Kurt’s spine prickled at the sound of his father’s angry voice yelling up the stairs. He knew that tone very, very well: Come here right now. I’m angry and I have a bone to pick with you.

“Yeah?” Kurt yelled back loudly. He held out hope that he wouldn’t have to leave the quiet comfort of his bedroom, where he’d spent the past hour flipping through photos of suits and tuxes online. There were only a few weeks left to find something fabulous to wear to senior prom. Something even better than his junior prom outfit; something that would make Blaine’s jaw drop to the floor.

“Get down here right now. We need to talk.”

Kurt huffed out a breath at his father’s stern reply, pushing his chair back from his desk. “What did I do now?” he muttered to himself as he walked out of his room and slowly descended the stairs.

He found his father standing in the living room, reading from a piece of paper in his hand. Kurt crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow. “Yes?” He eyed the paper, assuming it had something to do with his father’s current pissed-off state. “What’s that?”

Burt glared at Kurt. Wordlessly, he held the paper up in front of Kurt’s face. “Maybe you should tell me,” he snapped.

Kurt saw the New York University letterhead first. Then he skimmed the black and white text on the page.

Dear Kurt,

Congratulations! We’ve received your roommate request and are happy to inform you that you’ve been assigned to Peyton Hall with Blaine Anderson for the 2012-2013 school year.

Shit. Kurt felt his heart start to beat rapidly. His widened eyes flickered from the letter to his father’s seething expression.

“Dad…” he began. But his father didn’t seem to want to listen to him just yet.

“When were you gonna tell me that the two of you were planning to live together?”

Kurt knew he should have told his father about this a long time ago. Like last summer, when Blaine first suggested the idea while lying in Kurt’s bed, hearts in his eyes. Or in winter, when they both excitedly gabbed about how they would decorate their dorm room together. And definitely in March, as he cried with joy when Blaine got his acceptance letter from NYU, and all their dreams finally, finally started to become reality.

He’d had plenty of opportunities to talk about it, too. But nerves would bubble up in his throat every time Burt asked about New York and moving and Blaine’s plans. It was so awkward; just the thought of saying those words aloud – “Blaine and I have decided we want to live together when we go to New York” – made Kurt cringe. So he let time drag on, even as he and Blaine both sent in the paperwork requesting each other as roommates.

“I…I’m sorry, Dad. We’ve been talking about it for awhile, I just—”

Burt cut him off, dropping the hand holding the letter to his side. “I don’t even know how to begin to tell you that there is no way in hell you’re living with Blaine.”

Kurt had to stop himself from stamping his foot. Be rational. Be an adult about this, he told himself. “Dad. I’m an adult. I can live with him if I want.”

“Like hell you can. I’m the one paying for all this. You’ll do as I say.”

“So you’d rather I get assigned to room with some random person? Someone who may or may not be comfortable with the idea of living with a gay guy?” Kurt’s hands balled into fists. He was not going to give this up without a fight. “And what about Blaine? You think we’d both be so lucky as to get placed with accepting roommates? You watch the news, Dad. You’ve said yourself, there’s bad people out there.”

Kurt’s expression was dark, furrowed; he was angry that he and Blaine had to worry about things like this. Thank god we have each other, Kurt thought gratefully. Who knows what kind of situations they’d find themselves in otherwise.

Burt stared at him dully, quietly. Then he exhaled loudly. “Sit down,” he said. So they both sat: Burt in his chair, shoulders slumped imperceptibly; Kurt on the couch, spine stiffened and ready for battle.

“Look,” Burt started. “I get all that. And I agree with you—” he held up a finger “—to a point. But, living together.” He sighed again and shook his head. “That’s a big deal, Kurt. That’s a big deal for you guys, and it’s big deal that you didn’t say anything to me.”

“I’m sorry.” Kurt let his posture sink a little as guilt washed over him. “I just…didn’t know how to bring it up. I wasn’t purposefully keeping it from you.”

“Well, now it’s been brought up. So we’re gonna talk about it.”

“Okay,” Kurt said, grudgingly accepting the fact that this conversation was happening here, now. When his father didn’t speak, he shrugged. “I guess I’ve said my piece. But also…” he trailed off again as he thought of Blaine, his Blaine, and the sweet, domestic dreams they’d started building together. “I love Blaine. I want to be with him as much as I can. I want to take this step with him.”

Burt nodded in acknowledgement. “When did you decide you were gonna do this?”

Kurt closed his eyes, willing his father not to get angry at his words. “Last summer. After I decided to apply to NYU.”

His father barked out an irritated laugh. “So, right from the beginning. Is that why you wanted to go to NYU? So you could live together?”

“No! No, not at all. I wanted to go to NYU because of the interdisciplinary program. I promise, it was not because Blaine wanted to go there.” Kurt shook his head vigorously for emphasis. “Once I decided to apply, Blaine asked me if I’d want to live with him if we both went there.”

