“So this is the little guy that Carole wont stop pestering me about huh?” Burt exclaims as Jester patters his way into the living room, and over to Burt sitting on the couch with a quiet mewl in greeting. Burt leans down and tentatively rubs between the cat's ears as he perches himself between Burt's feet, obviously unfazed by the new guest.

“Yep, this is Jester,” Blaine says as he comes from the kitchen with another beer for Burt, “I'm surprised Carole didn't try to pack him and take him back to Lima with her, she was quite taken with him.” Burt takes the bottle from Blaine with a smile and a nod and hands him his empty one in return.

“Thanks kid, I hope you didn't mind me just helping myself to one of these when I got here, travelling makes me quite parched and honestly I was surprised to find a decent bottle of beer in there-” There's a quiet scoff from over at the breakfast island, Blaine chooses to ignore it whilst Burt grins if not a little sheepishly and looks down at Jester who is now practically lying over his feet unashamedly.

Blaine takes the glass bottle over to the trash can in the kitchen and flips the lid using the metal foot pedal happily, “Oh no problem at all Burt, please do help yourself, anything you need at all, it's yours.” He glances over at Kurt who is balanced rather uncomfortably looking on the edge of a stool, like he's waiting to just get up and take off at any moment, a look on his face which indicates he's listening but trying not to.

Blaine resists the urge to shake his head at him. Kurt's dad is actually here, his dad who seems like a very nice man, a man who Kurt has spoken about so reverently, yet something has clearly went down between the two and they haven't spoken in years, and here Kurt is ignoring him, sulking in his kitchen whilst Blaine tries to play happy families with a guy he's just met. Blaine tries to nail him what he hopes to be a warning stare, which Kurt just gives to him straight back and twists around a little further on his stool. Blaine picks up his own bottle with a soft sigh and goes over to join Burt on the couch.

“Yeah, honestly I'm surprised that I haven't come home from work yet to find a cat sitting in my chair and clawing at my cushions, or a puppy chewing my slippers.” Burt says with a smile, obviously continuing the pet conversation from before, Blaine wonders if its just slight nervous talk, an easy topic to break the ice.

It's strange, Blaine feels awkward, because obviously the whole situation is awkward, but at the same time, it's not. It's literally only taken the amount of time needed for Blaine to fetch Burt a fresh drink to discover that Burt is actually very easygoing and calm, he's very friendly and polite, and somewhat cool, surprisingly for somebody who Kurt has chosen to cut out of his life and also somebody who has technically just made a breaking and entering offence, technically. He'd heard about Burt, many stories from Carole, Sam and Santana and even the time that Kurt had chosen to talk about him, he also never thought that anybody as lovely and kind as Carole would choose to be married to anybody less than lovely and kind themselves. He never truly thought that Burt was some big mean monster type, and honestly he's kind of glad to finally meet him, no matter how strange this all is.

“Jester's too lazy to do any naughty cat stuff like that.” Blaine supplies with a grin and nudges at the cat gently with his foot as he tries to untie Burt's shoe laces. “He's just a pest, and a definite people person, or people cat rather.”

Blaine thinks that he can hear Kurt quietly laughing muffled into his hand behind them, he can just picture his face, scrunched up and flushed, trying to face the other way. He catches a glimpse of Jester's flashy collar as he writhes around on the floor. “I'd uh, I'd offer for you to take Jester back with you, with an excellent recommendation, but I'm afraid that Kurt would be heart broken, I think he's grown a little attached.” Blaine tries, with the hope of including Kurt in to the conversation.

“I heard.” Burt says simply and then takes a long drink, and then another, effectively ending the conversation. This may be harder than Blaine thinks it's going to be, and he just doesn't think he has the energy or the patience for it tonight. He wonders how long Burt is planning on staying for, the bag out in the hall isn't that big, but then again the man doesn't really look like he's anything but a light traveller. What will Burt get up to when he and Kurt are working tomorrow, better yet why is he even here at all, especially if he's not going to make an effort with his own son, in his son's house.

