asked; he felt terrible and he wanted to make it up to Kurt somehow. It reminded Blaine of when he was a child, when he would get in trouble and expected to be punished for it. But he didn’t want Kurt to punish him. 

Did he?

"It's OK, Blaine," Kurt said, kissing Blaine's cheek and holding him close. "You're always welcome here, and I'm not upset that you're early. I would much rather you be early than late, anyway."

"Being early is OK?" Blaine asked, sniffling a little.

"Yes, being early is OK," Kurt said.

"Thank you," Blaine said, sighing a little. 

He felt better knowing that he wasn't in trouble, but he still had that strange feeling at the back of his mind, as if something was missing. Blaine was starting to feel as if there was a void inside him that wasn’t being filled, but he didn’t know what he needed to make him whole. Blaine closed his eyes and imagined how he would have felt if Kurt had reacted differently, if Kurt had reprimanded him in some way. 

The idea startled Blaine, and he had no idea why he found it so appealing.

--

Kurt held Blaine until he fell asleep, and only when Blaine’s breathing was even and steady did he carefully pull himself free. He pulled the blankets up to cover Blaine and pressed a kiss to his brow before he quietly slipped from the room.

“Is he OK?”

Kurt was startled to see his brother, standing awkwardly in the middle of the hallway. He looked confused and concerned, and Kurt felt a flash of love for the big oaf.

“His dad is a dick, but I think he’ll be OK,” Kurt said quietly, moving down the hall and down the stairs. “I think he’s going to be staying here a little more often.”

“What will Burt think of that?” Finn asked, frowning.

Kurt hesitated. “Dad doesn’t need to know,” he said. “He and Carole are gone so much, hopefully they won’t notice.”

“You really think you can keep a secret like that?” Finn asked.

“I can try,” Kurt said. “Can you?”

“I’ll try,” Finn replied, dropping a heavy hand on Kurt’s shoulder. “For you.”

--

Blaine had been trying to avoid his dad all week, and so far he'd been pretty good at it. Blaine hadn't seen him since Monday; any time he had to go home, he made sure to time it so his dad wouldn't be around.

The more he avoided his own house, the more he was becoming dependent on Kurt. Blaine could see it happening, and he was worried about it, because Kurt would be gone by next fall. In less than a year Kurt would be headed for New York and Blaine would still be stuck in Ohio.

Blaine wasn't sure exactly what was expected of him. He tried so hard to do what Kurt told him to, but he wondered if Kurt really even cared whether or not he obeyed. Kurt told Blaine when he was good, but Blaine wanted clear expectations so he could truly feel he was being good. Kurt didn’t seem invested enough to set those expectations. 

Blaine hadn't forgotten about tossing his clothes on the chair on Friday night, but apparently Kurt had. And Kurt didn't seem to notice when Blaine didn't completely clear his plate at lunch and he didn't comment when Blaine didn't rinse his plate before putting his dishes in the dishwasher.

Blaine didn't know what he was expecting out of Kurt, didn't know what he was hoping Kurt would do. But Blaine kept pushing; he just hoped that Kurt would push back.

--

On Thursday night, Kurt and Blaine had the house to themselves for the evening and Blaine was preparing supper for them both. He was excited to cook for Kurt - it was one of his favorite things to do.

Kurt usually liked to sit at the bar and chat while Blaine cooked, and tonight was no exception. Except that Kurt had grabbed his laptop and put it on the bar where he sat.

"I'm going to work on my applications while you cook, OK babe?"

Blaine felt a familiar sharp pain in his gut and he had to force himself to smile. "Yes, Kurt."

Blaine tried to distract himself by measuring out the seasoning mix for the chicken.

"I'm pretty sure Parson's is my first choice," Kurt said, frowning with concentration as he clicked through webpages of college apps. "But their application process is intense, I'm not sure if I'll get in."

"I'm sure you will," Blaine said quietly, eyes on the food he was preparing. 

"Well, whichever school I end up attending, I'll definitely be living in a dorm. Sharing a room with a stranger sounds terrible, but I know I can't afford to live in an apartment the first year. Maybe sophomore year, if I get a job. It'll be great to have my own place, or at least my own room."

