They ended up eating lunch out. Even then, only the growl of their stomachs and the hardness of the wood against their backs made them get up. They traded kisses and touches as they dressed, Kurt pulling from the clothes he kept on one side of Blaine's closet, running the mousse he left under the sink through his hair and using his toothbrush, putting it back next to Blaine's. They stayed nearly entwined the entire time, touches almost reverent, as if neither was sure this wasn't a dream. Blaine sighed with relief each time their skin met. It wasn't a dream. Kurt was there and his.

The three words were back, pressing at the back of his throat, itching across his tongue, demanding to be said. But he swallowed them down. He needed to figure out how to tell Kurt that and about his family. Because there was no question in his mind that he loved that man. But his family was a definite, inescapable obstacle.

Not today. Not tonight. First declarations of monogamy and love did not belong on the same night. He could wait and show his love instead of saying it. He could do that to keep Kurt by his side.

Finally they made it out the door, picking up Thai to share and walking to a park midway between their apartments. The air was crisp, the sky a magnificent blue that appeared rarely and generally the day before a storm.

They shared a bench, thighs pressed together, a steady conversation and the container of pad thai going between them, comments about passing outfits and children. They fed each other bites, the taste of Thai in the other's mouth not discouraging any kisses.

If Blaine had passed himself and Kurt in the park, he would have gagged at the sweetness and averted his eyes at the intimacy.

Even a few hours in, it was nice to be someone's.

They finished their late lunch and sat for a while on the bench. It was nearing two so they had a while to just sit and enjoy. Despite the chill of the air, the sun was warm on his face as he let his head loll onto Kurt's shoulder. The words were back in his throat and this was getting really annoying. Soon, he promised himself. He will tell Kurt soon. And then he will tell Cooper that he thinks Kurt is it (which he does). And then he'll tell Kurt everything.

And he will not think about what Kurt's reaction will be.

Somehow, when they aren't looking, time passes and it's nearing four in the afternoon.

A fact of which Blaine is apprised when his pillow pulled out his phone, shrieked, and jumped up. Blaine scrambled to not fall onto the bench where Kurt had been.

"What?"

"Get up get up get up!" Kurt squeaked at Blaine, tugging on his arm.

"Kurt." Blaine stood as directed, stilling Kurt's movements with hands to his shoulders.

And then he started moving again, voice still high as he explained. "Blaine. It's nearly four. I am meeting your family in 3 hours. It takes an hour to get anywhere in this cursed city. We both need to get ready, so we have to go to each other's apartments and still make it on time."

"Do you want to split up and meet back at my place?"

Blushing, Kurt bit his lip and looked down. "I'm not ready to say goodbye to you yet. Even for a little while," he whispered, quavering.

And with that, Blaine could feel himself falling a little more in love with that man. "Kurt." He could feel his voice start to crack and swallowed before continuing. "Your place and then mine? I can shower at your place while you get ready and then we can go back to mine and I'll get dressed."

"I l…" Kurt's Adam's apple bobbed and he tried again. "You're amazing. We'll do that." Blaine tugged him in for a light kiss before offering his arm. "Lead on, good sir."

The walk wasn't very long but was enjoyable, their easy banter picking back up after their emotional moment in the park. Somewhere during the walk, Kurt's hand slipped down his forearm, tangling their fingers together.

Kurt's apartment looked the same as it always did when Kurt opened the door and motioned Blaine inside. "Since we're short on time, we probably shouldn't shower together."

"That's fine." Blaine kept his voice low and sultry, taking Kurt's hips and pulling them closer together. "I want surviving-meeting-the-parents sex later."

"Mmmm," Kurt moaned as Blaine nuzzled against his neck, "That will definitely make it worth the wait. So..." Kurt stepped back, tapping Blaine's chest, "make yourself at home and the shower is yours as soon as I'm out."

After removing his shoes and coat by the door, Blaine wandered into Kurt's bedroom to collapse on the bed and wait. From inside the bathroom, the door cracked open, Kurt's angelic voice floating in over the steam, high and beautiful.