“So he’s the one who asked you.”

“Yes.” Kurt thought back to their conversation on that hot, sticky night in July: how shocked he’d been when Blaine had asked; how he’d agreed immediately, although he wasn’t quite sure what they were getting themselves into; how it had felt so right in the days and weeks and months afterward, even if it was still a little scary. They hadn’t told anyone, actually; even as they chattered endlessly about New York with friends and family, they’d held this one plan, this one special, sacred dream, close to them, only speaking about it when they were together, alone.

Burt watched the dreamy expression blossom over Kurt’s face; his eyes softening and his lips curving up in a little smile. Burt cleared his throat, snapping Kurt back to reality.

“Now, I really don’t wanna ask, because I respect your privacy, but this situation begs the question…” Burt trailed off, but he forced himself to continue, even though, Christ, this is worse than the sex talk. He’d had time to prepare, to pump himself up for that one. This conversation had just happened, without warning; he’d simply been checking the dining room table for a note from Carole about dinner plans, and now here he was, asking his son if he was having sex. “I’m assuming if you’re living together that you two are…” He let the half-question hang in the air. Kurt’s eyes grew huge and round.

“Oh my god, Dad. Really?” But his father held a firm gaze, and Kurt knew no topic was off-limits if he wanted this discussion to end in his favor. He swallowed hard and looked at the wall, the table lamp, anywhere but his father. “Yeah. We’re…yeah.”

“Oh. Okay.” It was too hot in there. Burt reached up and took off his cap, idly scratching his bald head.

Kurt dared to sneak a glance at his father’s face. He couldn’t quite read the unfamiliar expression there: he looked wretched, dazed, resigned. Kurt supposed it was a special look, reserved for parents who have just learned their children are sexually active.

Kurt sighed loudly, wanting desperately to break the awkwardness between them. “Honestly, Dad, do you think if we live together we’re going to fail out of college because we’re too busy having sex?”

Burt’s face turned beet red. He bowed his head, just for a moment, to collect himself. “Kurt,” he started, making sure his voice still worked okay. “I just wanna make sure you’re making the right decision for you. I know it probably sounds great right now, but living together isn’t all fun and games. It’s hard work. That’s what I’m worried you’ll be distracted by, not…” he absently waved his hand into the empty space of the living room. “…you know.”

Kurt’s brow creased with confusion. “You’re worried I’ll be distracted by what, exactly? I don’t know what you mean.”

No, Burt definitely was not prepared to have this conversation tonight, or any night for at least ten more years. He twisted his cap in his hands, desperately searching for the right words that would somehow make an eighteen-year-old understand the complicated nature of cohabitation. “It’s not easy, Kurt. I mean, Carole and I. We’re a lot older than you and Blaine. We’re married. And we still have to work at it, every single day. It’s not all about picking out furniture and making dinner together and sleeping together. That kind of stuff will get old fast. Trust me.”

Burt chuckled as he thought of the countless silly, inconsequential arguments he and Carole had fought through since getting married. “There’s so much stupid shit, like, ‘Why didn’t you vacuum?’ or, ‘I can’t believe you bought tickets to that football game without telling me first!’ Before you know it, you’ll be pissed off because he snores or he never puts his shoes away in the closet. And you’ll let that kinda stuff blow up into something that comes between you, if you’re not careful.”

“Okay,” Kurt said, his voice ripe with sarcasm. “I’ll let Blaine know he always has to put his shoes away, lest we have a horrible breakup over it.”

Burt grunted. “I’m being serious here, Kurt.” He suddenly had an idea. “What’s something that annoys you about Blaine? A habit or a shortcoming or something. And don’t say ‘nothing,’ ‘cause I know that’s not true.”

Kurt frowned. He is completely irresponsible when he gets drunk didn’t seem like the appropriate thing to mention right now. “He can’t cook,” Kurt finally said, then laughed. “At all. His mother takes care of everything for him and his family. The only thing he can make is pasta.”

“So what are you gonna do for dinner every night?”

“Well, we’ll probably eat at the cafeteria, since that’s part of our room and board.”

“But not every night, right? You like to cook. Will you get upset if he never helps out?”

Kurt had never thought about it. “No. I mean, I don’t know. I don’t think so?”

Burt looked at him pointedly. “Just…make sure you talk about stuff like this now, okay? Don’t leave it until you’re arguing about it. Because that’s what’ll happen.”

“All right.” Kurt’s expression was wry, but hopeful. “Any other sage advice, since it appears you may be preparing to let me embark on this cohabiting endeavor?”

“Yeah. I do.” Burt still had a long way to go before he’d be comfortable with the idea of Kurt sharing an address with another boy. But damn if he wasn’t right: Burt would worry a lot less knowing Blaine was there, and that they were facing the world – big, sometimes scary, often unfair – together. For now, Burt was glad he could impart this knowledge to his son; these critical words of wisdom he’d never heard his own parents speak.

