Remind Me to Forget

Chapter 16

The music winds down with applause and laughter, and Blaine feels the smile on his face as he steps away from the front of the room and heads for Kurt, who's smiling next to Burt.

“Still with the 80s songs?”

Blaine nods. “David Bowie is classic.”

“Right.” Kurt draws out the word, and Blaine laughs at the skepticism in his voice.

“You owe me a duet.” Blaine responds, wrapping an arm around Kurt's waist. “Last song of the night.”

“Mm.” Kurt agrees, turning into Blaine's hold. “I'm guessing you already have a song, too?”

Blaine leads Kurt to the front of the room, Burt's laughter fading as they cross the distance. “Of course,” Blaine squeezes Kurt's hand, “I always have a song ready.”

“If I hadn't already chosen two songs earlier I'd be debating with you right now.”

“I thought everyone had to agree with someone on their birthday?”

Kurt laughs. “They do,” Kurt's grin turns teasing, “but as you told me earlier, your birthday isn't until Wednesday.”

Stopping beside the keyboard Blaine loses himself to breathless laughter before managing to get himself under control. “It's a good thing you're not actually arguing; I'd have to forfeit.” He pauses and then moves to where his laptop rests beside the speakers, available for karaoke versions the Glee members can't recreate on their own. “Ready?”

Kurt smirks and Blaine presses ‘play' before returning to Kurt's side. They trade the lines easily, dancing together across the small space. Blaine spins Kurt around, pulls him in as they sing – I could show you love in a tidal wave of mystery Youll still be standing next to me – sees Sam grinning from behind his guitar, Marley dancing with Ryder, Carole entering the room and going to stand near Burt when he slides away for the chorus. The song ends and Blaine smiles when he and Kurt bow in unison, feels his cheeks start to ache from the force of it.

Gradually conversation replaces applause, their friends gathering up bags and instruments. Blaine keeps Kurt close as they walk around the room, helping their friends find misplaced cell phones in between showing off his new ring.

Blaine's never been more grateful for the conversation change from ‘How are you?' to ‘Can I see?'

Blaine never says ‘no' and even though Kurt blushes through Blaine's retelling of the story Blaine knows he's secretly basking in the continued attention.

“I can't believe you're engaged!” Sam's exclamation has Blaine turning away from Ryder with a shrug.

“I've been engaged, Sam.” Blaine shares an amused look with Kurt, gives a slight shrug to say that no, he doesn't understand the comment either. “You were there, remember? There were rose petals and you helped me get half the Glee clubs in Ohio to Dalton?”

“Well yeah. But now you're really engaged. You have your own ring now!” Sam's voice holds excitement and sincerity equally and Blaine can't help but smile in response.

“It is nice that you have one, too,” Kurt adds, "we're partners in this, after all.”

Blaine ducks his head, feels his cheeks burning. “You still manage to surprise me. I thought we were done with romance for the day.”

Kurt scoffs, gives Blaine a considering look. “Well, if you don't want romance…”

“I didn't say that!” Blaine hastens to reply, absently notes Sam turning way. “I just – you proposed earlier, Kurt.” And that's not all of what Blaine wanted to say, but he can't find the words; they're trapped circling in his brain, not making the trip to his vocal chords. Kurt seems to understand anyway though.

He should have known: Kurt always understands.

Kurt lifts their joined hands so Blaine's ring glints in the light. “I did propose earlier, but if I remember correctly you had flowers sent to the loft after you proposed, and you filled up my phone with a list of texts while I was on the plane.”

“Mm,” Blaine hums in agreement but any further response is cut off by a shout from the doorway. Turning, he sees Jake standing by Burt.

“You get to see each other the rest of the day; Blaine, you owe us some hugs!”

Blaine laughs and detangles his hand from Kurt's, stepping away with a smile. “Sorry, sorry. I'm coming.”

Moments later it's hugs and laughter and claps on the back and an uncountable number of ‘happy birthdays' before the last person steps out the door and Blaine is able to collapse into a chair in the kitchen, half-heartedly reaching for the pizza and Tupperware in front of him.

“You're not actually trying to clean up your own party, are you?” Carole's question has Blaine pulling his arm back guiltily, ignoring Kurt's snort of laughter from beside him.

“I guess not?” Blaine relaxes back into the chair, absently reaches to his left where Kurt's hand is waiting. “Thank you, again. I can't – I still can't believe all of you did this.”

“You had to know we were going to celebrate your birthday.” Burt responds with a clasp to Blaine's shoulder as he reaches over him to start putting the pizza away. “It's not every day you turn eighteen. And don't start with the actual date; there can't be a party in the middle of the week.”

Blaine swallows back his comment, and feels a rush of gratitude to Burt and Carole as he remembers birthday phone calls (occasionally belated) and impersonal presents from previous years. “Still, you didn't have to, really. So thank you.”