Blaine couldn't resist humming along with the chorus, smiling at the ceiling when Kurt changed the appropriate pronouns.

Kurt switched songs seamlessly, even humming along to an instrumental piece, and Blaine lounged on his now familiar bed, basked and waited for his turn. He determinedly refused to think about the future past his turn in the bathroom. He would not think about how nervous he was about bringing Kurt to dinner. This wasn't an area he had experience in.

Kurt's head peeked out a minute after the shower switched off. "I've got to shave, but you're welcome to the shower." He rolled himself off the bed, stripping off the first two of his too many layers and folding them neatly on Kurt's bed, padding to the open bathroom door.

Kurt's skin was warm and still flushed under Blaine's lips when he kissed his shoulder. "Don't do that," Kurt scolded without heat, "I'd rather not nick myself today."

"Good plan." Blaine took off his remaining clothes and clambered into the shower, the water still warm from Kurt's.

"What exactly should I expect tonight?" Kurt asked from the other side of the curtain.

"Umm…Possibly the Spanish Inquisition. Possibly a few bland questions. Probably the Spanish Inquisition."

"But Blaine…" Kurt was giggling, loudly.

"Yes, Kurt?"

"No one—no one expects—the Inquisition." Blaine opened the shower curtain a crack, peering through to see Kurt doubled over the sink, face still streaked with shaving cream, laughing silently, breaths gasping as he tried to regain control.

"You okay over there?"

A gasped, pained "yeah" was his response, so Blaine went back to his shower, rinsing out the shampoo and massaging in conditioner.

The novelty of smelling like Kurt, if even only for a few hours? Totally hadn't worn off yet. And he thought Kurt might have the same feeling when they stayed over at Blaine's.

He could hear Kurt humming again as he brushed his teeth and started his rounds of moisturizers.

Clean and rinsed off (the water was getting cool, so it was a good time to exit the shower), Blaine shut the water off and stepped out, wrapping the towel Kurt handed him and drying off. Space was a little tight for two grown men moving around and using their personal space, but they managed.

Kurt hung his towel up and walked naked back into his bedroom, round globes of his ass begging to be bitten. "Close your mouth, you can tap my ass later." Blaine closed his mouth obediently and went back to drying off.

A few minutes later, his own teeth brushed and scruff shaven off (his father preferred that he kept himself clean-shaven. So even though Kurt enjoyed the scruff, it had to come off), Blaine hung up his own towel and went back into the bedroom.

He bumped his hip into Kurt's where he stood in front of the dresser, apparently debating the qualities of one undershirt over another. "You'll look stunning in either. And anyway, no one will see it except me later. I'm not going to turn you away based on undershirt selection."

"You're my boyfriend. You're supposed to say those things. But this one," he gestured to the one in his left hand, "might show through the shirt I was planning on wearing. The other isn't as comfortable, but it wouldn't show."

"I think you are the only person I know to be so picky about his undershirts. No," he stopped Kurt's protests, "I think it's adorable, not annoying. Wear the one in your left hand. And a vest. Then it won't show through the shirt and you'll be comfy."

Kurt smiled at him, then noticed the lack of clothes and the time on the clock behind Blaine. "Put on clothes! It's later than I thought and neither of us are close to being ready."

Blaine just nodded and pushed Kurt towards his closet. "Get dressed, dear. We're fine on time."

Hand on a pair of his boxer briefs, Blaine stills, then grabs one of Kurt's instead. They're plainer than his and the fit might be a little off, but the look on Kurt's face will be more than worth it.

Clad in the underwear that fit better than he thought it would and an undershirt of his he had pulled from his drawer, Blaine joined Kurt in front of the closet to find an outfit to get him back to his apartment.

"Are you wearing?" Kurt asked, glancing down at Blaine's attire.

"Your underwear? Yup."

