Kurt’s bedroom was illuminated only by the bedside lamp and the light pouring in from the hallway. But it was enough for Burt, standing in the doorway, to grasp the situation. Kurt lying on his back in bed, with Blaine curled up on top of him, head on Kurt’s chest, both of them fast asleep. Both of them shirtless, covered to the waist with a light blanket. Burt looked away … only to notice two pairs of pants and underwear in a pile on the floor next to the bed. His pulse rose with the discomfort of thinking about his kid this way, and with a bit of anger. He looked back at the boys. Their faces were so peaceful, so calm. No way was this the first time.

Burt was well aware that Kurt and Blaine had been fooling around, to some extent or another, for quite a while now. He was awkwardly familiar with the frantic rustling sounds from upstairs when he got home from work. Awkwardly familiar with Kurt emerging from his room breathless and rumpled, with Blaine a moment behind him, asking if it was all right for Blaine to stay for dinner. And when he’d noticed hickies on Kurt’s neck a couple of times, well, awkward wasn’t nearly a strong enough word for that. He’d done his best to put the ideas out of his mind, to not think about what exactly they might be doing, figuring that his son would keep things PG-13 at the most. But there was no ignoring anything, not anymore. There it was, staring him in the face, decidedly not PG-13, not open to questions. Well, what exactly was still a question, but he was certainly not going to think about it. Ever.

He backed away, closing the door without making a sound.

*   *   *

“I want to blind myself, like one of those Greek tragedies.” Burt stared into his mug of decaf as Carole smiled sympathetically.

“Did you actually … see … anything?” she asked.

“No, thank god. Just the … evidence. Should I go wake them up and send Blaine home? I couldn’t bring myself to go into the room. Maybe I could just knock really loud? Christ, I can’t believe this is happening to me.”

“I’d say let them sleep, talk to them in the morning,” Carole said. 

Burt looked up, scandalized. “You want to just let them have sex in our house, with no consequences?”

“It makes sense. This is not a relationship we want to discourage. Quite the opposite, right?” 

Burt nodded. “Yeah, they’re great for each other, but—” 

“And it’s not like they’re going to get accidentally knocked up.” Carole grinned. “Been there, parented that. Almost, anyway.”

“Still—” 

“I’m not comfortable about Blaine’s parents, either. They leave him alone too much, don’t ask enough questions. They’re out of town so often. Isn’t it better to keep an eye on the two of them here, rather than have them spending their time over at that empty house?”

“There, you have a good point,” Burt said.

“They love each other. They’ve been together a decent amount of time—it’s August, so five months now. You can’t stop them from having sex, short of grounding Kurt permanently, and you have no desire to break the two of them up. You’re just going to have to accept this.” Carole set her coffee mug down on the table with a thunk.

“I hate to say it, but you’re right.” Burt sighed. “What the hell am I going to say to them in the morning?”

“You’ll figure something out.” Carole smiled. “I’ll make sure they come down to breakfast. You call Blaine’s parents, I think they’re in town this week, and let them know Blaine fell asleep here. Tactfully, Burt. They shouldn’t hear the whole story from you.”

“Mrs. Anderson?” Burt spoke into the phone. “I’m sorry to bother you so late. I wanted to let you know, Blaine is still over here, I went to send him home but it turns out he fell asleep. I didn’t want to wake him, so I thought—” She sounds suspicious. “What do I mean he fell asleep? I mean he fell asleep. He’s been so tired, with four shows a day at Six Flags on the weekends, I figured why wake him for a long drive home?” Why didn’t I just wake him up and avoid this mess? “No, my wife and I were out until eleven, but my stepson was home, they weren’t here alone… Seventeen. My stepson is seventeen. Same as Kurt.” I didn’t think she would ask so many questions. “I could send him home, but I just thought if he was tired enough to fall asleep here, he needs the rest… Right. Yeah, okay. Thanks. I’ll tell him.” Burt sighed. At least she didn’t ask where Blaine was sleeping. Had he given away too much? Well, what would I have thought if I’d received that call? 

“They’re not going to be happy,” he told Carole. “Blaine’s parents.”

“Then you’ll just have to be extra nice to make up for it.”

*   *   *

“Shit! Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit!” 

Blaine was not sure if it was Kurt’s long string of curses that woke him up, or the way he violently rolled to his side, toppling Blaine off of him. He rubbed his eyes groggily. “What? Am I still here? What time is it?”

“Five thirty in the morning.”

“Oh, shit. We’re dead. We’re so dead.” Blaine sat straight up in bed. “My mother has probably called the police by now.” He glanced at the clock to confirm what Kurt had said. “Wait, what’s this?” He picked up a sheet of lined paper from the bedside table, next to the clock.