Blaine peeks over his shoulder to see if Kurt looks like he's going to make any movement or attempt to join in the conversation, only to find him hunched over the countertop, arms folded, chin ducked down, eyes locked on to the countertop. “So Burt,” he turns back around, “how's work at the shop, busy?” Burt whistles lowly at something that's just happened on the TV and turns to Blaine with a smile.

“Yeah, it's going great kid, busy as always, but I've got a great team of guys working for me,” Blaine nods and smiles. “You like cars don't you, Carole said that you did some work on an old engine when you were younger or something.”

“Oh um yeah, it was just a silly thing me and my dad did, I haven't done anything like that since-”

“That's cool, I remember I always loved having Kurt in the shop with me, was always a great help.” Blaine smiles and tenses slightly at the mention of Kurt's name, it's slightly awkward, like they're talking about him as if he's not there, when in actual fact, he is, he's just pretending not to be. Burt has a slightly wistful smile on his lips as he leans back against the couch cushions and Jester hops up to lie down in the gap between him and Blaine. Blaine looks back over at Kurt to see if there's any reaction yet. Nope, nothing.

“Do you guys still wear the coveralls that Kurt designed, his mechanic range?”

“You bet kid, sure thing, wouldn't wear anything else, we stock and sell the whole range still like its going out of fashion-pun intended.” Blaine laughs and Burt chuckles lightly with him. He absolutely just cannot see what has happened that is so bad between these two, Burt just doesn't seem like the type to say anything mean or derogatory especially to his son. But then again Santana had said that Burt had tried to pull Kurt down from his pedestal a little bit and Kurt just hadn't liked it, maybe's it's all been over dramatised more than what it needed to be. At this moment in time it seems very likely.

He's just about to stand up and go and heave Kurt from his stool to encourage him to socialise when he looks over to find him gone, the stool vacant, and only then does he hear distant footsteps, obviously carrying Kurt away out in to the hall and up the stairs. Blaine opens his mouth, closes it, and then opens it again and tries to say something, but just doesn't know what. He turns back around to find Burt staring down into his bottle, his eyes far off and a small but sad smile on his lips.

“Um, I, uh-”

“Don't worry about it kid, not your problem, honestly I'm surprised that he lasted this long.” Something crumbles in Blaine's chest, at the sight and sound of Burt sounding so resigned, so sad. “I'm not stupid, I knew this would happen, but I knew if I tried to call first, he just wouldn't listen, believe me, this is the best way to start... fixing things... I guess.” Blaine nods, eyes wide and round and clear, like liquid toffee. Burt sighs, sips from his bottle and rubs at his face. “I don't know what you may or may not know about me, me and Kurt and our problems, but-”

Blaine nervously rubs a sweaty palm over his pants and clings to his almost empty bottle desperately in his other hand, his fingers curling tightly, his knuckles almost fading white. He's uncomfortable, this is, this has nothing to do with him and he does not want Burt to think that he knows more than he should, he cares yes, and will listen if he's asked to listen, happily, but it's important that he's not seen as an unwanted or nosy party.

“Honestly Burt, you do not have to explain or justify anything to me, seriously, its fine, I honestly don't know anything about you or what happened with Kurt, other than you have been nothing but a good father to him, a hell of a lot better than others and I think he knows that, I know that he knows that.” Burt offers a small sorrowful smile that squeezes at Blaine's chest and nods, obviously placated with Blaine's small piece.

“Thank you Blaine I appreciate that.” Blaine shifts in his seat, and offers a small smile which he hopes to be reassuring.

“But if, if you don't mind me asking,” He hedges, voice quiet and soft, “Why did you come here, you said to see me, and that's nice of you sir, I'm um flattered, but honestly that just doesn't make any sense, clearly Kurt doesnt think so either-” Burt laughs gruffly and rubs a hand over his balding head.

“You're right it doesn't, but I'm a Hummel, this is how we work, surely you've already figured that out about Kurt-” Blaine drops his chin slightly and smirks. Yes he knows all too well what lack of sense Kurt seems to make in his choices and decisions at times, though common sense is something that just seems so natural to him.

