Kurt ushers Blaine inside, past a shell-shocked Finn who gapes silently after them.

"Dude, what's wrong?" asks Finn.

"Nothing," Kurt calls back over his shoulder

"What? No way, man. He looks like he's about to have a breakdown."

"Mind your own business, Finn," Kurt bites back.

 "Alright, alright," says Finn, raising his hands defensively. "I just hope you realise that when Dad gets out of the shower, he'll be asking a lot more questions than I do."

"Yeah, yeah," says Kurt dismissively. He guides Blaine down the hall and past the kitchen to what must be his room. As Blaine, on Kurt's invitation, takes a seat on the edge of Kurt's bed, he takes in the room around him. The walls are painted pure white, and in a corner is a row of shelves, each holding books organised by category, on cooking, theatre, fashion, and school subjects. Beside the shelves is a chest of drawers, atop of which are a cluster of memories. There's a framed photo of a young Kurt, sitting in the lap of a mousey-haired woman who must be his mum, the two of them smiling the same, wide grin. Another frame contains a photo of Mercedes and Kurt, making overly-exaggerated duck-faces at the camera. As Kurt closes the bedroom door, Blaine takes in the rest of the photos, smiling weakly to himself until his gaze lands on the last one. It's of Kurt and Harry in Christmas sweaters, Harry's arms wrapped around Kurt's waist from behind as he nuzzles in against Kurt's cheek. The photo had been taken in the Hummel's kitchen, on Christmas day by the looks of the turkey behind them on the counter. It's just sad, Blaine thinks, that in the kitchen where Kurt had force-fed him souffle when he had merely come out for the first time, Harry's already enjoying Hudson-Hummel family Christmas lunches. And Blaine knows it's selfish of him, but he hates that.

Kurt's about to speak when there's a knock at the door. With a sigh, he opens it to find a stern-looking Senator Hummel. Blaine stands up, digging his hands into his jeans and waiting nervously.

"Finn told me you had company. A little heads up would have been nice, you know," says Senator Hummel, glancing back at Blaine

"I'm sorry, I couldn't really foresee this," says Kurt, his frustration seeping into his voice.

"Don't be like that, Kurt," Senator Hummel warns quietly, before settling his gaze on Blaine. "Hi, Blaine, h- are you okay?"

Blaine wipes at his eyes with his palm, realising the tears that had begun to trickle down his face.

"We were just discussing it, dad," says Kurt pointedly. "If you don't mind giving us some privacy."

"Kurt, he's a bit of a mess, are you sure there isn't anything I can do?" asks Senator Hummel worriedly. "What happened, kid?"

Kurt isn't as sharp on his tongue to that, not when he has to think of a decent cover story, and it gives Blaine the opportunity to cut in.

"It's my dad," he says with a heavy sigh. "I told him I was gay but he couldn't quite see past his own agendas and accept it."

Senator Hummel simply stares at Blaine, straight-faced and emotionless. And then he's walking past Kurt and crossing towards Blaine, as Blaine braces himself for the worst, because given his father's reputation and how he's treated because of it, he really wouldn't be surprised if the Senator thinks he's pulling his leg. But Blaine is surprised, as Senator Hummel places a hand on his shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze.

"I'm sorry, kid," says Senator Hummel. "Truly, I am. You stay as long as you need, alright?"

Blaine nods, grateful.

"Thanks, Mr Hummel," he says.

Senator Hummel smiles comfortingly before turning to Kurt.

"I'm just gonna finish getting ready, kid," says Senator Hummel. "I'll be back in a minute."

He goes out into the hall, leaving Blaine and Kurt to share awkward glances and reassuring smiles.

"Kurt?" says Blaine quietly.

"Yes?" says Kurt, gentleness in his eyes as they meet Blaine's.

"I really hate to be a burden on you like this, but I really don't feel like going back home tonight."

"Oh," Kurt's taken aback, but he masks it in milliseconds. "Of course, Blaine. I'll tell you what, Finn's heading out tonight to see his girlfriend and Carole's already in Lima, and there's leftover cheesecake in the fridge. How about I go get it and we can talk and bury our feelings in creamy goodness? Maybe we could watch some reality TV afterwards. I've always found that remembering just how insane everyone else is, is a great way to feel better about your own life."

"I guess," says Blaine, and he tries to channel some of Kurt's enthusiasm, but he isn't quite there yet.

Senator Hummel returns, changed into a fresh dress shirt and slacks.

"You kids gonna be alright then?"  he asks as he buttons up his cuffs, looking worriedly over at Blaine.

"Yes, we'll be fine, Dad," says Kurt wearily. "Blaine's staying over the night, and I promise I'll be the perfect host and make sure he doesn't go hungry."

"Course you will," says Senator Hummel. He flattens his collar, looking from Kurt to Blaine and back again - there's something weighing on his mind. "Kurt? May I have a word?"

"What?" snaps Kurt, immediately on the defensive.

"I have a flight in an hour, Kurt, don't give me that," sighs Senator Hummel.