“Dear Kurt,” he read aloud. “Blaine’s mother says it’s fine for him to sleep over. You are both required to come down for breakfast with your dad at 7. Love, Carole. Good god, she drew a little heart.”

“Shit,” Kurt repeated, in a completely different tone of voice.

“We’re still dead,” Blaine said. “It’ll just be slower and more painful.”

“Do you realize what this means?” Kurt threw himself back onto the pillow. “She walked in here and saw us. She was inches away, leaving this note on the table there. Maybe my dad saw us, too. This is the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to me in my entire life.”

“As I was saying,” Blaine replied, “We’re dead.” But after a thoughtful moment, he curled himself up beside Kurt. “We still have at least half an hour before we have to get up, though.” His hand started to slowly stroke Kurt’s chest, moving downward. “What’s the one last thing you want to do before you die?”

Kurt whimpered softly under his touch. Blaine took that as encouragement and slid down to place soft kisses on Kurt’s stomach, then his hip, then close against the base of his hardening cock. “Blaine!” Kurt gasped out. “Stop that! I’ll never be able to stay quiet! You have to stop!”

Blaine pouted. “You didn’t object last night,” he said.

“Last night nobody was home except Finn, and he was completely absorbed in the Xbox downstairs,” Kurt said. “Now he’s sleeping just on the other side of that wall, and my dad or Carole could walk by the door any minute. Come on, Blaine. Come back up here.”

Blaine swung his leg over Kurt to straddle him, then pressed his body down. Kurt moaned as their cocks pressed together, but Blaine muffled the sound with a wet, open kiss. Blaine found a rhythm, rocking his hips forward and back on top of his boyfriend. Kurt relaxed, and his hands settled on top of Blaine’s shoulders, then wandered lower, their mouths still locked together to swallow any noise. Soon Kurt was clutching Blaine’s ass, pressing him harder forward. One hand moved to trace down his crack, sliding softly over his hole, and oh, this was new, and Blaine shuddered with pleasure and drew a sharp breath in. So Kurt touched again, making a gentle circle around, and then once again with more pressure.

When Blaine started to come undone, he was all words. “Oh god, Kurt, yes, yes, oh, that’s what I want, I want you, there, there, inside me, oh Kurt, oh, I think about it all the time.” He was collapsed on top of Kurt’s body, rutting against him faster than before but with his head down, mumbling into Kurt’s neck. “I want you inside me, your fingers, your cock, inside me, I want it, I want it so bad, I never told you, I want you, god Kurt, I want you to fuck me, god, just like that, soon, I want us to try it soon, I want you on top of me and inside me and—”

Blaine’s words cut off when Kurt flipped the two of them over in a smooth, sudden motion. Kurt’s eyes were wild as he gazed down at his boyfriend, shocked and excited by the picture he was painting. He reached down between the two of them to line up their cocks together, then started pressing with his body in a rhythm again. “Keep talking,” he said.

“I want you so bad, I want you in me,” Blaine was panting, staring up at Kurt with dilated pupils. “You’ll put your fingers in me, won’t you? Won’t you, Kurt? You’ll get me all stretched out and ready, all ready, so ready for you, Kurt, oh, I want you. I can almost feel it, like you’re there right now, oh I want you so bad.”

Kurt bent down and whispered in Blaine’s ear, hands on his shoulders, still rutting on top of him. “I’m there. Feel it. Close your eyes, feel it.”

Blaine’s eyes fluttered closed. “I want you, Kurt, but I’m so scared. Please, be gentle, be gentle with me.” Kurt slowed his thrusts to a soft rocking motion, caressing Blaine’s face and neck with one hand. “And you’re on top of me, just like this, and you press your cock into me, just a little bit, oh god Kurt, oh god it feels so good, don’t stop, please, I want you all the way.”

“Yes,” Kurt whispered, rocking a little bit harder.

“And then you’re in me and oh Kurt, it feels amazing, why was I scared, why was I ever scared of this? And you push harder and harder and oh god, you’re so good.” Kurt matched his pace to Blaine’s description, and he was thrusting, grinding down onto his boyfriend, going mad with the idea of being inside him one day. “Come for me, Kurt, I want to feel you come in me.” 

Kurt’s whole body shuddered as he came all over Blaine’s stomach, gasping. After a moment, he rolled to his side and took Blaine’s cock in his hand. Blaine only needed a few quick strokes to fall apart with his own release.

“Blaine?” Kurt said, once his boyfriend had relaxed into his arms again. “Is that really … I mean … do you really want to do that? Soon?”

“God yes,” Blaine moaned.

“We’re never going to get a chance,” Kurt said. “Not after tonight, they’ll never let us be alone for long enough.”

