Following talks with Senator Anderson's security team, Blaine is no longer allowed to make his own way to school - a privilege he had fought hard for at the beginning of his father's presidential campaign. Instead, his father has him take a private car to and from school each day. Senator Anderson does give the okay for Blaine to pick up his friends on the way if he so chooses, but neither Nick nor Jeff live on the route to school, and, Blaine thinks to himself bitterly, they‘re probably the only two willing to take up the offer.

Well, okay, there are more people who would be willing...

On Thursday morning, Blaine gets out of the car to find Jenna waiting for him by the Dalton school gates, having made her way over from Crawford County across the road. As soon as Blaine's wished his driver a good day, she's walked over to greet him, pouting her lips sympathetically as she looks down at him.

"Blaine, your eye!" she coos. "Oh you poor thing-"

"Don't," warns Blaine, his fingers slowly but firmly encircling her wrist to prevent her from examining his bruises

"Blaine, I-"

"You should have never called that boy's dads what you did," hisses Blaine, letting go of Jenna's wrist. "Do you have any idea how offensive that is?"

"Well, it's only the truth," says Jenna, crossing her arms defensively.

 "You don't say that word, Jenna," explains Blaine slowly.

"Why are you getting so upset with me?" huffs Jenna. "I wasn't the one who beat you up."

 "That's not the point. Look, I'm not my father,," Blaine says firmly, meeting Jenna's angry gaze with his own. "And just - just don't bother with me anymore, okay? You're not my type."

Jenna narrows her eyes at Blaine, but he simply walks past her. True, he had been harsher than was necessary, but to Blaine, she's one of too many people who like him for all the wrong reasons. Recently it seems like all the bigots had begun to see Blaine as some type of saviour. Just the day before, while Blaine had been waiting for his car, James To's father clapped him on his back and assured him that, regardless of the media's take on the situation, Blaine and his father had Mr To's full support. The Religious Education teacher, who Blaine had found to be subtly homophobic despite appearing kind-hearted enough, gave him a wider-than-usual smile at the beginning of their lesson.  And a certain group of jocks seem to be looking at Blaine with a newfound respect.

Blaine steadfastly refuses to show any sign of gratitude towards his new admirers. He figures their friendship is something he neither wants nor needs. Despite the fact that Nick and Jeff aren't in all of his classes, he'd rather not replace the loneliness with the company of people who he'd spend their entire friendship having internal arguments with. He already has his father for that. Besides, he figures the school's love-hate feelings for him are just part of a phase that will pass just as quickly as this year's fall fashions.

It's about a week after Blaine's confrontation with Jenna, when he's on his way home in the car, that he remembers Kurt's promise to be there for him when things get lonely. After some hesitation, Blaine dials Kurt's number, and his spirits instantly soar when Kurt's voice, cheerful as always, greets his ears for the first time in nearly a fortnight. Blaine catches Kurt up on the change in his security situation, and Kurt's quick to remind Blaine that it's been years since he's been able to make his own way to school. But Kurt grows sympathetic as Blaine confesses to feeling lonely, and has a sufficiently long rant about the way people are so quick to judge someone based on their family alone. Blaine delights in knowing that Kurt has his back, that at least he's willing to see Blaine for who he is and not who he's related to.

 And because it feels natural, Kurt and Blaine fall into the habit of calling each other every afternoon, when they're both in their cars with only their drivers, who they both trust. And no matter how many classes Blaine's had without both Nick and Jeff that day, exchanging small talk with Kurt always manages to make him feel a little less alone.

Unfortunately, not even talks with Kurt can get rid of the discomfort Blaine feels whenever his car pulls up outside his house and he's forced to say goodbye to Kurt.

As sure as Blaine is of his sexuality, coming out had never seemed like a priority. What difference can it make, Blaine had reasoned, when all it really determines is who catches his eye when he's shopping, which celebrities he crushes on, and what porn he prefers to get off to? But now that Blaine likes Kurt, things are different. It isn't so much like he's expecting anything to happen - Kurt seems perfectly content with Harry, after all- but there's still the knowledge that there's even the slightest possibility of something more. Blaine never thought of himself as much of a romantic, but he constantly catches himself daydreaming about all the what if's that could happen - if only he was out.