Blaine thought about what it must be like for Kurt to have to share his room with Blaine. For the first time, Blaine worried he was being a hassle for Kurt, staying over as often as he did. What if he was in the way and Kurt was just too nice to say it? Didn't Kurt want his own space?

"New York is amazing," Kurt gushed. "I really was born to live there; it's going to be awesome!"

Yeah, awesome. Blaine was quiet as he finished preparing the food, pan searing the chicken for a minute before he put it in the oven. He didn't say anything as he prepared the vegetables, just listened to Kurt continue to ramble on.

"I already have a decent portfolio," Kurt was saying. "I've got one really killer jacket I want to finish first, though. It's going to be the crowning piece of my application packet. Come here, I want to show you the sketch."

Blaine didn't respond, he just pulled the chicken out of the oven, pretending he hadn't heard.

"Blaine," Kurt repeated. "Come over here."

Blaine frowned and moved the vegetables off the heat before he turned and walked over to Kurt's side. Kurt was looking at him with confusion, but he smiled as Blaine approached and hooked an arm around his waist. Blaine sunk into his embrace automatically.

"What do you think?" Kurt asked, pointing at the scanned sketch of a very elaborate jacket on the computer screen.

"It's amazing," Blaine said, honestly.

Kurt's work was stunning, there was no doubt that he would get into all three schools. He would have his pick of where he wanted to go and he would definitely be leaving Blaine behind.

"Thanks, babe." Kurt grinned, kissing Blaine on the cheek.

"Dinner is ready," Blaine deflected, pulling away from Kurt to start plating.

"Smells greats," Kurt said, shutting his laptop and moving to set the table.

Normally Blaine would insist on setting the table, but that night he didn't really feel like it. So he just bit his lip and let Kurt do it before he brought over their dinner, putting Kurt's down in front of him before setting down his own. When he sat down and looked at his meal, he suddenly didn't feel hungry. Blaine frowned and poked at his vegetables with his fork.

"Eat your dinner, babe."

Blaine looked over at Kurt, noticing the concern in his boyfriend's eyes. The direct order had been clear in Kurt's voice.

"I'm not hungry," Blaine replied, blinking in surprise at his own response. It was true - his stomach was in so many knots he didn't think he could eat. But since when did that stop him from doing as he was told?

--

Kurt was rather taken aback, and he stared at Blaine for a moment. He could see that something was bothering Blaine, but Kurt wasn't sure what it was. Blaine had never refused something Kurt said before.

"What's wrong?" Kurt asked, reaching out to take Blaine's hand.

"Nothing," Blaine said with a frown, stabbing a piece of broccoli, but not eating it.

Kurt blinked at Blaine. He thought they had a pretty clear agreement that Blaine was not to deflect like this.

Kurt was suddenly unsure of what he should do. Maybe Blaine didn't need his guidance anymore; maybe this was Blaine's way of pulling away from Kurt's control. The last thing Kurt wanted was to force it on Blaine if it wasn't what he wanted.

"Please eat, Blaine?" Kurt said, cautiously forming the request.

Blaine just frowned and took a bite of his broccoli.

Blaine's chicken sat untouched. 

--

Kurt was confused.

His entire relationship with Blaine had always revolved around his own need to take care of Blaine and his boyfriend's apparent need to relinquish control to Kurt. In the first weeks they had been together, Blaine had been incredibly careful to do exactly what Kurt asked, and Kurt in turn had been very mindful not to abuse that. He tried very hard to keep their relationship balanced, not to simply mold their relationship to his own whims.

But something had changed. Blaine was ignoring little orders, or not entirely obeying other ones. Kurt would ask Blaine to put away his laundry and Blaine wouldn't put as much attention into folding correctly as he used to. Kurt would tell Blaine to take a seat when they got to Glee and Blaine would take a detour to talk to Santana for a minute before he did as he was told.

Kurt didn't understand any of it, wasn't sure if he should call Blaine out for it or not. Since this thing between them had been mostly unspoken, he had no basis from which to judge how he should react. Especially since they were all such little things, Blaine was careful to never completely defy him.