"If you're going to kick him out because he's gay and I might have sex with him - I think you're forgetting that I have a boyfriend," says Kurt, crossing his arms across his chest defiantly. Blaine definitely needs some time to get used to the openness of Senator Hummel and Kurt's conversations.

"Actually, I seem to be remembering you have a boyfriend a bit better than you do, because your phone's been buzzing nonstop on the kitchen counter. Seems pretty desperate to get in touch by the looks of things," says Senator Hummel.

Oh, crap," says Kurt, racing out of the room.

Senator Hummel smiles to himself, shaking his head.

"Kid's got too big a heart sometimes," says Senator Hummel. "What about you, though? You holding up okay?"

"Yeah, I'm alright," says Blaine. "Well, better now that Kurt's promised me cheesecake and reality TV show marathons."

"Oh man," says Senator Hummel, shaking his head. "He tried to get me to watch The Bachelorette with him once. Not exactly my thing."

Blaine grins at the mental image, wondering just how long Senator Hummel would have tried to please his son before deciding that watching a bunch of guys acting ridiculous for true love wasn't going to be one of the ways  that they could bond.

"Mr Hummel?" says Blaine.

"Yeah?" says Senator Hummel.

"You're not going to tell anyone, are you?" asks Blaine quietly. He knows it's probably a bit too late to ask that now, but he needs to know.

"Of course not!" says Senator Hummel, as if the notion is absolutely ridiculous.

"But you could, you know," says Blaine, and he doesn't know what possesses him to say it, because it's almost like he's urging the Senator to do it. A form of sabotage, perhaps, that would also take away Blaine's need to come out himself.

Senator Hummel surveys Blaine, eyes narrowed, before answering.

"Your personal life has nothing to do with politics, Blaine. Besides, this isn't something I'd want to use against your dad because it isn't anything against your dad. Because there's nothing wrong with having a gay son. No matter what his supporters think. And for me to turn around and try and imply that there is would go against everything I believe in. So don't worry, kid. Your secret's safe with me."

Blaine nods, feeling stupid for thinking this could be his easy way to publicly come out, yet also feeling relieved, and also accepted. It's something he can't yet feel in his own home, but maybe someday his father will come to look at him the way that Senator Hummel looks at Kurt.

Out in the kitchen, Kurt unlocks his phone to find 3 missed calls and half a dozen text messages, all from Harry. He starts to worry that something's seriously wrong, before he reads the messages, his eyebrows becoming more and more in danger of disappearing into his hairline with every text. Finally, he calls Harry.

"Hey, Harry," says Kurt. "I'm sorry, I've been a bit preoccupied with stuff and I, uh, just got your texts. What's up?"

"Well, my parents are out of town tonight," says Harry slowly. "You can come over if you want to?"

Kurt frowns. If their waiting had simply been about having a house to themselves, they would have done this weeks ago.

"Harry, I can't," says Kurt gently. He glances up the hall to his room, hearing the murmur of Blaine and Senator Hummel's idle chatter, before retreating to the bathroom lest he be overheard.

"C'mon, Kurt," Harry coaxes, as Kurt takes a seat on the edge of the tub. "We can have a nice night in. Crack open a bottle of champagne, watch one of those rom-coms you're so fond of."

"And have sex," says Kurt blankly.

A beat. Then, "If that's what you want."

"No, that's not what I want," says Kurt, his voice coming out in a hushed whisper. "Harry, you know how I feel about this. Sex isn't something I take lightly."

"Kurt, we've been dating for nearly five months. Trust me, if anything happens, people aren't going to think you take sex lightly."

"I didn't realise there was a time limit for having sex," says Kurt coldly. Normally he wouldn't talk to Harry like this, but Kurt doesn't exactly appreciate his boyfriend implying that he's a prude. "I can't come over anyway because Blaine's over tonight."

"I didn't realise you two had gotten that close," says Harry darkly. "Kurt, you do remember who his father is, right? The guy who wants to see people like us never getting married."

"Yes, and I also know who Blaine is and he's my friend," says Kurt. "So if you have a problem with that -"

"Forget it," Harry cuts Kurt off, not sounding the least bit like he's going to forget it himself. "I hope you have a good night with Blaine. Don't give away too many of daddy's secrets."

"Can you for one moment stop judging him based on his family? God you are such an ass today," says Kurt. "Don't call me again until you're ready to grow up."

Kurt hangs up, his whole body shaking with rage. He can't believe Harry. Where had all of that even come from? Kurt had known from the very start that Harry got passionate about politics, but if he had known that Harry would go so far as to dictate who it's right for Kurt to spend time with...

Tears of anger and frustration prickle at Kurt's eyes, but he blinks them back. He can't let Blaine know that there's anything wrong. He's got to be there for Blaine. Because he can't imagine coming out and not having the kind of support that his father had given him....