Blaine turned to look at his boyfriend, eyes still burning with desire. “They won’t take you away from me,” he said. “I won’t let them. I don’t care if I have to hide with you in the back seat of my car or get down on my knees in a bathroom stall, I will be with you.”

“You dirty, dirty man,” Kurt said, grinning.

“But this way is best,” Blaine said. He ran his fingers across the line of Kurt’s jaw, to his chin. “Sweet and relaxed, in a warm bed with your arms around me. It’s so perfect.”

“I love you, Blaine.”

They both jumped out of their skins as the alarm clock let out an ear-splitting buzz.

“I did not set that alarm!” Kurt stammered.

“That stepmother of yours is really something.” Blaine laughed and rolled out of bed. “Dibs on the shower.”

*   *   *

This does not look like death, Blaine thought as he and Kurt walked into the kitchen. Burt was scooping a large pile of scrambled eggs and turkey bacon onto a platter, and there were pancakes waiting, too. Not exactly what you serve for breakfast if you’re about to ground your son for life and exile his boyfriend from your house.

“Sit,” Burt commanded, turning away from the stove. He walked to the kitchen table and sat across from the two of them, still holding the spatula. “So,” he said gruffly, but Blaine noticed a little gleam in his eye as he waved the spatula at them. “What do you two have to say for yourselves?” 

The last puzzle piece fell sharply into place, and Blaine suddenly knew the exact move he should make. The corner of his mouth twisted up into a half-smile as he said, “Sir, my intentions with your son are entirely honorable.”

Kurt buried his face in his hands, in horror. But Burt just let out a breath and dropped his stern façade.

“Honestly, that’s basically what I want to hear,” Burt said. Kurt’s eyes peeked out from behind his hands. “Look, it’s obvious that you two … you really mean something to each other.” Kurt and Blaine shared a glance and couldn’t help smiling. “Okay, okay, yeah, more than ‘something,’ I know. And Blaine, I like you, you’re a good guy and you’re good to Kurt. I wish that you two had waited longer before … uh … before … but it’s not up to me, and I can’t seriously object.”

Kurt’s mouth was gaping open. “You … can’t seriously …?”

“I just insist on two things,” Burt continued. “First, be safe. Second, always respect each other. Always.”

“We will,” Blaine piped up. “We do. Really.” Kurt nodded, still speechless.

“Kurt, I told you once, no sleepovers without asking my permission first. In fact,” Burt’s eyes were twinkling again, “I think it was this very same boy that prompted that discussion, and here he is again.”

“I’m really sorry, Dad. It wasn’t on purpose, we just…”

“I know. So here’s the deal going forward.” Burt’s tone was serious again. “You’re teenagers, I know you’re going to … do … uh … what you’re doing … no matter what I say. So I don’t see how it makes any difference where you actually sleep.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Blaine, you can spend the night here sometimes if you want. But only if your parents know that you two are having sex.” Blaine’s eyes showed his sudden terror, mirrored by Burt’s shock at having actually just said that word out loud. “I’m not saying you have to tell them. That’s your business, you know best how they’ll take it. I called your mother last night, but all I said was that you fell asleep. But I won’t lie for you. I won’t hide the truth again. You can’t stay the night again unless your parents know. If you don’t want to tell them, fine, but you’ll have to go home at eleven like before.”

Blaine was silent for a moment. “Thank you,” he finally said.

“Yeah, Dad, thank you,” Kurt repeated, stunned at the entire turn of events. 

“Your mother said you need to come home right after work today,” Burt added.

“Okay,” Blaine said.

“Now eat,” Burt grinned. “You must be starving.”

*   *   *

On Sundays, Blaine’s last show was at 6 PM. When it was over, he packed up his costume and put it away in his backstage locker, changing back into the yellow t-shirt he’d borrowed from Kurt that morning. He checked his phone. I can’t tell them, he’d texted his boyfriend right before the show. They’d kill me.

It’s okay, Kurt had texted back. You don’t need to tell them. I love you.

I love you, too.

Blaine pulled into his driveway just before 8 PM. He took a deep breath and walked into his house, keeping his phone in his hand just for something to fiddle with during what was definitely going to be a difficult conversation. Sure enough, his parents were seated in the living room, waiting for him.

“Sit down, Blaine,” his father said. Blaine sat uncomfortably on the upholstered sofa, facing his parents across the coffee table. 

“This behavior has gone on long enough,” his father said. “I thought you would grow out of it on your own, I really did, but I see now that it’s just getting worse. Much worse. You’re … you’re having sex with him, aren’t you? With that boy you’ve been trailing around after.”

“Yes,” Blaine said quietly. If his parents already suspected, it was no use trying to hide it. He’d learned that lesson long ago.