Silence reigns for a moment broken only by the snap! as Burt puts the lid on the pizza box. “You're welcome, kid, but it's not like we didn't enjoy it too.”

“You better not have snuck some extra pizza, Dad. You know –”

“Relax.” Burt interrupts Kurt's comment with a raised rand. “I can have fun without breaking your diet rules. I got to listen to some nice music and dance with a pretty girl.” Burt's wink has Carole rolling her eyes and Blaine joins Kurt in quiet laughter.

Minutes later they're all seated around the table, pizza safely in the fridge. “If you boys don't mind, I was thinkin' we could hang out around the house tomorrow. Have some family time.”

Despite Burt having said something similar times before, Blaine still feels a slight pressure behind his eyes at being included in the Hudson-Hummel family. Kurt squeezes his hand and Blaine turns to face him, smiles in answer to the silent question.

“That sounds great,” Kurt replies with a smile, “Blaine and I will even make breakfast.”

-*-*-*-

“Are you sure your dad's okay with us sharing your room?”

Kurt nods. “He knows the potential embarrassment outweighs any temptation.” He glances over, sees Blaine slowly pulling back the covers on the bed and appreciates the view with Blaine in a worn t-shirt and a stolen pair of Kurt's pajama pants. “Besides, you've been here for a month; I think that makes this your room too.”

Kurt sees Blaine smile, shaking his head as he fluffs pillows and straightens blankets. “It's still your room, Kurt. I'm just co-opting it for a while.”

“Hm. Well, it's still a nice thought,” at Blaine's questioning look he continues, “something that's ours.”

“I'll be in New York soon; then we'll have a home.”

“Mm. Complete with Santana and Rachel.” Kurt narrows his eyes at the reminder, but they brighten again at Blaine's laugh.

“Well yes.” There's a pause, Kurt hums along to Feel the Silence softly playing from the docking station before Blaine continues, “We'll have our room?”

Kurt laughs and steps away from the dresser, joining Blaine by the bed. “We will. And they can't dictate decorating choices there. Oh!” Kurt hurries to his bag and pulls out a notebook before returning, waving the book slightly in response to Blaine's unasked question. “I put together some decorating plans.”

Blaine's face scrunches in confusion. “But you've already decorated your room at the loft, Kurt. You love it.”

“I decorated my room, Blaine.” Kurt moves to sit on the bed, places the book between him and Blaine. “Once you're in New York that room isn't just mine anymore. And I want you to feel comfortable, too. Not like you're just sleeping over.” Kurt gestures to the book. “I made some ideas, but I was hoping we could look over them together. We can change things, these are just early –”

Kurt's comment is lost as Blaine surges across the distance and kisses him, and Kurt quickly drops his arms to the bed so the change doesn't have them falling.  Blaine pulls away moments later, lips bruised and eyes sparkling.

“I love you.” Kurt will never tire of hearing Blaine say those words.

“I love you too.” The words come out softer than he'd planned, but he blames that on Blaine's kiss.

Kurt doesn't have a chance to continue before Blaine leans over and kisses him again, pulling him closer before dipping him slightly. Kurt leans back, leaning his weight on his elbows, and sighs as Blaine shifts mumbling about ‘our room' and ‘perfect' as he drops light kisses to Kurt's neck. Kurt loses himself for a moment, savoring having a hot, wonderful fiancé and a comfortable bed –

His bed.

In his parents' house.

“Blaine.” Kurt halfheartedly calls the name before gathering his willpower. “Blaine. As lovely as this –” Kurt steadies his breath, “as wonderful as this is. We have to stop. Blaine. My dad and Carole are down the hall.”

There's a sigh and then Blaine's leaning back, looking smug even as he pouts. “You're here in Ohio, we have permission to be alone in your room with door shut and you want me to stop kissing you; where's your sense of adventure?”

“I left it in the car. Where there's no parents.” Kurt smiles and doesn't comment on Blaine's change of heart from moments before. “Anyway, I'm certainly not complaining, but what brought that on?”

“You made a notebook for decorating plans,” Blaine says with a slight shrug, “plans for our bedroom in New York.”

Kurt's breath catches at the words, seemingly only realizing now the magnitude of his plans. “Oh.” He blindly reaches out and Blaine's hand intertwines with his moments later. “We'll have our space. Well, some. We'll have to talk to the girls about rearranging anything in the common spaces, and you'll have to keep your bathroom stuff in our room because –”

“Kurt.” Blaine startles Kurt from the railroad of his thoughts. “It'll be fine. I know it won't be perfect, but we'll be together and we'll figure it out. Plus,” Blaine gestures to the notebook on the bed, “you've already started plans. And I'm sure we'll figure things out as we go. Besides,” Blaine smirks, “we've always been good at improvising.”