The next morning, Blaine wakes up on the couch with Kurt's head resting on his shoulder, the pair of them having fallen asleep in front of the TV. They'd been up till around 2pm hate-watching Treme, after Blaine had vented his frustrations about his parents and Kurt had done his best to reassure him that everything was going to turn out okay despite Blaine's doubts on the matter. Kurt can do with some rest, Blaine reasons, as he decides it's best to let him sleep. It's why Blaine doesn't make to move Kurt off his shoulder. And yes, maybe there's the additional perk of being close enough to inhale the scent of Kurt's shampoo, a coconut blend from what Blaine can tell. And Kurt does look rather peaceful when he's asleep, with his lips curved up into a slight smile...

But the doorbell rings just minutes after Blaine wakes up, and Kurt jolts awake, rushing to answer it. When he returns, he's not alone.

"Blaine? Someone's hear to see you."

As Blaine twists around on the couch, he's first expecting his dad, before he realises that his father wouldn't bother. It is his mum, though, looking visibly relieved as her eyes settle on Blaine.

"Hey, Blaine," says Mrs Anderson in a shuddering exhale. "Will you let me take you home? Please?"

Blaine doesn't miss the hurt in her eyes. A lump forms in his throat. He had never wanted to put that there.

 "Of course," says Blaine, obedient as always. He stands and crosses to Kurt.

"Thanks for everything, Kurt," he says. "I'm sorry this was all so sudden."

"Don't," says Kurt. "You know I'm always here for you."

They hug. Blaine takes the time to savour the warmth of being in Kurt's arms, not knowing when he next will be, and hating that even more than he did that photo with Harry and the Christmas sweaters

"I'll call you tonight," Kurt promises. "It's going to be okay."

Blaine gives Kurt a weak smile before following his mother to the car. Wordlessly, he gets into the passenger seat as Mrs Anderson fumbles with the keys. Blaine sees it right away - the way his mother's eyes are shining with tears. She says nothing, though, and they ride in silence, until Blaine works up the courage to speak when they're stopped at a red light.

"Mum? Why are you crying?" he asks, his head turned to look at her, so he can repeat the words that he barely believes himself, "It's going to be okay."

"You don't know that," says Mrs Anderson, wiping at her eyes. "They put you in the hospital for being straight, Blaine. I don't want to see what they do to you for being gay."

"Mum," says Blaine softly. "They didn't beat me up because I was straight. They beat me up because they thought I was homophobic. There's a huge difference."

The lights turn green and Mrs Anderson doesn't immediately respond as she accelerates through the intersection. When they're forced to slow down due to congestion, she worries at her lip.

"I just - I know that there are a tonne of people who are going to hate this part of you, B," she says. "And I hate that. I hate that I can't protect you from it."

"I don't care, Mum," says Blaine insistently. "I'm sick of living a lie."

"I get that," says Mrs Anderson. "I just don't want you to get hurt."

Blaine sees just how hurt his mum is, just how much pain this is causing her, her lips wobbling as tears stream down her face. It's like a knife to Blaine's heart.

"If it makes you feel better, I'll stay closeted as far as the public eye is concerned until the election is over," says Blaine quietly.

"Could you?" says Mrs Anderson, her voice filled with hope. "Because I'm terrified. The things that they could do to you."

"Yes," says Blaine, despite how much he doesn't want to, "I promise, Mum."

Mrs Anderson shoots Blaine a grateful smile as they pull up into the garage. She turns off the ignition, but neither of them makes to leave the car.

"And this is another thing I can't protect you from," says Mrs Anderson sadly.

Blaine smiles wryly. He leaves the garage before his mum, finding his father alone at the breakfast table sipping a mug of coffee. To Blaine's surprise, Senator Anderson greets him cheerily. As if Blaine is coming back from a regular sleepover. As if it hadn't been a shouting match that had made him leave in the first place.

"Morning, son," says Senator Anderson, not taking his eyes off the paper he's reading. "I have a bunch of errands I need done, do you mind giving me a hand?"

What Mrs Anderson sees as a good sign only serves to anger Blaine.

"What?" Blaine challenges, eyebrows raised. "Are we just not going to talk about the fact that I'm gay, then?"

Senator Anderson sighs in frustration. He carefully folds up his paper and places it on the table in front of him. Clasping his hands together, he looks at Blaine.

"Blaine, I've been a part of this party since I was born," Senator Anderson says, as if explaining something simplistic to a young child. "The party values - they're who I am. They're blood."

"So they're blood more than your own son, are they?" Blaine spits back. "Because I've been gay ever since I was born, you know."

"Things can change," says Senator Anderson curtly.

Blaine's jaw drops open. He can't be serious.

"Are you kidding me?" Blaine yells. "So you're saying that my sexuality can change but your bullshit values can't? That's fucking stupid."

"Don't swear in my house, Blaine!" shouts Senator Anderson. "And don't you dare call me stupid."

"Stop making stupid excuses in order to keep your prehistoric values, then!" Blaine shoots back. "People change, Dad! Kurt's dad did. He used to call his friends fags and now he's out there campaigning for marriage equality. I don't see why you can't change, if he can!"

"I am a much better man than Burt Hummel ever will be," says Senator Anderson.

Blaine scoffs.

"Whatever helps you feel better about being an asshole," he murmurs darkly, before retreating to his room.