Kurt rolled his eyes and continued dressing, shrugging into his vest (a dark teal that looked magnificent against the paleness of his shirt and brought out the green in his eyes). He buttoned it, eyes never leaving Blaine's. Blaine's eyes in turn seemed glued to the long fingers expertly doing up the tiny buttons without looking. The hand, so strong and sure ran down his chest, teasing, catching lightly on those buttons, the other rummaging in the closet.

He could feel his breath catch in his throat. They didn't really need to go to that stupid, stressful dinner, did they?

Kurt cleared his throat, pushing clothes into Blaine's arms. "You can stare all you want later, I promise. But you have to get dressed now. No," Kurt grabbed Blaine's hands and dropped the clothes into them, "that look may work on other people. It's time to get dressed now."

The smack of Kurt's palm on his ass as he went into the bathroom made him jump. "Not fair."

"Hey," Kurt carefully dried off the counter before leaning in closer to futz with his hair, meeting Blaine's eyes in the mirror before responding, "You started it when you put on those."

"Fine. But tell me you don't like them." Blaine posed ridiculously, sticking his ass out like a pin-up girl.

"Mmm. No. I definitely like them. Now get dressed. Time crunch, remember?"

Kurt turned back to his hair and Blaine, now without an audience to pose for, did as instructed. Clothed, he flopped back onto the bed, kicking his feet and humming as he waited for Kurt.

"Is your family going to like me?" Kurt had finished with his hair and looked stunning—a contrast to the insecurity playing across his face and the arms wrapped around his chest. "I haven't done this in a while. Like…six years. And it didn't end too well. I thought you should know that before we went through with this."

Before Kurt had finished speaking Blaine was standing and wrapping Kurt in his arms. "My family is going to love you. You are an amazing person, strong and funny and witty and smart and caring. Most of all, you make me happy. I know they aren't the easiest to get along with sometimes, but they only want what they think is the best for me." The words were back, vying for release at the back of his throat. "And once they see that you are the best for me, they'll cool off."

Blaine pulled back to look at Kurt's face, both men fighting back tears again. "Stop making me cry. I don't want to be blotchy and gross when I meet your family."

"Even blotchy and gross I still think you're beautiful." Kurt beamed at him, grabbing his face and kissing him.

"I think you're beautiful too. Okay. Off to your place and then to the wolves. I mean your family."

"You don't have anything to worry about," Blaine said as he and Kurt helped each other into their jackets, "I think you could take Cooper."

"Really?" Kurt's eyebrow was up, incredulous.

"I do. You two may be snarky, but you'd get him into a corner and beat him with his own reasoning." I'll just have to disarm Cooper before you two start.

Kurt pulled him forward by his belt loops and kissed his temple lightly. "Let's get going, then."

"I'll let you dress me." Blaine had stubbornly only let Kurt dress him a few times, claiming to want to retain his own style, which Kurt laughed at.

"Even better." Their hands, entwined, only separated for the pair to tie on shoes and Kurt to lock his door and tuck his keys away.

The walk back to Blaine's apartment is filled with discussions of what their plans for the upcoming week were. Kurt would need to be finishing a major project for work and might not be able to stay at Blaine's as many nights. And Blaine would possibly be dealing with problems of his own. They decided definitely next Friday night—Blaine would still have dinner with his family (maybe with Kurt again) and then they would go to Blaine's apartment. If Blaine was late, he would leave a spare key for Kurt.

What he didn't say was that he might have had made Kurt his own key.

Just in case they figured out where they stood.

Because tempting heartbreak just seemed to come easily to him.

Several times during their walk, Blaine felt an odd prickling on the back of his neck. As if someone was following them. He tried to keep his concern off his face, forcing himself to keep the same pace.

Kurt obviously felt something was off too. He surveyed the people around him, craning his neck a few times to look behind them. "Do you feel like…?"

"Yes. Almost at my place. We can talk there." He was going to murder his brother if the tail was his. Or maybe castrate him.