But it's more than that. Blaine's previous crushes had been mainly on upperclassmen who he admired from afar, or celebrities on his favourite TV shows who he'd grown to love. Now, for the first time, he has a crush on a boy that he's known and touched and talked to. And it's why his crush on Kurt is a stark reminder that his sexuality is real. It's a part of him that isn't going to go away, and isn't going to change. And while it's been years since the last time Blaine's denied his sexuality to himself, he's still made a habit of trying to ignore it whenever he can. His anger about his father's homophobic remarks, for instance, had until now always been spurred from Blaine's principles, for he seemed to realise on some level that if he were to acknowledge his sexuality in the moments when his father was mouthing off, he'd take it too personally to not become emotional about it.

But with everything which had happened recently, Blaine's father is mouthing off about the apparent evils of the "gay agenda" more often than Blaine is used to. And with Blaine's heightened awareness of his sexuality, he finds it impossible to ignore the fact that his father is, however unaware he may be of it, insulting him. And on numerous occasions, Blaine finds himself getting teary-eyed at the dinner table after his father's rants, imagining what his father would say to him if he knew the truth about his own son. But he always blinks back his tears before anyone sees them. Or so he thinks. Mrs Anderson, on several occasions, after Senator Anderson has left the table, looks over at Blaine sympathetically, as if inviting him to speak. But she's never said anything herself, and again and again Blaine keeps it in, to save his family the trouble.

It's a month after the bashing, at an event for his father's party, that Blaine's finally pushed over the edge. He's suited up for the occasion, in a tailored Armani suit - one of the few of his father's extravagances that Blaine delights in. The function hall which had been booked for the evening is cleared of tables, and waiters flutter about serving appetisers and drinks. Blaine makes small talk with Jaden, the son of the party's candidate for the other Senate seat for the state of Washington. After a few minutes, they're approached by Senator Green, a petite lady with ash-blonde hair and a smile that's too wide to be entirely genuine.

"Blaine!" she exclaims upon spotting him. "I heard about your eye. You poor thing. Does it still hurt?"

"Oh no, I'm fine now, Senator Green," says Blaine politely.

"Please, you know it's ‘Mrs Green' inside party lines," says Senator Green with a playful wink. Blaine smiles meekly in response. It's not like Senator Green isn't friendly enough - she's probably one of the more down-to-earth of the party Senators - but Blaine still has vivid memories of her mouthing off about the ‘perils of the gay agenda' at one of his father's dinner parties, and it's no longer something that he can easily push to the back of his mind.

"How are you doing, Naomi?" says Senator Anderson, coming up from behind Senator Green and handing her one of the champagne glasses that he's holding.

"I'm quite well," says Senator Green. "I was just talking to your son about the attack a couple of weeks ago. Dreadful stuff, isn't it?"

"Definitely," says Senator Anderson. "And did you see the media coverage about it too? That was simply appalling. I mean, the Hummel kid gets a picture of him graffitied and instantly he's to be pitied, but my kid gets bashed and he's only the innocent victim if he has the same political views as the editor? They sure are right when they say that gays and straight people don't have equal rights - it seems everyone's willing to go out of their way to protect them."

Anger flares up inside Blaine. He clenches his jaw, bites his tongue, to stop himself from making a scene at his father's event.

 Yes Dad, because being attacked by the media is the same as having equal rights in the workplace and the right to marry and the right to raise kids and the right to not be made into a joke because of who you love.

When Senator Anderson and Senator Green are busy talking to Jaden about how his older sister's doing in prelaw, Blaine surreptitiously pulls out his phone and sends Kurt a quick text:

6:32pm: I know it's a Saturday night and you're probably busy, but when you're free I'd really like to talk to you.

It's another twenty minutes later that Blaine's phone begins to vibrate silently in his blazer pocket. On retrieving it, he sees that it's Kurt who's calling, and hastily excuses himself onto the balcony to answer it.

"Kurt," says Blaine, exhaling a breath he hadn't realised he was holding.

"Blaine, hey," says Kurt. "I'm sorry I couldn't call earlier. I was watching a movie with Harry and it just finished."

"Oh," says Blaine. Of course, Kurt had told him the other day that he'd be out with Harry tonight. "Never mind then. Have a nice night."

"Wait," says Kurt urgently, as Blaine goes to hang up. "Blaine, you sound really upset. What's wrong?"

"It's nothing," insists Blaine.

"Blaine, you sound like you're about to be physically ill-"

"I'm gay."

Blaine blurts it out without thinking, and it's only after he's done so that he looks behind him to check that no one's within earshot. Thankfully, the coast is clear. His only worry now is that Kurt, of all people, has been rendered speechless.

"Kurt?" says Blaine tentatively. "I shouldn't have said anything, should I? I'm sorry, I just - I was getting overwhelmed and I needed to tell someone."