Kurt laughs and gives Blaine a playful shove. “You're impossible, Blaine Anderson.” He shakes his head and reaches for the notebook before moving and settling against the pillows, patting the space beside him. “Let's plan out our room.”

The music provides a comfortable backdrop and Kurt loses track of time, caught in the discussion of fabrics and color themes. Eventually though, Blaine makes an outlandish suggestion (because as much as Kurt's fiancé is sweet he also loves to push Kurt's buttons) and Kurt leans forward, laughing even as he narrows his eyes.

“We are not copying your mother's sense of style in any way, Blaine, and you knew that before you even suggested checkered curtains.”

Beside him, Blaine laughs. “Maybe I just wanted to see your reaction,” there's a pause and Blaine's voice loses its good humor, “but no, Kurt. I don't want our home to copy my parents' in any way.”

Kurt pushes the notebook aside, draws Blaine in until he's leaning against Kurt's chest and Kurt can carefully drag his fingers through Blaine's curls. “You don't have to answer…but earlier, I was a little surprised when I found out you'd be at your parents' house. It made for a better entrance, I'll admit, but it seems like you've been over there a lot lately.”

The sounds of a piano cover of Viva La Vida fade and Hear You Me is half over before Blaine speaks. “I don't – there's nothing wrong here, if that's what you're worried about.” Blaine sighs and Kurt drops a light kiss to his head. “I've been using the piano there.” Blaine twists to meet Kurt's gaze. “Just for practice.”

Kurt feels his face tighten in confusion. “Blaine…Dad brought the keyboard here. I know that the keys feel a little different, but not even your work ethic and Mr. Schue's desire for another trophy means you have to go over there multiple times a week.”

“It's not –” Blaine ends the half formed sentence with a sigh of frustration, and Kurt waits, knows Blaine is searching for the words. “I know your parents said that it wasn't a problem. And they've been so amazing, Kurt, really. They've done more – they've been so supportive, after everything.” Blaine pauses again, takes a breath before continuing. “At first I thought it was just timing because Carole's always been so helpful.” Kurt ignores the knot of confusion at his stepmother's name, forces himself to wait for Blaine to finish. “It bothers her when I practice on the keyboard.” Blaine lets out a soft chuckle. “I can't blame her, really. Playing the same pieces over and over isn't fun for me so I can see how it would be annoying for her. Plus, it's new – she hasn't had years to get used to it.” Blaine moves slightly, and moments later his hand tangles with Kurt's. “She hasn't said anything; she wouldn't. She's been so amazing, Kurt. But once I noticed,” Blaine shrugs, “I don't mind driving out to the house to practice.”

“Blaine,” Kurt starts but lets the sentence die, unsure of how to continue. It doesn't make sense. Carole loves music. She had come to every concert, even when she'd already heard the songs before. After performances she'd have a smile and sweet talk Kurt's dad into taking everyone out to dinner.

She even demanded he and Finn practice in the living room –

Oh.

Oh.

“Kurt? Are you – Kurt what's wrong?” Blaine's question pulls Kurt from his thoughts, and he looks down and sees his knuckles standing white where he's clenching Blaine's hand.

“Sorry.” Kurt quickly releases Blaine's hand, presses a kiss to his hairline along with another whispered apology.

“It's fine, really. I'm hardly going to complain from you holding my hand.” Kurt feels the ghost of a smile at Blaine's attempt at levity. “But Kurt; what's wrong?”

“I don't know for certain – I mean, we haven't really talked about it.” Kurt pulls Blaine back against him, relishing in his warmth, in the feel of his heartbeat. “I might be looking too much into things. But,” Kurt sighs and drops his head to rest on Blaine's shoulder, “I used to practice for Glee in the living room. With Finn.”

The a capella piece keeps the silence from being too trying, and Kurt relaxes a fraction when Blaine's arms come up to trap Kurt's against his chest. Kurt takes comfort in the strong beat.

Proof Blaine's alive.

He feels the ache in his chest, the pressure behind his eyes, and Kurt keeps his face hidden in Blaine's shoulder until it eases – until he can breathe effortlessly. Slowly, Kurt raises his head and absently notes that the music's changed again.

“I'm sorry, Kurt. I didn't even think –”

Kurt's ensuing laugh is strained, but honest. “What have I said about that word?” He takes a breath before continuing, “You don't have to be sorry, Blaine. Not about this. And – and I could be wrong. I don't know for certain that Carole is avoiding it. But it doesn't make sense, otherwise. She loves music, Blaine. She does.”

“I know.” At Blaine's affirmation Kurt feels some of the tension ease from his shoulders.

“But she didn't stay in the room tonight. When everyone started singing – she left. I thought she was just organizing stuff in the kitchen…but she was gone too long. She didn't come back until we were almost done with Safe and Sound.”