Burt sighs, "Falling out with Kurt like this, or whatever the hell happened with us is never something that I wanted or accounted for, never. That kid and I have been like two peas in a pod for many, many years, but something just happened, I just... lost him... somewhere, somehow. I've tried with him though, the best that I can, many times over the years-"

Blaine nods, hanging on Burt's every word, feeling like his heart is in his throat. "I can believe that Burt-"

"Its true, I did, but youll know what hes like by now, how stubborn he is, so I guess I just resigned myself. I felt better knowing that Carole kept coming out here to check on him and generally just not leave him alone, as stubborn as he may be, Carole is worse, and thankfully so.” Blaine smirks a little at that, he does get that impression, she and Kurt seem like very well suited personalities.

“Eventually I just backed off, figured that if he wanted to recon-ciliate with me then he would, but then weeks became months and months became years and then I got too distant, to caught up and pissed off at how ridiculous it had all became and how much it had escalated-" Burt cuts himself off with a swig from his bottle as Blaine watches quietly.

"Carole told me about you, told me how he is with you, how hes like the old Kurt, I love my boy in any way he comes, always will, but she said that he seems happier in himself with you around. Personally and honestly I wasn't on board with the whole PA idea that Carole had at first, I thought it was dumb and just didn't get it, but who was I to dare get involved huh? But now I can see how well its all worked out and when I seen those videos and pictures up of the two of you from that fancy premier thing, I seen his smile, and the twinkle in those eyes and I seen my old Kurt, the son that I love, have never stopped loving and should never have given up on, and so here I am." Burt takes another long draw from his bottle just as his voice begins to falter.

Blaine clears his throat, theres nothing but sincerity with this man, in every word and every look. There are questions, so many questions that Blaine wants to ask, but now is certainly not the right the time, if he's learnt anything at all in the past year, it's that things will get answered and explained when they're ready to, all in good time.

Blaine will do anything he can to try and help this man, not push or insist, just support, it seems almost imperative to him to try and reunite he and Kurt to the way they were, the way it always should be.

"Burt?" Burt looks at him with glass likes eyes, the resemblance to

Kurt is somewhat uncanny.

"Would you, just, let me know if theres anything that I can ever do to help-" Burt stretches an arm out to wrap around Blaines shoulders and clap lightly him on the back.

"Oh don't worry youre helping just enough, whatever it is, you've been doing around here, just don't stop kid, you hear me?"

Blaine nods, swallowing hard. "I care about your son an awful lot, I want you to know that, I love the work that we do together, but he-he means a great deal to me-"

"I know that, I can see it, he cares about you too you know, he may not show it in the best of ways-" Burt doesn't look or seem uncomfortable in anyway, he speaks as though he's stating facts.

"Yeah I know that, hes um told me-" Burt looks at him suddenly with a surprised expression washing over him, something a little like awe, and then a wide smile cracks over his face. He nods once, and Blaine doesn't know what he's actually nodding to or for, maybe some form of silent confirmation of something in his own head.

"I see-" Burts eyes begin to wander away, seeking out over the expanse of the room, clearly looking for an escape route before this conversation gets any deeper than it needs to be. Blaine doesn't know what's come over him, hes never opened himself up like this to a stranger before, never mind, somebody who is the father of a man who he has never had feelings for like this before.

Burts eyes seem to land on something over in the kitchen, they widen and he stands, nose in the air, like a hound dog following his instincts and his nose, he got a small mischievous smirk on his face, the one that's almost identical to Kurt's, but Kurt usually uses his for much more personal matters. “That's uh, that's not pizza I spy over there is it?"

Blaine follows his movement with his eyes and smiles catching on to the same thing, he stands and follows Burt over to the counter where the large pizza box and a couple of foil containers had been left. "Sure is, come on I'll get you a plate, you must be starved."

A short while later, theyre sitting side by side with the cardboard box opened up in front of them on the counter top, sharing equal pieces of just slightly cold pizza and dipping crispy fried potato skins into a barbeque sauce with almost empty beer bottles and two new ones cooling in an ice bucket. Burt licks his fingers and then wipes them on the faded knees of his jeans whilst Blaine demurely uses a folded paper napkin.