It had been over a week since Blaine's big blow up with his dad, the night Blaine had shown up early, and Blaine was spending most of his time at Kurt's house. It was late Sunday morning and Blaine hadn't been to the Anderson home in days.

"Kurt?"

"Yeah, baby?"

The two of them were lounging on the couch in the TV room, not watching anything, just enjoying each other's company. They had just gotten home from the shop, Blaine having spent the afternoon watching Kurt work, just like he did every weekend.

"I don't think I have enough clothes here," Blaine said, looking up at Kurt. "Is it OK if I go home and pack up a few things?"

Kurt frowned. "Will your dad be there?"

Blaine shook his head. "My parents are always at the country club on weekends."

"OK. Do you need me to go with you?"

Blaine shook his head again. "You've been working all day, I'll be fine. Besides, I haven't driven my car in a while - it'll be good for both of us, me and the car."

It was true, Kurt drove Blaine everywhere these days, and it would be good for the car to not sit idle for weeks at a time. And Blaine would be OK - he wouldn't be gone long.

"You had me at responsible car maintenance," Kurt said, teasing gently. 

Blaine laughed and pulled himself up from the couch. "May I go now? I want to be back in time to help you with lunch."

"Sure, baby," Kurt said, sitting up and giving Blaine a chaste kiss. "I want you back by noon, and call me if your dad is there or anything else happens, OK?"

"Yes, Kurt," Blaine agreed easily, accepting another kiss before he got up to leave.

Kurt tried not to count the minutes until his return.

--

Blaine pulled up to his parent's house and the first thing he noticed was his father's black BMW in the driveway. His hand reached automatically for his phone, ready to call Kurt just as he'd been instructed, but he realized he didn't know for sure his father was actually there. They probably took his mother's car to the country club.

Blaine grabbed his phone and slipped it into this pocket as he climbed out of his car and headed up the front walk. The house seemed quiet as he walked through the front door, and Blaine made his way quickly upstairs. In his room, he pulled out a duffle bag and started to fill it with clothes. He'd rather keep the most of his wardrobe at Kurt's house; he was nearly living there now, anyway. 

It didn't take long for Blaine to finish, and he hurried back down, eager to head back to Kurt's house. He still had plenty of time to be back by noon.

"Where have you been?"

Blaine froze at the front door, his hand stilled where it was reaching out for the door knob. He turned towards the sitting room and saw his father nursing a tumbler of scotch. Blaine said nothing.

"You really are living with this guy, aren't you?" John demanded, and he seemed a little drunk. He narrowed his eyes at Blaine. "Have you let him fuck you yet?"

"What?" Blaine was so shocked by the question that he didn't know how to react.

"You haven't, have you? Well that's all he wants you know," John said, cruel malice dripping from his voice. "He'll fuck your ass and kick you out on it. And then where will you be?"

"No," Blaine whispered. 

“You know, I lost that client last week,” John said, stepping closer. “You’re useless to me, Blaine. You’re not going to pass on the Anderson name and I can’t bring you into the firm.” John’s face was twisted with anger. “I’d be a laughing stock if everyone knew I have fag whore for a son.” 

"I'm not a whore," Blaine snapped, voice quivering with barely contained anger.

"You're letting a boy fuck you in exchange for protection and place to live," John said with a laugh. "Sounds like a whore to me."

Blaine felt the tears well in his eyes but he tried to keep them at bay as his father moved even further into Blaine’s personal space.

John stopped in front of Blaine and looked down at him with a disgusted leer. "You’re no longer my son. I don’t want you in my house."

John turned and stumbled towards the kitchen and Blaine finally let the tears fall, silently tracking down his face. He wrenched the front door open and hurried to his car, throwing his bag in the back seat. He pulled his phone from his pocket, hand compulsively itching to call Kurt. Itching to do as Kurt had asked.

But he couldn't. His mind was a mess and he needed to clear it. He needed to be able to think straight before he went back to Kurt. And he would go back to Kurt; he would always go back to Kurt. Just not yet.

Blaine dropped his phone on the passenger seat and put his car in reverse, pulling away from his father's house. He wasn't headed for Lima. Not yet.