Blaine hums in agreement and the only sound is the music until Kurt fails to hide a yawn.

“You must be tired. And jetlagged, I mean you flew all the way here and then drove out to the house, and that was before the party.” Blaine leans back and his head rests on Kurt's collarbone. “I think it's time for bed.”

Kurt nods in agreement, reluctantly separating himself from Blaine as they head for the bathroom. Moments later, teeth brushed and faces washed (and cleansed with a slightly rushed, shortened moisturizing routine) Kurt climbs back into the bed, fumbles for the remote on the nightstand before turning off the docking station and setting his phone to charge. An echoing beep lets him know Blaine's plugged his phone in too, and Kurt settles in the bed as Blaine joins him, radiating warmth.

“No iPod tonight?”

“No. I'm hoping I won't need it. But,” Blaine pauses and Kurt feels him tense in his arms, “I might still have them. The nightmares. I know you're exhausted after everything – I can take the couch so you can sleep without –”

Kurt cuts off Blaine's words with a gentle kiss. “If you think I'm letting you sleep in another room when I haven't seen you in months and we have the blessing of my father you're sorely mistaken.” Kurt catches Blaine's gaze and lowers his voice. “And don't worry about it, Blaine. If you wake me up, you wake me up. I'd still rather be here, with you.” Kurt pauses as another thought occurs to him. “Unless…would it be better if you slept alone? I don't want –“

“No!” Blaine's exclamation seems impossibly loud after Kurt's murmurings. “No. I love having you here. I just don't want to keep you from sleeping.”

“I'm going to ignore that perfect opening you gave me and instead remind you that I want to be here, and,” Kurt reaches down and raises Blaine's left hand, “you're stuck with me – there's no backing out now.”

Blaine turns and resettles, his head resting above Kurt's heart. “I never wanted to back out; I asked you first, remember?”

“I think the months it took you to first catch up means I'm still leading.”

Blaine laughs before meeting Kurt's gaze. “You're sure, though? I can –”

Kurt reaches over and turns off the lamp, leaving the room with only the slight glow from digital clocks. “Go to sleep, Blaine. I love you.”

“I love you, too. G'night.”

Kurt smiles at Blaine's mumbled response. “Goodnight. Sweet dreams.”

Kurt closes his eyes and wishes on the stars he can't see that his comment holds true.

-*-*-*-

A punch pushes him back, further into the arms of his captor.

“Sadie Hawkins isn't for homos, Anderson! Hold ‘em Mitch. Cover his mouth, too. Can't have him crying, now.”

Hands hold him, and Blaine can't move. His voice is as trapped as his body, and fear grows the longer he's immobile.

Light flickers and the darkness grows and Blaine feels his breath catching. He's being pushed again, pain exploding.

“Yeah, they're down alright, Mitch. Whaddaya say, Blaine –

“Blaine!” He startles upright, breath catching. Blaine brings his arm up to rub at his eyes, blinks when the pressure around his shoulders moves and seconds later the room is bathed in the dim light from the bedside lamp. He turns and sees Kurt sitting inches away. “Hey. Sorry. I know you're not supposed to wake up someone in the middle of a nightmare, but you were gasping, Blaine, and I –”

“No, I –” Blaine stops, takes a breath before starting again, “thanks for waking me up. I'm sorry you had to, though.” Blaine sees Kurt clenching the blankets and his own hands move of their own volition, reaching across and grasping Kurt's. “I hoped I wouldn't get them tonight.”

“As romantic as it would have been, I knew that my being here wasn't a guarantee they'd stay away.” Kurt releases the blankets, twines Blaine's fingers with his own. “Are – are they always that bad?”

Blaine ducks his head, refuses to meet Kurt's eyes. “Um, I don't remember all of them, but I don't feel any worse than usual.” Blaine takes a few more breaths, forces them to be somewhat steady. “I had a much nicer wakeup call though.”

There's a slight huff and then Blaine's being pulled forward into a tight hug.

“Thanks for the compliment, but you don't have to try and charm me right now.”

Kurt's words have Blaine tucking his head against Kurt's neck and shoulder, releasing a still shaky breath. His arms snake around Kurt's waist, clinging. He breathes in the comfort, keeps his eyes shut and loses the battle when he feels tears gather.

“Sorry. I'm sorry. It's – I just want to enjoy you being here. I want things to be normal, Kurt. I want to go to bed with my fiancé and wake up in the morning.And I can't even do that because of these stupid dreams. Oh God,” Blaine pulls back, looks at Kurt, “did I hurt you? You said it was bad. Are you okay? I know –”

Kurt's lips press against his in a soft kiss that halts the flow of words before he breaks the kiss and leans his forehead against Blaine's. “I'm fine, Blaine. I promise. I'll admit that I wasn't expecting it, but you didn't hurt me. Not even a bruise.”