"Don't ever apologise for coming out, Blaine," says Kurt, finally finding his voice. "I was just shocked. I- wow. Give me a moment to process that. Senator Anderson's son, who would have thought...."

"Yeah."

"Oh, crap, Senator Anderson's son," Kurt repeats, as if the words have acquired a new meaning. "Blaine, do you need to talk?"

 "Yes," says Blaine, not bothering to hide the desperation in his voice. "Kurt, you have no idea. I don't have anyone else."

"Okay," says Kurt. "We're going to dinner at a place a bit closer to my house - I'll text you the address. Can you come over? And promise to call as soon as you get here. No stalling because you don't want to ‘ruin my evening' or however it is your brain works."

 "I'm at an event for Dad anyway. I'll probably be a while," says Blaine.

"Alright, but don't feel the need to take your time," says Kurt, with a motherly severity.

"Thankyou," says Blaine. "And Kurt? Please don't tell anyone."

"Of course not."

Getting permission to go out after the event is easier than Blaine would have thought. Enough time has passed since the football game for Senator Anderson's concerns about his son's safety to have subsided enough that they're overruled by Mrs Anderson's concerns about the fact that he hasn't been out since.  Add to that the fact that there's no risk of premeditated attack and it's enough for Senator Anderson to give the okay for Blaine to make his own way to meet Kurt.

When Blaine's taxi pulls up outside an Italian restaurant a half-hour's drive from downtown Washington, it's Kurt's breathy laugh that gives the first sign of his presence. Blaine turns away from the restaurant to see Kurt, discernible in the darkness by the silhouette of his signature quiff, sitting on a bench on the other side of the street, facing away towards the park. Next to him sits another figure, his arm around Kurt's shoulder as he leans in close to whisper in Kurt's ear.

Blaine crosses the street and clears his throat to announce his presence. Kurt's startled eyes dart up to meet Blaine's, before softening on recognising him.

"Hey," says Kurt.

"Hey," Blaine exhales, his warm breath turning into a puff of steam in the chilly November night air.

 Kurt stands up, giving Blaine a better look at him.  Knee-high boots poke out from underneath a black winter coat that's much too big for Kurt's figure. Beside him, the other boy stands too, and Blaine knows immediately that this must be the Harry that Kurt gets so dreamy about. From the light of a nearby streetlight, Blaine can see for himself, under Harry's plain white dress shirt, the outline of the broad shoulders and toned torso which Kurt had gushed about during one of their many afterschool phone calls.  

Out of politeness, Blaine extends his hand towards Harry.

"Hi, my name's-"

 "Blaine Anderson," says Harry curtly. "Yeah, I know who you are. Harry Sharma."

Harry grips Blaine's hand slightly longer and harder than is strictly necessary. Blaine thinks he sees a threat in his eyes, but all sign of it is gone as soon as he releases Blaine's hand to look at Kurt affectionately.

"You alright to get home, Kurt?" Harry asks.

"Yes, thankyou Harry," says Kurt, and Blaine notices - with a mingled sense of happiness and despair - that Kurt appears to be happier than Blaine's ever seen him. Granted, the few times Blaine has seen Kurt recently have involved hospital beds and hate crimes and awkward introductions following speeches by homophobic father's, but it still stirs within Blaine a jealousy which he's ashamed of.

 "Oh," says Kurt, looking down at himself. "Harry, I'm still wearing your coat."

"Keep it," says Harry. "You'll freeze without it. I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay," says Kurt with a smile.

Harry gives Kurt a quick kiss on the cheek, nods his head at Blaine, and walks across the park. Kurt watches him go, smiling contentedly, before turning to Blaine.

"We can't talk out here," says Kurt, glancing around. The passers-by are few seeing as how late it is, and how far away from the city they are, but with Blaine dressed so dapperly, it's still too much of a risk. Kurt nudges his head for Blaine to walk with him up the footpath. "Armani, right?"

"Yes," says Blaine. "It was an event formal enough to warrant a suit, and yet all they could afford to feed us was finger food, apparently."

"Well, I think it's safe to say that any event that has you in a suit is worth attending," says Kurt, giving Blaine a once-over. "That suit fits you amazingly."

Blaine's pride swells at the complement. They reach a parked black BMW. Kurt pulls open the back door and, with a flourish of his arm as if he were a doorman, gestures for Blaine to enter, before getting in behind him.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Paul," says Kurt to the driver, a middle-aged man with the faintest of bald spots on the crown of his head.

 "That's more than alright, Kurt. You know I love the overtime pay," says Paul, giving Kurt a friendly wink in the rear-view mirror.