"Dont worry kid," Burt says between bites, turns to him suddenly with a look on his face, bright and determined and most important of all kind. "I'm not here to disrupt the peace or anything, thats not what I came here to do. I wont outstay my welcome, as ice cold as it may already be, I guess I just thought that now was a good time to try again you know, to get through to him, and I think that youre my best shot at trying to do that." Blaine looks at him rather perplexed, an eyebrow raised whilst he washes down a mouthful with a swig of beer, the taste feeling a little too bitter on his tongue. He's wearing the ‘me?' expression very well, and Burt shrugs and smiles at him.

"You ever heard of the saying you gotta be cruel to be kind? "Blaine nods, eyes widening slowly, understanding flooding his face. “Well let's just say that it's time to dust off some old parenting methods.” Blaine doesn't know what else to say to that, how to answer or how to offer any form of advice, so he doesn't. He can't argue, not with the man about his son, Burt deserves the opportunity to try, and Kurt deserves the opportunity to warm to him once more and to listen, Blaine as always holds hope. 

They continue their food, talking about sports and cars and most other generic, easy stuff to discuss and when Blaine has polished off the last of the pizza crusts and disposed of the empty cartons and boxes, and Burt has finished his last swallow of beer, Blaine leads him upstairs to the guest room, which has been already cleaned and the bed made from when Carole had stayed with them at Christmas. Blaine stands in the doorway, hands in his pockets as Burt drops his bag on to the bed and turns to him.

“Um Burt,” It's probably not his place to say anything, but none of this is what you would call at all typically conventional. Burt has blatantly came here with the hope and the idea of using Blaine to propel some form of an improvement in the broken relationship with his son, therefore he doesn't think that Burt will mind so much or argue if he say's his money's worth.

“I uh, I don't know much about your family, your past, but I know that you, you all, suffered a great loss, and that it sadly has to do a little with the way that Kurt is these days. People cope and deal with such things in their own mysterious ways.” Burt doesn't say anything, doesn't move much, just stands watching Blaine, his face passive with a deep unwavering gaze and grey eyebrows drawn.

“I um, I guess I just want to say, don't beat yourself up too much about it, everybody has reasons for doing what they do, or say what they say. Everything means something to somebody, um Kurt actually told me that once, can't get it out of my head since-” Burt's eyes crinkle at the corners, they clear and glisten, like they're warming somehow, and there's a shadow of a dimple appearing on his cheek, something else which entirely too Kurt.

“He did? He said that?” Blaine smiles a little and nods, arms folding in front of his chest as he leans against the door jamb.

“I uh, you know, that was me, I said that to him once, he must have remembered-” Blaine smiles.

“That makes a lot of sense, he looks up to you, you've never stopped being his dad you know, he made his choices, but you have always still been there, just from a far.”

Blaine has a slight sudden moment when he wonders if Kurt can hear them, if Kurt has heard anything that they've mentioned about him at all tonight, his chest begins to freeze like a block of ice before he blows out a breath and shakes out his thoughts. His stomach unknotting with ease, determined and sure, if Kurt has been listening than tough, good, he needs to hear these things, needs to know how much everyone still cares for him, plus he'd had every opportunity to intervene and say his piece too.

Burt fidgets with the handle of his carry case on the bed, and perches on the edge of the mattress next to it with a sigh and then a grin, almost in wonder. “I like you kid, I like you a lot, and I can see why he does too, you're definitely the type of person he needs around, if only he could have had you back…then.” Blaine blushes, raises a hand to the back of his burning neck and looks down at the floor. “Thank you, you know for-just thank you, and like I said don't worry I'll be out of your hair soon. Just give me a day or so to get the ball rolling. Good night.”

Blaine smiles and nods, his arms unwinding as he reaches out for the metal door knob. “Take your time, don't sweat it,” He means it, “Goodnight Mr Hummel, it's been great to finally meet you.” And he means that too.

*

Blaine closes the door and quietly backs out into the hallway. He suddenly feels dog tired, can feel his hair springing free from its minimum product hold, his clothes are rumpled and creased and there are probably light patches of sweat on his shirt under his arms from wearing them all day, working, walking around, canoodling a little with Kurt and then having to deal with their surprise guest.