The sensation that they were being watched faded, leaving both men on edge as they trotted up the stairs to Blaine's entryway.

"I wasn't imagining that, was I?" Kurt led the way into Blaine's bedroom, heading straight for his closet.

"Feeling like you were being watched? You weren't imagining it." Blaine frowned as he sat on the bed. Part of him hoped it was Cooper. If it wasn't, they had a serious problem.

"I mean…it is New York, and it isn't the first time that I've felt that on my way here."

Blaine's heart stopped. He would need to talk with his brother. This was on the verge of being very, very serious.

"That's…not good. I wonder who is so interested in you. Don't take it personally," Blaine swallowed and stood up, standing next to Kurt and holding him close, "but I hope that you are imagining it."

"Blaine, I really hope I am too." Blaine kissed Kurt's neck, careful to leave the perfectly coiffed hair undisturbed.

Blaine turned away to turn on music—the situation had been tense enough before the eerie feelings on the walk to Blaine's. Music would help.

Stripped to his—Kurt's—underwear, Blaine danced around the room, belting along to Dancing Queen. Kurt looked up from Blaine's closet every few bars with a smile and a shake of his head. Chosen outfit laid out neatly on the bed, warm hands that fit perfectly into the curve of his bare waist guided Blaine to them.

Not stopping his dancing (how could anyone stand still when Roxy music was playing?) Blaine dressed. He shimmied into his pants, hips wiggling to the beat, drawing a laugh from Kurt, seated on the bed.

"What?" Blaine twirled as he tugged on his undershirt, amazed that he didn't fall over.

"I am dating a sixteen year old."

"Is something wrong with that? Or are you saying you don't like my music?" Blaine wasn't concerned—he had done this before and knew Kurt was only teasing. "Or is this a veiled compliment about my recovery time, since you, old man, need longer?"

"Just because you're a year younger than me…" Kurt pouted at him, slumping his shoulders exaggeratedly.

Blaine danced over to stand between his legs and grabbed Kurt's arms, pulling him as if they were dancing together. Kurt tugged free and wrapped his arms around Blaine's hips and nuzzled briefly against the soft part of his lower stomach. The temptation to run his fingers through Kurt's hair was countered by the knowledge that if he did he'd be sleeping on the couch (of his own apartment) that night. He contented himself with stroking the soft skin of Kurt's neck instead, drawing a purr from the other man.

With a soft sigh Blaine backed away from Kurt's embrace, laughing at the sad sigh that fell from Kurt's mouth. "You're the one hell-bent on getting there on time, so don't pout at me."

He finished dressing quickly and went into the bathroom to make sure his hair was still behaving and pee while Kurt dotted on cologne (Blaine's, but he thought Kurt wore it better) and picked out a bowtie. He was still deciding when Blaine returned and collapsed on the bed to put on his shoes.

"Which one?" Kurt turned to him and held up two options.

"The one in your…left hand." Kurt nodded and returned the other. Hands in his prompted Blaine to stand and then (unprompted) dance to the music still playing.

"Hold still, unless you want to have a lopsided bow," Kurt scolded.

"We both know it would bug you more than it would me." But he stilled, only his hips still moving as practiced fingers danced at his throat, tying a perfect bow, and lingered as they slid down his chest to smooth away imaginary wrinkles. The hand that caught his was shaking slightly. "Kurt?" Blaine asked, worried.

"I'm okay." He didn't look too convinced of his words. He could see Kurt force himself to straighten and mask the apprehension in his eyes and posture. Only the occasional slight tremor and death grip of his hand in Blaine's betrayed him, as if he was pleading with Blaine to please not let go.

He let go of Kurt's hand exactly twice: once to put his wallet in his bag and his phone in his pocket, once to lock the door behind them and put his keys in their designated spot.

Blaine did not let himself worry about the impending dinner on their trip to the Anderson-Genovese headquarters. He kept the conversation light, sticking to subject he knew Kurt liked and picking little arguments to draw Kurt back from behind his shell.