"You say that as if you're not saving me from social seclusion," says Kurt. As the car pulls out from the curb, Kurt turns to Blaine and explains, "If it weren't for Paul being willing to drive me places, I swear Dad wouldn't be letting me out at night until the campaign's over. And there's no way I'm spending my Senior year cramped up in my room studying every night."

"Wow, that bad, huh?" says Blaine. "Although perhaps he has good reason. Going out on such a cold night without a coat? I would have expected better from the Kurt Hummel. I thought you said you live for the opportunity to wear a good coat."

"Sometimes you have to make sacrifices to make way for romantic gestures," says Kurt coyly. "And before you judge, I'm going to his football game tomorrow, so he'll get his coat back before he freezes to death, and I'll get the chance to wear a nice scarf."

"Football?" says Blaine thoughtfully. "I suppose I should have guessed that given how big that coat is for you. Or by how hard he gripped my hand back there.

Kurt looks guiltily over at Blaine.

"Sorry about that," he says. "Harry's kind of passionate about politics."

"Don't worry, I'm used to it," shrugs Blaine, relieved that Harry's anger had nothing to do with noticing Blaine's crush on Kurt.

"You shouldn't have to be," says Kurt.

He reaches out to curl his fingers around Blaine's, giving them a comforting squeeze. Blaine looks down at their interlinked hands, before giving Kurt a grateful smile.

They travel the rest of the way in silence, both of them contemplating what they're together to talk about yet cautious not to give Paul even the slightest hint of it. A few minutes later, the car pulls up outside a sizable house with a high, black-barred gate bordering the front.

 "Thanks, Paul," says Kurt.

"No worries," says Paul. "You kids have fun now."

Kurt rolls his eyes, as he and Blaine empty out onto the street. Kurt slides open the gate and Blaine follows him in, peering around at the perfectly maintained flower garden contained within.

 "Carole gardens when she's stressed," Kurt explains on seeing the look of admiration on Blaine's face. "She used to unwind by taking up more shifts at the hospital before Dad figured out what she was doing and recommend she direct her stress elsewhere. With Dad's old garage doing well enough back in Ohio, he says there's no reason she should have to work herself to death."

Kurt unlocks the front door and turns off the security system with a remote control from his pocket. He gives a final wave goodbye to Paul, who drives away once they've crossed the threshold.

"So your dad kept the garage open?" asks Blaine.

 "Yes," says Kurt, shrugging off Harry's coat as they enter the dark entranceway. Kurt flicks on the light and hangs up the coat on the nearby coat rack. "When he first got elected to Senate, he didn't really have time to take care of the shop, so he let one of the other mechanics manage it. It's ironic, but it was only after we all moved out here that we really started considering the garage as an extra source of income.  Maybe it was because he didn't have us to spend time with when he went back, but Dad started stopping by the store whenever he was in Lima. And then the guy who managed it retired and Dad kind of remembered its potential. He managed everything by himself up until the stress got too much for him. He trusted all the guys he hired, he made all the orders through his computer - with a lot of help from me and Finn, I might add - and he made time to check all the records and make sure everything was in order. But now that Finn and I are old enough to be left alone, and Dad's busier,  whenever Dad goes back Carole goes back with him, and now she's the one making sure everything's running smoothly. It's almost her garage now: she's the one who checks all the books and makes sure we've hired enough staff, and she was the one who convinced Dad to buy the next lot over so we could expand. They've hired someone to overlook everything while we're not there, but it still rakes in a lot more for us than Dad would have ever dreamt of."

As Kurt talks, he and Blaine make their way towards a clean yet cluttered kitchen. While the surfaces are stainless, different utensils and cooking ingredients are scattered atop the benches. In the corner stands a fridge that must be double the size of the Anderson's. Blaine's surprise must be evident on his face, because Kurt addresses his amazement.

"I bake a lot," says Kurt, pulling open the fridge door. "And Finn eats like, well, like a teenage boy who doesn't give a crap about his figure. I made a soufflé today actually, but Finn's at his friend Puck's this weekend and my parents are back in Ohio, so you're going to have to help me eat it."

Blaine settles on a stool at the kitchen bench as Kurt places a perfectly-risen soufflé in front of him. Blaine's mouth begins to water in anticipation. Kurt pulls out two dessert bowls and teaspoons, and begins serving out a sizable portion for Blaine. Out of politeness, Blaine half-heartedly attempts to refuse. But Kurt gives him a glare, tells Blaine that no way is he leaving Kurt alone with a whole soufflé all weekend, and slides the bowl across the bench to him. Kurt serves himself a much smaller slice, before settling down on a kitchen stool opposite Blaine.