Before his feet can carry him to the direction of his own bedroom, he swivels his head down the hall, eyes searching hopefully, ears pricked and trained to listen out for any sounds, any signs of life from where he knows Kurt's bedroom to be. He's never been in Kurt's bedroom yet, he can't imagine what it's like other than, neat and clean and probably understated, beautifully simple, much like Kurt. Some people see their bedroom as like a kind of doorway to their heart, the step between one thing to personal and private. He believes Kurt to be one of those people and he won't lie in saying that his own heart thumps with promise at the day he is invited into Kurt's bed.

For a millisecond, Blaine thinks about going to the mysterious room, quietly knocking on Kurt's door just to check on him, to make sure that he's ok and not made some escape route out of the bedroom window and down the fire escape like some lame movie. Honestly he just misses Kurt, he yearns to hear him and talk to him and just touch him, to hold him and be held by him in return. Even with Kurt's father here, he refuses to be placed in the middle and forced into one corner or the other, he will remain resolute and resilient, he's Switzerland, and will offer Kurt support just as much as he will Burt.

The downside is he'll have to back off and tamper down his other urges until they're alone in their home once again. Burt never made any comment or opinion in anyway about Blaine and Kurt's personal relationship, but that doesn't mean that he doesn't have one or had subtly applied or implied it. He's married to Carole for goodness sake, she's openly told him about Blaine, gave her opinions and it would be a downright miracle if she'd left out any of the parts about when she'd caught them eying other each other, and he's pretty damn sure that Carole had left the mistletoe, not Kurt.

Maybe they can manage some sort of sneaking around in some way, maybe they'll get time during the day if Burt heads out into the city for a little while. Blaine's mind whirls with thoughts and possibilities as he finally but slowly takes off down the hall, shaking his head and tiredly retiring to his own room for the night.  

*

By the time Blaine gets in to his dark, empty silent room save for Jester who is surprisingly sleeping heavily in his own bed tonight for a change, quickly showers, brushes and flosses and crawls into bed after deciding to forgo any clothes at all, it's after eleven. He buries himself into his pillows, arms folded behind his head as his body relaxes into a lazy state and he listens to the quiet muffles of Jester's quiet squeaky snoring from his kitty bed down on the floor. His eyes drift closed, lashes fluttering as his bare chest rises and falls with deep steady, even breaths, willing himself to calm, his mind emptying of mindless thoughts and worries.

He's tired, so overly tired that he can't sleep because of it. He's confused, his once gone head ache is threatening to resurface, he feels like he's on an episode of some kind of soap opera, when did his life come to this. His life which seemed to be pretty consistent with no cross roads, how did it get to here, to now? But still despite himself, he smiles, actually he giggles lightly, a deep grumble in his chest crawling up his throat. He actually wouldn't have it any other way.

He rolls on to his side and slides a hand down his chest, his skin still shower soft and moist and warm, until his palm connects with his cock and his fingers curl and tighten teasingly around himself until he's fully erect and panting. Sleep seems to be a long way off yet so this will have to be the next best thing, if only it wasn't his hand wrapped around him. Memories, mental images and pure imagination will have to suffice tonight.

He's groaning quietly, thrusting up lazily into his tight dry fist between the mattress and the soft sheets when his bedroom door creaks open quickly and shuts again immediately. “Oh good, you've already started.”

Kurt's voice is whisper soft and quiet, yet high and breathy. Blaine has barely rolled on to his back, hand stopped mid-action but still wrapped around himself, as Kurt climbs on to the bed and dips under the covers. He resurfaces, straddling Blaine's legs and shucking out of his own sleep pants whilst he fumbles to pull his shirt off, Blaine still a little shocked and surprised hurries to help him, abandoning his cock which is now pulsing and straining with even more excitement, and leaning up and in, kissing at any bare stretch of Kurt's perfect skin that he can. As Blaine's eyes refocus in the darkness of the room, they land on Kurt's pale strong chest, his bulging muscles, rose-tinted cheeks and unruly sweet smelling hair. Like heaven on earth.

“Kurt, oh god Kurt, missed this, missed you-” Kurt licks his palm and engulfs Blaine's cock with it as his other hand threads gently through Blaine's still-drying curls. Blaine works up and down his neck with his tongue and his teeth, like it's his job, like he needs oxygen and Kurt's throat is the main source.