When they were a block away, Kurt tensed up again, as if he knew they were almost there. Blaine steered them out of the center of the sidewalk, turning to face Kurt. "It's going to be alright, Kurt. I'm not going to lie and say you won't get the third degree, but I know that you can do this. They only want the best for me. And once they see that the best for me is you, they'll cool off. I promise."

Kurt smiled weakly and pulled Blaine close, rubbing his nose into Blaine's neck and sighing softly as he soothed small circles into his back. After a minute, Kurt pulled away, his smile more relaxed that time.

"Will doing this make you happy?" he asked, hand coming up to cup Blaine's cheek.

Blaine leaned into the touch. "Yes. You make me happier than I ever remember being, and my family is important to me. I want to show them that."

He let his eyes flutter shut as Kurt leaned in and brushed their lips together, chaste and achingly sweet.

When Kurt finally pulled away, a light blush tinting his cheeks, he smiled confidently at Blaine. "I am as ready as I will ever be. Shall we?"

Blaine leaned in and kissed Kurt's cheek before offering his arm. "Let's go meet my family."

The eerie feeling that they were being watched came back as they approached the house, but Blaine brushed it off as oversensitivity to the presence of security cameras.

The door of the house, plain considering the luxury inside, opened for them as they approached. Blaine nodded to Finn, who was playing doorman that night.

His arm was pulled backwards as Kurt froze in the entry hall and stared around him. Pausing for Kurt to drink in the splendor, Blaine stepped back, tilting his ear up at Kurt's insistence.

"Why didn't you tell me that you're rich? And that you live here?" Kurt hissed in his ear.

"I'm not rich. My family is," Blaine responded. "And…I grew up on the fourth floor, yes." He stepped back to hang up their jackets and his bag.

Whatever Kurt was going to say was interrupted by a loud voice booming from the second floor landing. "BLAINEY AND KURTSIE YOU MADE IT!"

"Hello, Cooper. You saw us earlier today. We said we would come. And so we have." Kurt leveled his stare at Cooper trotting down the stairs.

"True. But can't I show a little excitement for seeing my little bro and his squeeze at the all-important family dinner? That's big."

"And you, Cooper, insisted upon it."

"Doesn't mean it's not momentous." Cooper pointed and waved them into the sitting room to wait for Father to come down from his offices. "Can I offer either of you a drink? We have—"

"Just water for me." Kurt interrupted what would have been a long list.

"Um. Water as well." Somehow, being sober for this seemed like the best option if he couldn't be wasted.

Cooper disappeared to get their drinks, leaving Kurt and Blaine to settle themselves on the couch, close enough that their thighs touched. Blaine rubbed Kurt's knee encouragingly as Cooper reappeared with drinks in hand.

"One for Blainey. One for Kurtsie." He set his own glass down on the coffee table and flopped into a chair. "Father should be down in a few minutes, so the interrogation can wait until then." Kurt shot Blaine a look, and really, Blaine couldn't blame him. At least his brother was blunt? "Until then, how about them Yankees?"

Thankfully, conversation quickly moved away from baseball (something Blaine had never gotten into and Kurt seemed bored with) to movies of all things. Cooper and Kurt were discussing the newest Disney movie, featuring the company's first ever gay prince and his journey to self-acceptance and the approval of his father. Kurt thought it was a good first step. Cooper thought it was too small of a step, but he was glad it happened.

They had turned to Blaine for his opinion, but he was spared by a throat clearing in the doorway. The Anderson brothers jumped to their feet. Kurt was slower to follow, and Blaine could feel his eyes on him, wondering about their behavior. His father turned sharply on his heel and walked out, his sons (and Kurt) dutifully following him into the dining room.

The table was too long for three people, so they sat at one end, Blaine's family across from himself and Kurt. The chef's assistant came in as they sat, bringing the wine chosen for the meal, quickly followed by the first course (after a nod from his father).