Blaine’s mother gasped quietly. His father clenched his teeth, pressing his fist against his mouth to hide his emotion. After a moment to regain his composure, he spoke again. “Look, I understand, you have urges. I wish you didn’t have these particular sorts of urges, but if that’s your lot in life, it is what it is. You need to learn to control them, not let them control you. It’s part of becoming an adult. You can’t just act on whatever you feel, it would destroy your life. Look at what this has already done to you. To your physical safety, remember that wretched Sadie Hawkins dance? To your social life, you had to change schools and lose all your old friends. To your standing in society, did you know there are people at the country club who won’t even invite your mother and me to dinner because of you? You’re part of this family, and you need to think about how your conduct reflects on all of us.”

“Is this about me or about you?” Blaine asked sarcastically.

“Well, both,” his father sounded a bit testy. Mrs. Anderson reached out to touch her husband’s hand gently, and he took a deep breath to calm down. “It’s essential to keep up appearances. If you don’t, you will find so many doors closed to you in life. And it will affect your mother and me, too, and your brother, the whole family. We have to behave as respectable people, in public at the very least, but preferably in private as well. And that’s why it’s so inappropriate for you to be with this boy. It’s … people don’t like gays, Blaine. It will go on hurting you, as long as you let it control you. And this boy in particular, I’ve met him at some of those Dalton events, he wouldn’t be right for you even if he were a girl. I mean, his father is a car mechanic, for crying out loud!”

“I can’t believe this,” Blaine said under his breath.

“Excuse me, you don’t speak to your father that way,” Mr. Anderson said in a warning tone.

“I’m sorry,” Blaine mumbled.

“I’ve waited long enough for you to give this up on your own. I’m putting my foot down now. Here’s what is going to happen. You are going to break up with this boy. Right away.” Blaine’s eyes filled with anger, but his father ignored it. “And then you will choose a nice girl to date, to make everyone forget that it ever happened. If you take my advice, choose a religious one. She’ll be relieved that you’re not pressuring her for sex. Though really, that boy of yours looks so girly anyway that I hardly see what the difference is.” Blaine’s anger silently turned to rage. “You will learn to control your urges. And if you can’t, you know, there are men who will discretely … for money … you don’t need your own private whore.” Blaine didn’t even have a word for the emotion that took over his body at that moment.

“Robert!” Blaine’s mother was covering her mouth with both hands.

“Sorry, Laura. I shouldn’t have said…” Mr. Anderson looked slightly embarrassed. “Call him, Blaine. Call him right now and break up with him.”

“I won’t,” Blaine said as calmly as he could manage, gripping his phone so hard his knuckles were turning white.

“This is not negotiable,” his father said angrily. “You’re seventeen years old, and I’m your father, and while you’re living in my house, you’ll follow my rules. No dating boys. I will not have it. You do as I say.”

“No,” said Blaine.

“Do it now,” his father’s tone was icy cold. “Or leave this house until you’re willing to obey me.”

Blaine’s phone hit the wall with such force that it shattered into a dozen pieces. Everyone froze in stunned silence for a moment. Then Blaine turned on his heel and ran up the stairs, slamming the door of his room.

He paced across his bedroom, not seeing anything, blinded by his pounding heartbeat and the rush of thoughts in his head. He’s not really going to kick me out. Mom will calm him down, she wanted to be reasonable, she just couldn’t get a word in edgewise, she’ll calm him down now that I’m out of the room. How could he say those things about me? God, how could he say those things about Kurt? Oh my god. He’s not really going to kick me out. God, I wish I had my phone, I need to call Kurt. He’s not really going to kick me out.

The knock on his door came after only five minutes. “Come in,” Blaine called, his voice wavering.

It was his mother. She looked sad and sympathetic. She was dragging something behind her … oh god, a rolling suitcase. Blaine blinked back tears.

“Honey, this is not what I planned.” She looked like she was about to cry, too. “But I think it’s best if you leave for a while. He’s just so stubborn, you know when he says something it takes a lot to change his mind. I’ll talk to him, he’ll calm down I think, in a few days, maybe a week. You have somewhere you can go?”

“Yeah.”

“He says you have an hour to pack. If it takes a bit longer, it’ll be fine, I’ll keep him out of your path.” She walked to the door, then turned. “Blaine, take these few days and think with your head. Is fooling around with a boy really worth making your father this angry?”

Blaine didn’t answer. He was out the door within half an hour.

*   *   *

When the doorbell rang at 10 PM, it was Burt who answered, Kurt standing right behind him. On the doorstep, Blaine was a wreck, his hair a mess, his eyes red and puffy, barely seeing what was in front of him.

“My dad kicked me out of the house. Can I stay here? Just for a few days?” There was despair in Blaine’s voice.

“Oh, god,” Burt breathed out. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”