“Ssshh, quiet.”

Blaine kisses his Adams apple and looks up at him through hooded eyes and matted lashes, voice, hoarse and rough and as quiet as he can keep it. “Are you mad at me?” And they both know that he's not referring to the fact that he was caught with his cock in his hand.

Kurt gently pushes at Blaine's shoulders so that he's lying back down completely and furiously starts working his fist over his hard, leaking erection, pre-come smearing everywhere. He uses his other hand to gently cup Blaine's balls, a finger teasing downwards occasionally, he bites his lips, eyes blown, chest heaving. “Do I look like I'm mad?” He squeezes in a particularly delicious way and Blaine almost convulses off of the mattress. “God, I need you Blaine, need you so much.”

He's like a man possessed, so utterly taken in the moment and Blaine is completely at a loss to stop him, his throat tightens, words drying up as he focuses on breathing. Kurt kisses his lips, a soft gentle press and then his jaw, his neck and then collarbone. His teeth and tongue tease each of his nipples and then he trails lower still, his hand continuing to pull and twist over Blaine's cock, thumb gliding over his swollen sensitive head. When Kurt's kisses finally lower and reach where his hand is wrapped around Blaine's cock, he unravels his fingers and Blaine thinks that he's going to finish him off with his mouth. His cock pulses at the thought and Blaine is definitely excited with the idea, he's about two minutes away from coming, he can't even try to hold it.

But then Kurt shuffles backward along his thighs, drops his body into the space on the mattress between Blaine's legs and uses his hands to bend his knees up and spread them apart, his head dropping lower as he goes. Blaine only has a moment to realize where this is going until its there. “Wanted this Blaine, needed you.”

Kurt's tongue is lapping at him like it's nobody's business without preamble, both soft and rough strokes over and over his puckering hole. Blaine can't control the groan that curls up his throat, as quiet as he is trying to be, cut off by a bite of his lips and his fingers digging into Kurt's hair as his hips jolt upwards.

“Oh fuck, fuucckk, Kurt, Jesus-”

Kurt pulls off and moves up, kissing his way over Blaine's hipbone. He nips at it lightly, a warning. “I said quiet.”

And then he's back, back to lapping and curling his tongue, licking into Blaine with short determined thrusts, panting and breathing heavily as he goes, his hands pinned firmly to Blaine's waist. It's hard and fast and fucking exquisite and sadly it's over before Blaine even has time to think about it, he's coming with his cock untouched, coming hard in warm white ropes up and over his chest. He's barely aware of Kurt moving a hand up to his mouth to cover his lips and muffle his broken pleasure-wracked sobs, too far gone to form words.

His vision blurs and then refocuses whilst his breath wheezes in and out of him, he kisses Kurt's palm once and then twice, and when Kurt removes it and slumps against Blaine's chest, Blaine captures his face with his hands and kisses him with abandon. They kiss and kiss, wet and slick whilst Kurt moves his hips up and down, writhing, rutting and rubbing against Blaine's sweat sticky thigh with stifled huffs and moans. He's so hard, so ready, feels so good against him, he comes moments later, not even allowing Blaine the chance to offer any help, he comes with his face pressed into Blaine's neck, crying out soundlessly as the thick substance spreads between their bodies.

Blaine kisses Kurt's temple, smiling into his sweaty hair, as Kurt comes to, lazily lifting his head, bleary eyed and wearily smiling back. “Kurt that was-”

“I know-”

“Your dad-”

“I know-”Blaine can't even bring himself to care that much, they weren't that loud at all, the bedrooms are all vastly spaced apart and Blaine's bed isn't even situated against that wall anyway. God how did they get from shy and demure and pussy-footing around each other to indulging in that, with Kurt's estranged father sleeping down the hall.

Blaine wraps his arms around Kurt's shoulders tightly, resting his chin on his head and just holds him, holds him like he's wanted to, like he's needed to.

“Are you ok?”

He feels Kurt nod gently against him and decides not to push it any further, Kurt will talk to him when he wants to talk to talk to him, he always does. Then again, not a lot has to be spoken between them to be communicated.