"So, Kurt," his father's tone was cool and only mildly inquisitive, "tell us about yourself."

Next to him, Kurt straightened, cleared his throat, and began talking. He finished the basics as the table finished the first course. The first round of plates was swept away and their places promptly filled with the next course.

And then the inquisition started: major and minor in college, details about his job, personal goals and aspirations, dreams when he was little. When Kurt's face betrayed any hint of discomfort at a question, there were follow up questions honing in on that area.

If there could be rape by questions, this would probably come close. Blaine felt violated on Kurt's behalf, and only his brother's subtle head shakes made him swallow the protests rising like bile in the back of his throat.

After one particularly offensive question, the cry of protest fell from his mouth before he could stifle it. His father ignored him, waiting for Kurt's answer in-between bites of their dinner. Cooper's eyes flew to his and a warm hand descended to his knee. Kurt squeezed lightly, reassuring, and answered the question.

When his father seemed satisfied, Cooper took over, returning their conversation to the newest Disney movie as they finished the last bites of their dinner and wine. The plates were again whisked away and dessert and coffee brought back. Blaine interjected a few times, but spent the final course watching his father watch Kurt, trying to decipher the blank mask.

He failed, miserably.

On the bright side, his boyfriend and his brother got along fabulously, nearly as well as he and Kurt did. Which wasn't altogether surprising—after the inquisition was done, Cooper and Kurt relaxed considerably. And when they were both fed and happy after the wine, they kept the bickering to a lighthearted minimum.

"Blaine, could I speak to you in the lounge?" His father's voice cut through his musings.

He threw a glance at Kurt, who looked back and rubbed his knee before nodding that he would be okay talking to Cooper. "Yes, sir."

As requested, he followed his father into the lounge, sitting on the edge of the chair across from him. "Are you serious about this man?" His father's voice was the same nearly-disinterested calm from earlier.

"I am, sir. If I ever marry, it'll be to Kurt."

"You have known him…?"

"Nearly four months, sir." Blaine clasped his hands together to conceal the shaking. He didn't want to have to choose between his family and Kurt.

"Do you love him?"

Part of him wanted to find the nearest roof- or hilltop and scream YES until his voice was hoarse and everyone in the surrounding boroughs knew.

But that would be inappropriate behavior for an Anderson-Genovese.

"Yes."

"And…?" His father waited for the rest of his answer.

"I have not yet told him. Today was the first day we labeled ourselves as being in an official relationship. I considered it to be too much emotion for one day. And I needed to talk to you and Cooper about how much to tell him. Because I cannot justify emotionally tying ourselves together, if he returns the sentiment, without his being fully informed. Of course I…"

"Blaine." His father interrupted his rambling and he flushed and looked down at hands, white knuckled as they clutched at the other.

"Sorry, sir." He knew his voice sounded meek and he hated it. The one time he needed to be in control and an adult in his family's eyes, and he failed.

"Use your discretion, but you are free to tell him what you feel you need to, as long as you are sure that he will not talk."

"No, sir. I don't think he will." Blaine couldn't afford to be sure of much, but he was ninety percent sure Kurt would not tell anyone (that last ten percent held back in the vain effort he could hold anything back from that man).

"Good. Blaine," he looked up at his father, the mask gone and leaving kind eyes he rarely got to see in its place, "I know I just met him, but I can tell he makes you happy. I know that you didn't choose this life, but you have done well in it nonetheless. If you make each other happy, then you have my blessing."

Wetness pricked the corners of his eyes. "Dad…" His voice trailed and broke. His father gave him a moment to collect himself. "Thank you."

"When you're ready, we can go back in there." Blaine nodded and dried his eyes, praying to whatever deity listening that his eyes weren't puffy and red.

Calmed down as much as he would manage—a blessing? He had been expecting a grudging acceptance of something his father didn't think could be changed, not his blessing. He sought his father's eyes and nodded, not trusting his voice quite yet.