"Now that we're well equipped for a deep and meaningful," says Kurt. He looks across at Blaine, gaze softening. "How are you doing?"

 "Good," says Blaine. "Except, not really. It's just...after everything that happened after that football game, my dad's been more - it's hard to describe. It's like he's been more repulsed by gay people than usual. And usually I can just ignore it, except now I can't any more. Not when it's so obvious and so frequent, how often I catch him saying something that ticks me off. I mean, it's little things, but it's so obvious how much he despises them, and how much he despises me."

Blaine leaves out the bit about how the reason he can no longer ignore it is because of his feelings for Kurt. There's a moment of silence, during which Kurt swallows his bite of soufflé thoughtfully.

 "You do know he would never hate you, right?" says Kurt quietly.

"But that's the thing, I don't know that," says Blaine. "My dad's a homophobe and we both know it. You have no idea how much I wish he was like your dad."

"My dad wasn't always the best ally though," says Kurt.

Blaine raises his eyebrows at the insinuation that Burt wasn't always the perfect-model-of-a-gay-son's-father that the media makes him out to be.

"It was before I was born," Kurt says. "Like ages before. Back when he was young and playing football with the guys. They'd tell each other to stop being a fag whenever someone screwed up. Little things like that. It still hurt to hear about it, because I knew what they meant, and he knew it too - that they were saying that being gay was something to be ashamed of. But then I realised that it doesn't matter anymore. Not to me, anyway. All I care about is that, since then, he's gotten so much better. And it wasn't even like he was perfect when I came out to him, but now he's got my back 100%."

 "But you've always said your dad knew since you were three, right?" says Blaine. Kurt smiles reminiscently, remembering the story that Senator Hummel was so fond of telling - about how Kurt asked for a sensible pair of heels when he was younger. "He had a good 12 years to get used to who you were before you came out."

"Right," says Kurt. "And that's true, but it was still...it was still something we had to deal with together. But your dad, he has no clue. I bet no one's even suspected - especially with the whole metrosexual trend that's going around. Maybe all he needs is time. And I mean, it sucks that some people won't change until someone they love turns out to be gay, but that's still something that changes the way people see us. You have to believe that people can change, because they can. You have to believe that or there's no point even fighting for our rights. You just need to give them a chance. Maybe you coming out would change the way that your father sees things."

"I can't change the whole party," says Blaine sadly.  "You're right though. And I'm so sick of hiding who I am. But coming out - it wouldn't just affect me. My dad's campaign is built around conservative values. So I figured, what's the harm in waiting until the next election?"

"There's always going to be a next election, Blaine," says Kurt softly.

 "I can last four years," says Blaine with a shrug, though he's beginning to see the flaws in his plan.

"And what if your dad loses? What if he just keeps becoming candidate? Before you know it, you'll have gone all the way through college closeted. Think about how many relationships you'll have missed out on. I'm not saying that you should come out before you're ready but just...remember that this is about you. You shouldn't have to come out for anyone but yourself, but you shouldn't have to hide who you are for anyone else either."

Blaine nods, and they descend into silence, the only sounds filling the room being that of the scraping of spoons against bowls as they finish their servings of soufflé.

"That was amazing," says Blaine, after he's finished chasing the last crumbs around his bowl with his spoon.

"Why thankyou, kind sir," says Kurt, taking his and Blaine's bowls and placing them in a nearly-filled dishwasher. Kurt wipes at his long, pale fingers with a dishcloth. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course," says Blaine.

"Okay, I don't mean to doubt your sexuality by asking this, but how do you know you're not bi?"

"I have to admit, I hoped I was for a while. But then I went to a party a few months back and I kissed a girl over Truth or Dare. Wasn't quite the magical first kiss I was expecting," says Blaine. He has vivid memories of the talkative brunette who he had been made to kiss before he'd had even a sip of cider to ease him into the evening.

"Been there," mutters Kurt. "A few years back, I went through a bit of a....pseudo-straight phase, if you will. Needless to say, there's no way I'm going back. And let me guess, she was pretty enough for you to know that it wasn't just because you were kissing the wrong girl?"

"Exactly," says Blaine.

If Blaine had told anyone else, they probably would have suspected it might be because of the girl, but not Kurt. He, like Blaine, knows well enough that you don't need a whole lot of experience to be sure of who you are. Coming out to Kurt, Blaine had felt a weight lifted off his shoulders. Blaine may not have quite shouted it from the rooftops, but he's finally told someone who understands some of what he's going through. Finally, Blaine has someone he can talk to without having to hide who he is.