Blaine's not sure how much time has passed but some time a short while later when their bodies are calm and drying and sticky, he feels the edges of sleep begin to wash over him and pull him under. Kurt presses a lazy line of soft chaste kisses to his shoulder and then sits up.

“Thank you,” he whispers into the quiet darkness, hushed against Blaine's skin. “Thank you, for just being you and for being here.” And then he's gone, quietly padding out of the room, with a soft click of the door opening and reclosing.

At any other time Blaine would feel the emptiness and sadness that fills his chest, that he usually feels whenever Kurt leaves his bed, but tonight his grin sits proudly upon his face, chest thumping with pride and excitement and adrenaline and something strangely close to contentment. Kurt needs Blaine, he needs him raw and open and unforgiving, and Blaine will let him have him, any part and every inch, in way he wants, at any time.

Blaine lets his body, heavy and deliciously sated relax into a deep night's sleep.

*

The next morning, early enough for his head and eyes to still feel hazy and heavy but late enough for the sun to spread through the windows and light the rooms with delightful bright warmth, Blaine enters the kitchen to make his and Kurt's usual coffee when he stops short.

The coffee's already made, freshly filtered and brewed, steaming up a large glass jug with mugs waiting patiently along side of it, the air smells rich of toasted bread, grilled meats and poached eggs and the TV is already switched on to some sports news channel.

“Morning,” Burt is kneeling down over by the breakfast bar on the tiled floor, a piece of sausage between his fingers and Jester licking keenly at the tips, his ears folding in pleasure. Blaine steps forward with an incredulous smirk and snaps his fingers, causing Jester to jump, snatch the last bite out of Burt's hand and run away looking more than guilty. Burt pulls himself to his feet, a sheepish grin on his face. “Sorry kid, he on a strict diet or something?”

Blaine chuckles, shaking his head as he pours some coffee evenly into the waiting mugs, “Nah, but he is getting fat I guess, I do try and train him but whether he listens depends on his mood, and you ought to be careful, anyone would think you had a soft spot for him.” Burt smiles and points to himself, feigning a look of shock.

Blaine looks around at the serving trays, stomach already rumbling appreciatively. “Wow, this all looks great Burt, is it for us, thank you so much.”

Burt shrugs and waves a hand in the air, “The least I could do.”

“There's far too much cholesterol in this kitchen for a Thursday morning.” Blaine turns to face the kitchen doorway, sipping from his mug neatly as Kurt enters swiftly, heading straight towards to the spare coffee cup that Blaine's holding, eyes trained on Blaine's hand. Blaine keeps quiet, keeps sipping as Kurt takes the mug from him with a nod of thanks, and a tell tale twinkle in his eye.

Burt says nothing, doesn't even look at Kurt, just picks up his plate of eggs and bacon and on his way over to the couch he takes an apple from the nearby fruit bowl on the countertop with a cocky sideways glance and flops himself down, turning up the volume using the TV remote and taking an almighty bite.

Blaine looks on somewhat astonished, so Burt is obviously following through on his plans then. He watches as Kurt rolls his eyes in his father's general direction, before stalking off into the main hall and towards the office, barely keeping a tight enough grip on is coffee mug.

What's surprising Blaine the most is the fact that there's no arguing, no yelling, no bitter, hurtful words or slicing tones, just silence. Complete ignorance with a hint of sarcasm, it's very odd and mind boggling and Blaine thinks that he's really got his work cut out with this one. He hears the office door slam closed out in the hallway, Kurt is obviously not waiting for Blaine to join him anytime soon and startles as Burt laughs loudly at something a commentator is saying on the screen. 

Kurt can strop all he likes, Blaine still has ten minutes before working hours starts and since their morning make out is most likely out of the equation, Blaine is going to eat his cooked breakfast that Burt has kindly made for him, and he's going to damn well enjoy it.  

He's just finishing off his breakfast sandwich, dabbing the corners of his mouth with a napkin when his work phone buzzes in his pocket, he stands to load his dishes into the dishwasher and take a sip of orange juice as he thumbs at the screen.

Kurt P

07.59

Do not make me compete with my father for your attention Mr Anderson…

Blaine pockets his phone, shaking his head and smirking lightly as he leaves the kitchen.