Blaine releases the breath he hadn't realized he was holding and sags in Kurt's arms, even as he scans Kurt in the low light. “Are you sure? I can go to the sofa – there's already a pillow –”

Kurt presses a finger to his lips. “We had this discussion earlier, Blaine. We're both staying here.” Kurt's arms briefly tighten around Blaine's shoulders. “And I'm fine, remember? Now,” Kurt shifts, and Blaine's pulled down with him when he can't bring himself to let go, “that's enough talk of you leaving, okay? We're getting married, Blaine, and I can't make these nightmares go away, as much as I wish I could. But,” Kurt turns and Blaine shifts to meet his gaze, “I can promise to be here for you as much as possible.” Kurt offers a small smile. “And personally, I think sharing a bed with you more than makes up for any bad dreams.”

Blaine lowers his head back to Kurt's chest, moves his left arm so his hand – and the ring – is in sight even as he takes comfort in Kurt's breaths beneath him. “I love you, Kurt.”

There's a click and the room loses its light before Kurt's arm wraps around him. “I love you, too. You're precious to me.”

Blaine doesn't fight the smile even as his eyes close in exhaustion. “‘m So glad I found you.” Blaine shifts slightly before settling and allowing slumber to claim him.

-*-*-*-

There's faint light coming through the window when Blaine wakes again. He tries to be gentle as he reaches for his phone but Kurt blinks awake anyway, gives Blaine a sleepy smile.

“Hi.”

Blaine leans down, gives Kurt a soft kiss, heedless of morning breath. “Hey. You're still here.”

“Mm. I am.” Kurt shifts, brings his arms around Blaine's shoulders. “I like this wake up call.”

Blaine hums in response, leans down for another kiss only to meet air as Kurt twists away with a hint of laughter. Blaine lets his head fall against the mattress, lets out a groan as he draws out Kurt's name. “I thought you liked waking up like this.”

“I do," Blaine ignores the way his heart skips at the words, "But we promised to make breakfast,” Kurt replies as he stands and holds out a hand, “c'mon. Coffee,” Blaine gets to his feet as Kurt continues, “but the bathroom first. Toothpaste – then kissing.”

Blaine laughs and follows Kurt. Minutes later, breath minty fresh and lips slightly bruised he starts the coffee while Kurt rummages in the cabinets. He turns, pulls his iPod from his pocket and quietly sets it in the docking station in the corner of the counter, smiles when music starts softly playing moments after. “So, pancakes?”

“Mm.” Kurt's reply is distracted, he hasn't turned from the cabinet, and Blaine dances over, wraps his arms around Kurt's waist, grateful they're alone so there are no witnesses as he leans his head against Kurt's shoulder blades. “What're you looking for?”

“Vanilla.” Kurt rummages a bit more before giving a small jump, startling Blaine back a step as Kurt spins. “Found it!” Kurt waves the bottle in jubilation. “For the pancakes.”

Blaine reaches forward, pulls Kurt in and starts moving them in a slow, playful dance. “I thought I was making pancakes.”

“You are. You make the best pancakes.” Kurt smiles, drops his head to Blaine's shoulder. “I'm in charge of the eggs and bacon; otherwise Dad will try and sneak extra.”

The comment has Blaine huffing a laugh and pulling Kurt closer. “Carole's been helping with that.”

“Mm. But I'm here now and it's fun to be in charge. Speaking of,” Kurt steps back, loosening Blaine's hold, “breakfast. We have to cook, Blaine.”

Blaine sighs and pulls away after a quick kiss. “Slave driver.”

Minutes later Blaine stands by the sizzling griddle, trading lines in the song with Kurt, who stands at the stove, whisking eggs while bacon cooks. Blaine flips a pancake and then quickly steps to give Kurt a surprise peck on the cheek before returning to take the now-finished pancake from the pan.

It becomes a game, then.

Kurt surprises Blaine as he's pouring more batter into the pan, and Blaine retaliates while Kurt is distracted flipping the bacon.  The unexpected pecks continue until Blaine's put the last pancake on the plate, and he pulls a shocked Kurt (his fiancé really is a terrible spy – he can't sneak up on anyone) in for a more thorough kiss, ignoring Kurt's squeak of alarm.

“I saw your shadow,” Blaine murmurs when they pause for breath, “and I much prefer your lips on mine, rather than my cheek.”

Kurt's bright laughter eclipses the soft music. “You really are incorrigible.”

“You really are very cute.”

Kurt laughs again even as he starts swaying, and Blaine follows until they're circling the kitchen in a slow dance.

“I hope you're not lettin' the food get cold.” Burt's comment has them springing apart, and Blaine ducks his head to hide the blush he knows is spreading.