“You should think about what you’re gonna do when you’re pissed off and need to be alone.” Burt held up a hand, stopping the protest that started to form on Kurt’s lips. “I know you, Kurt, and sometimes you just need to be alone for awhile. Don’t even try to tell me that’s not the case. You can’t ever tell him to go away, and you can’t ever resent him for being there, because it’s his place, too. You have to weigh each other’s needs equally.”

Kurt’s gaze was fixed on his hands, folded tightly in his lap. “Duly noted,” he muttered.

Burt pressed on, his thoughts and words flowing more easily now. “Don’t depend on him to be your everything. When you live together, it’s easy to think you have a built-in companion, someone who’ll always be there to have dinner with and do things with. But make sure you make new friends. That’s important. You need to have a network aside from Blaine. There’ll inevitably be things you can’t talk about with him. The same goes for him. Let him make new friends, too, and don’t get mad if he chooses to do things with them sometimes instead of you.”

“We already do that,” Kurt pointed out. “We spend time with our own friends all the time. Blaine hangs out with the Warbler guys, and I’m always with Rachel or Mercedes.”

“But you guys already had those friends before you started dating each other. Sometimes it’s harder to make new friends once you’re in a relationship.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

Burt gestured at Kurt with his cap. “Say you meet some new people and they invite you to go out on a Friday night. What do you do?”

“I’d go out with them.”

“What if it was to a bar, or a club, or somewhere like that? You think Blaine would be okay with you doing that?”

“I think so. Or maybe I could bring him with me.”

“But then would you spend the whole night with him, instead of getting to know your new friends?”

Kurt shrugged. “We could talk to my new friends together.”

“You’re not always gonna want to hang around the same people, Kurt. And that’s okay. Just…think about it, and talk to each other about it, is all I’m saying.”

“Sure.” Kurt looked at his father expectantly. “Is that all?”

“Of course not.” Burt smiled, and Kurt rolled his eyes. “I haven’t even gotten to the most important part yet.”

“And what in the world could that be?”

Burt paused, waiting for Kurt’s gaze to return to his own. “Don’t take each other for granted. Keep dating. Make sure you still go out, have fun. Don’t stop doing all the things you do now just because you live together.”

“That directly contradicts what you just told me about making new friends and going out with them instead of Blaine.”

Burt sighed. “Don’t be a smartass, Kurt. You know what I mean. Find a balance. It’s just…very easy to get caught up with all the other things going on in your life, and to let things between you slip. That spark you have…it’s special, but it can fade. You have to work hard every single day to sustain it.”

We’re eighteen-year-old guys. There’s no danger of our spark fading anytime soon, Kurt thought, nearly allowing the witty retort to spill from his open mouth. But he pressed his lips together just in time, even though he really, really wanted to say it, just to see his father’s reaction.

“Listen,” Burt continued. “I know you guys are head over heels for each other, and I know you’ve both been through a lot. The two of you are exceptionally mature for kids your age. But living together…it tests even the best of us.”

Kurt bobbed his head up and down in agreement. “I get it now, Dad. I want to make it work. I’ll do anything. I know we can do it. We’ll probably still argue sometimes, but it’s worth it to be together.”

Burt felt his thoughts melt into something gentler, more affectionate, as he looked into Kurt’s eyes, brimming with optimism. “Now, I can’t say I’m happy with your arrangement, exactly, but I trust that you’ll take what I’ve said into consideration?” Kurt nodded again in response. “And remember,” he added sternly. “Your classes and your schoolwork are the most important thing. If I find out your grades are slipping—”

“They’re not going to. You know how excited I am about my program.”

“I know.”

Kurt sat there quietly for a moment, mulling over his father’s words in his head. “I can call you though, right? To talk? If I need someone to talk to about any of this stuff.”

Burt smiled. Somehow, it seemed, they’d made it through another important talk relatively unscathed; maybe even a little better than they were before. “You know you can always call me, Kurt. I’d be happy to listen and help.”

“Thanks, Dad.” Kurt returned his father’s warm smile. He started to get up from the couch, snapping up the roommate letter from the coffee table where Burt had dropped it.

“Hey. Where are you going?” Burt asked as Kurt stood up.

“I’m going to go call Blaine.” He paused, his smile turning just the slightest bit sinful. “I need to start making sure we’re keeping the spark alive, you know?” He looked at his father and wiggled his eyebrows.

Burt groaned, and Kurt couldn’t help but burst out laughing. He could get used to this funny new feeling: the satisfaction of making his father utterly mortified about his love life. Kurt felt like he’d crossed a little bridge into adulthood tonight: uncharted, but familiar at the same time, because his father – this gruff, honest, wonderful man – was here, just the same as ever.

Kurt leaned down and pressed a kiss to Burt’s cheek. “I love you, Dad.”

Then he bolted upstairs, hurriedly tapping out Blaine’s number on his phone along the way, because, Oh my god…