He rose when his father did, pausing when his father stopped in the hall, still out of sight of the dining room. He wasn't sure what to expect, but it was not his father pulling him tight and hugging him close. Moments of contact in the Anderson-Genovese household were rare. Hugs almost never happened.

He let himself be held by his dad for a long moment, taking comfort he didn't know he needed.

They separated at the same time. Blaine thought he might have seen his father blink away tears, but he couldn't be sure. He followed again as he was led back into the dining room.

Cooper had moved to Blaine's seat and Kurt's eyes were bright and Cooper's lips tight as they both turned towards the doorway.

"Everything good in here?"

"Yup. We were just discussing Moulin Rouge." Something about the pair made Blaine suspicious, but he didn't press Cooper's explanation.

"Good. If you boys would excuse me, I have some last minute things to clear up." He nodded to each of his sons, but stepped closer to Kurt, hand extended.

The room froze. The shock made Blaine's heartbeat race, thudding loudly in his ears. Kurt moved first. Blaine watched his father and boyfriend shake hands with a "Pleasure to meet you."

Sensing perhaps that Blaine needed to talk to his brother, Kurt excused himself to the bathroom.

"Did you set a tail on Kurt?"

"Right to the point, aren't we Blainey? No 'thank you for forcing us to come to dinner so we can get approval'?"

"Yes, thanks, whatever, Cooper. Did you set a tail on Kurt?"

"Why do you ask?"

"We were followed earlier today. We both felt like we were being watched. And Kurt mentioned having felt that before. And yes, before you ask, this was different from being a normal New Yorker subject to people watching. I know what a tail feels like. And Kurt isn't stupid, as you may have figured."

"In answer to your question"—Cooper leaned against the table, which would have gotten him scolding had their parents been in the room—"Yes. I had set a tail on Kurt. I told them to follow with their discretion. I can ask them later if it would make you feel better, but I won't know until tomorrow."

"Good. Can you…?"

"Call it off? I can change it to protection if you would like. But I don't think I can call it off."

"I…okay. I understand. And if it wasn't our guys tonight, I'd feel better if he was protected." Blaine looked down, hands twisting together before he gave in and wrapped his arms around himself. He was going to do it. He had done it. Kurt was officially a target if anyone wanted to hurt him, hurt the family.

"Blaine, look at me." Cooper had hopped off the table to stand closer to him. Fingers under his chin forced his head up to look at his brother. "I know you're scared for Kurt, for the family, for the slightest possibility for putting us into danger. But danger is part of our lives. It always has been and it always will be. But having someone to share it with? That makes the danger not so bad. Someone who will make you want to come home, to put that hellishly uncomfortable Kevlar on and make it through the day. And that will be worth the danger."

"I…" He hung his head again. He wanted that with Kurt. He hadn't known he did but now he couldn't imagine a life without him in it.

"You're going to need to talk to him."

"I am."

"But not tonight. As your brother, I am saying you deserve tonight as a couple. Ease him into it and give him time to think and ask questions. Father gave you leave to tell him what was necessary."

"And I'm going to need a ring. We're not at the tattoo stage yet, if we ever will be."

"I will get one made. It should be ready by next week."

"Then I'll tell him then."

"Good. I hear your boy in the hall." Kurt appeared seconds later, leaning against the frame and letting the brothers continue their talk.

"Thanks, Coop." Blaine looked up at his brother. Nerves still twisted in his stomach, and he hoped that they would go away long enough for him to enjoy it.

The brothers separated and Kurt extended a hand to Cooper. "Thank you for the invitation..." The rest of his words became an "oof" as Coop pulled him in for a tight hug. He whispered something in Kurt's ear that Blaine couldn't hear. Kurt nodded and hugged back.

Cooper relinquished his hold on Kurt and Blaine took his place, stepping into the circle of his brother's arms. He turned his head and swallowed the lump forming in his throat. "Love you, Coop."

Cooper squeezed him tighter and leaned closer. "Love you too, B."