“We're not,” Kurt's already back at the counter, placing himself between Burt and the bacon. “And sit down. We said we'd do breakfast, and that includes serving.”

“You just want to control what goes on my plate.” The audible humor takes any sting from Burt's words and Blaine smiles as he grabs plates from the cabinet, turning when Burt speaks again. “Can I at least get some coffee? Or are you going to pour that, too?”

Kurt sighs and waves Burt to the coffee pot.

“Is Carole up yet?” Blaine questions as Burt passes him. Blaine has three plates in hand, waits to reach for a fourth.

Burt takes two mugs from the cabinet before turning to Blaine. “She'll be down in a minute.”

Blaine nods and picks up the final plate before crossing the kitchen and handing them to Kurt. He gives his fiancé a wink as he steps away, taking the plate of steaming pancakes to the center of the table.

“Oh, this smells delicious!” Blaine smiles as Carole enters.

“Go ahead and take a seat,” Burt replies. “We're not allowed to serve ourselves, and I got your coffee.”

“Well, I'm not going to argue when it's no work for me.”

Blaine helps dish out the eggs and bacon and takes two finished plates to the table, setting them in front of Burt and Carole before moving to refill his and Kurt's mugs of coffee.  He rejoins the Hudson-Hummels seconds later, takes the empty seat in between Kurt and his dad.

“You better come home more often,” Burt nods to Kurt, “if this is the kind of wake up I get.”

Blaine blushes at the unintentional reference, sees Kurt's eyes widen as he quickly sips his coffee.

“It's just breakfast, Dad.”

“Uhuh.” Burt gestures to the table. “We don't eat like this every Saturday.”

“No we don't,” Carole adds as she takes a pancake, “because you don't want to end up being forced to go to the gym.”

Blaine shares a look with Kurt and Carole, breaks into laughter when Burt sighs.

“I represent Ohio in Congress, but I can't even choose my own breakfast.”

Laughter fills the kitchen.

-*-*-*-

Kurt takes the rinsed pan from Blaine and carefully sets it in the dishwasher, mentally organizing the rest of the dishes as he does. His dad and Carole had been politely dismissed after the plates were empty, and they'd laughingly left for the living room, saying they'd find a movie. He and Blaine had gathered up the dishes then, turning up the volume on the docking station so they could sing over the running faucet.

There had been a few duets, and one last impromptu dance after the pots were done, but now they're almost done, and Kurt relishes in the glimpse into the domesticity of his future.

A dripping plate fills his vision and pulls Kurt from his thoughts. He offers Blaine a smile as he adds it to the lower rack, smiles when he sees Blaine's ring glint in the light from the window. Blaine notices his inattention and playfully flicks some water.

“Blaine Anderson!” Kurt shrieks, takes a half step back, “I may be in pajamas, but if you start a water fight in here…” Kurt lets the threat trail off even as Blaine raises his hands in surrender.

“I just wanted to get your attention,” Blaine blushes and Kurt can help but smile in response, “and it's not like I'd mess up your parents' kitchen.”

Kurt's reply is interrupted by a loud car going down the street, the engine's roar – obviously sans muffler – overpowering both the music and any possible conversation.

He turns away from the window, annoyance settling at the disruption (idly wondering how he's managed to be annoyed by a loud car after less than twenty-four hours in Ohio) only to halt seconds later, comment dying.

Blaine stands frozen in front of the sink, hands clenched at his sides.

But even as he watches, Blaine slightly shakes his head, releases a breath and turns to face Kurt, and if Kurt were anyone else he wouldn't know the smile is for show – a mask to distract an audience.

For a moment, hurt blooms in Kurt's chest – he never wants Blaine to pretend for him – but Blaine's gaze is pleading, and Kurt holds back a sigh as he relents. In the middle of dishwashing on a Saturday morning isn't the best time (or place) for such a conversation anyway.

“Small town Ohio,” Kurt adds after a pause, “where Neanderthals think they're the coolest people around.”

Blaine releases a strained laugh before nodding in agreement and handing Kurt the last plate. “I'm going to go get my glass from your room.” Blaine pecks Kurt's cheek and is striding away moments later. Kurt knows they gathered all the dishes earlier, but he also remembers Blaine's panicked face from minutes earlier and he knows how important it is to take a moment to just breathe. He'd lain awake after Blaine's nightmare, unable to sleep. The nightmare wasn't a surprise, but the severity of it had been. Kurt had known that if anything Blaine was downplaying his fears when he texted, but to watch the love of his life struggling to breathe, trapped by memories of real events had given birth to fears Kurt hadn't contemplated.

The bubble Kurt had been using to protect himself had been popped in the worst way possible, his fears raining down around him.

“Done already?”

Burt's question startles Kurt from his thoughts, and he scowls once the jolt has passed. “Does everyone I know enjoy sneaking up on me?”

Burt laughs. “I don't know what your friends are doing in New York, but I certainly wasn't sneaking,” he raises his hands and Kurt notices the empty coffee mugs, “just came to get some refills.” There's a pause and Burt's face loses its humor. “You okay, Kurt?”

“I don't know.” Kurt can't lie: not about his feelings, and certainly not to his dad.

“First time he had a nightmare here,” Burt sets the mugs on the counter, runs a hand over his face, “I almost fell outta my chair.”

Kurt meets his dad's gaze at the admission that he'd heard the night before. “I knew he had them. I just didn't...” Kurt gives a helpless shrug, “His nightmares are memories - theyre actually real,” seeing his dad's questioning look he continues, “He went to get a glass from upstairs.”

“Hm.” Kurt waits as his dad gathers his thoughts, “Hopefully Dr. Schamp'll be able to help with that.”

“She's good, right?”

“She is, but if she's not the right fit for Blaine we'll call every clinic in Allen County.”

Kurt's hug has Burt letting out an oomph of surprise before reciprocating. They stand there until the song changes. The opening chords have Kurt's arms tightening.

“That was a good performance,” Burt comments as I'm gonna make a change drifts from the speakers.

Kurt hums in agreement even as he remembers the conversation he had with Blaine the night before.

“Hey Dad?” Kurt knows his voice is soft, cautious. He lowers his arms and steps back, busies himself by rinsing out the sink – he can't look at his dad and ask the question circling his mind. “Has Carole – Is she okay?”

“She's as good as she can be, given everything that's happened.”

“Hm.” Kurt hums in response, fiddles with the faucet. “Are you – has she acted differently, lately?”

“We've all been acting differently lately, Kurt. How about you just ask me what's on your mind instead of dancin' around the issue.” Burt's voice holds a touch of frustration and Kurt reminds himself that it's a sensitive topic.

“Does she still listen to music?” Kurt hadn't meant to be quite that direct, but he can't retract it now.

“What?” Kurt shuts off the water, turns to see his father looking confused. “What kind of question of that, Kurt? Of course she listens to music.”

“It's just,” Kurt sighs, makes sure he has his dad's attention before continuing, “she left the room as soon as we started karaoke yesterday, and –”

“She's always gone when I practice on the keyboard.” Kurt turns, sees Blaine standing in the doorway, an empty glass in his right hand. “I'm sorry.” Blaine shrugs, “It could be nothing. I know playing the same songs over and over isn't the best entertainment. But then she left yesterday and –” Blaine shares a glance with Kurt, “we just don't want to upset her. After everything.”

Michael Jackson fades to Pink and the first chorus passes before Burt responds. “That why you've been goin' to your parents' house?”

Kurt sees Blaine flush and crosses to stand by him, takes his hand with a small smile as Blaine nods in answer. “I don't mind.”

“Not the point, Blaine.” Burt sighs and refills the two mugs of coffee before reaching into the cabinet and getting two more, filling them as well. He turns back and nods two the steaming mugs. “Fix your coffee, boys.”

Doctored mugs held moments later (in Blaine's left and Kurt's right – Kurt refuses to let of Blaine's hand) Kurt turns to face his dad. “Okay, we have our coffee…”

“Coffee always helps,” Burt comments, “besides, Carole's expecting a refill. Now, how about we go sort this out?”

Kurt gives Blaine's hand a reassuring squeeze even as an edge of panic sets in – what if he's wrong? What if Carole really just doesn't want to hear three songs on repeat? What if instead of helping Carole he hurts Blaine? – Blaine's hand squeezes back and Kurt takes a deep breath as they follow his dad from the kitchen.

Carole looks up from her spot on the sofa as they enter, offers a warm smile. “I was thinking we could watch The Princess Bride since –”

“That sounds good,” Burt comments as he passes her a mug and takes a set to her left, “but I – we were hopin' to ask you somethin' first.”

Kurt leads Blaine across from them, sets his mug on the coffee table and sits on the floor, leaning into Blaine when he settles next to him.

“Okay,” Carole's voice is light with confusion. “What's this important question?”

For a moment, no one speaks, but then Burt reaches over and takes Carole's hand. “How are you holdin' up?”

“I'm fine,” beside him, Blaine tenses at the words, and Kurt runs his thumb over Blaine's knuckles.

“It's just…the boys said something that got me thinking.” Burt pauses, and Kurt briefly wonders if he and Blaine should step out for a moment; his dad continues before he can move. “You can tell us we're wrong. You don't even have to answer. I'd just like to know.”

Carole turns, looks at Kurt. “You want to tell me what's going on?”

Kurt glances to his dad before he takes a steadying breath and straightens, Blaine's hand a comforting weight in his. “You left the party last night.” Kurt keeps his voice soft. “We started karaoke, and you left.” Kurt offers her a small smile. “I thought you were just controlling the pizza intake in the kitchen, but you didn't come back until Blaine and I sang the last song.”

“It's my fault,” Blaine adds, “I told Kurt how you haven't been here when I've practiced on the keyboard. I know rehearsal isn't great for an audience, but –”

“But,” Kurt picks up where Blaine paused, “I remembered how you always had Finn and me practice in here for Glee. So I just didn't understand why you were leaving. Or,” he glances to Blaine, “why Blaine felt like he was bothering you.”

“Oh! I never meant…” Carole spins to look at Blaine even as her voice trails off and her eyes shine. “It was never you Blaine. And I never wanted you to feel uncomfortable here. Or – or that you had to return to that house.”

Kurt shifts his weight, tilts his shoulder so Blaine's leaning into him and Kurt can feel the expansion of Blaine's chest as he breathes.

“He loved music. Even when he was a baby. Drove me crazy, actually – I'd be trying to sleep or working around the house and he'd be banging on the pots in the kitchen like they were the best drums money could buy.” Carole pauses, and Kurt rests his head against Blaine's as she rubs her hands over her eyes. “I'm sorry,” she offers a humorless laugh, “I just – he was my little boy. My musician even when he wasn't so little anymore.”

Burt moves then, pulling her into a hug and Kurt closes his eyes for a moment, focuses on the feel of Blaine beside him.

“– really loved music.” Kurt opens his eyes at Carole's comment, sees her sitting beside his dad, no space between them on the sofa and their hands clasped when he reaches for his coffee. “He loved it.” Carole sighs. “I get up every morning and for a moment, for one second I expect to hear him singing in the shower, or complaining about the lack of breakfast choice. But he can't – I won't ever have that again. And I get through the day by focusing on what I do have,” Carole looks to each of them in turn, and Kurt ignores the sting in his eyes. “But I can't do that with music. Music was Finn's thing. I know you boys love music, and you're both incredibly talented, but all I can focus on when I hear your performances is the fact that Finn can't. I thought – I thought it would help, at first. That hearing Blaine play or your Glee club sing would help me remember the good times. But I can't – I don't think I can distance myself. And I am so sorry, I want – I want to support you.”

There's silence for a moment, and Kurt replays Carole's words, sees echoes of himself and Finn singing.

“You've been supportive.” Blaine's words seem impossibly loud after Carole's hesitant ones. “Never think you haven't. I'll never – I can never repay you. Either of you.”

“You don't repay us, Blaine.” Kurt feels his lips twitch at his father's words. “You're family.”

“You are.” Carole agrees, leaning forward slightly. “And you don't have to keep leaving to practice, honey. I can – I can go upstairs or something. This is your home, too.”

Kurt feels Blaine stiffen at Carole's words, and when he replies the words are rough, choked. “Thank you. But really, I can practice there. I don't want to bring up bad memories –”

“Are they though? Bad?” Burt's words interrupt, “Carole, I'm not sayin' you have to sit in on everything, but Finn – he was my kid, too – and he wouldn't want you giving up any more because of what happened.” Kurt feels a rush of pride; that's his dad. “We can do whatever is best for you, we will, actually. But I don't want you hurting more than you have to. I mean, I didn't want to hear it when we went to the meeting,” Kurt feels his face scrunch in confusion before he remembers the grief counseling, “but I think they were right: we can't only focus on the pain. We're a family; we get through this together. And,” Kurt meets his dad's glance, “the boys are talented, I know you don't want to avoid that part of them for the rest of our lives.”

“No. You're right. I know you're right.” Carole looks up and Kurt feels Blaine's hand tighten. “I don't want to miss out on anything with you boys…you never know when – I want to be there.” Carole glances down and Kurt hears her take a steadying breath. When she looks up again her face has a strength that overpowers the pain in her eyes. “The next time you boys sing, I'd like to listen, if you don't mind. I – I can't promise I'll stay, this time, but I want to try.”

Kurt's nodding before the sentence is finished, feels Blaine doing the same before they both move without comment, standing before stepping around the table for a group hug.

They pull back an interminable time later, and Kurt distributes tissues from the box on the end table without comment. His head has the ache that comes from crying, and his eyes still sting, but he feels lighter than he has in months, a before unnoticed weighting having lifted.

“Thank you. I love you all, you know that, right? We might be missing one, but you're still all my boys. And this is the best family anyone could ask for.” Carole comments with a slight smile. They sit in silence for a moment, sipping their coffee. Kurt sits back, lets his weight rest against Blaine's side before raising up when Carole speaks. “Well, I think we've met our emotional family meeting quota for the year. So how about we go back to the plan and watch The Princess Bride?”

Burt steps away. “As you wish.”