"Wake up Blainers," I hear a voice singsong, "or you're going to miss breakfast."

            I groan and roll over, turning my back on Cooper. Alas, this is Cooper and he won't be ignored, so he starts jumping on the pullout.

            I sit up and glare at him, vision blurry given I hadn't put my contacts in yet. "Really Coop? How old are you again?"

            He just grins and moves forward, arms outstretched.

            "Stop," I warn. "I know what you're going to do and just don't. Please."

            "What's a matter Blainers?" he asks in a baby voice. "You afraid Kurtsie's going to find out how ticklish you are?"

            "What? No! Wait - where is Kurt?" I ask, just now noticing he hadn't chided us - well mainly Coop - for being so childish, especially when he hadn't had his morning coffee yet.

            "Oh he's downstairs already," Cooper answers, "having coffee with mother."

            I scramble out of bed. "You left him alone with mother? What time is it? What if father goes down before I'm there?! God, Coop, why didn't you wake me sooner?"

            "Uh first of all," Cooper starts while I scramble around gathering my stuff to take a quick shower, "he and mother seem to get along rather well, so I'm sure he's fine. As for father, you know he doesn't go down to breakfast until precisely 8 o'clock, and it's only 7:15. Besides, I really think Kurt will be able to handle him."

            "Seven fifteen? Coop, you know how long it takes to tame this!" I exclaim, pointing at my shaggy mop of hair.

            Cooper places his hands on my shoulders and stoops a bit to look me in the eyes. "Little brother, calm down. Just go without the get for today." When I start to open my mouth he squeezes my shoulders slightly. "Blaine. Stop worrying about what he thinks about you so much."

            "I don't -" He gives me a look. I sigh and drop my head. "I know I shouldn't care, not with the things he's said to me, but I... I just can't help it, you know?"

            "I know Blaine," my big brother says quietly. "I know."

            I take the stairs down two at a time, forcing myself not to run a hand through my oddly free curls (a habit I thought I kicked years ago). I glance down at my watch before stepping into the dining room.

            Here we go, I think, seeing it's 7:59 am.

            "And he's finally up!" Kurt is the first to notice my entrance. "I thought you were going to sleep the whole day away!"

            I roll my eyes. "Kurt, it's only 7:59."

            "It's 8 o'clock on the dot actually," a more than familiar voice says behind me.

            I turn around, force a smile, and offer a hand. "Father. Long time, no see."

            "Really Blaine? You're almost late to breakfast and you don't even have the excuse of gelling those infernal curls of yours?" father says instead of a proper greeting.

            I sigh, dropping my hand. Of course that's the first thing he says to me. "Sorry father."

            He looks at me a second longer before shifting his gaze behind me and to my left. "And you must be the reason my son hasn't been home in more than two years."

            I can hear the smirk in Kurt's voice as he replies, "Well you can't blame him really - I am fabulous."

            Father hums in answer, eyes narrowing in judgment at Kurt's use of the word "fabulous."

            "Actually father -" I start.

            "But actually sir," Kurt continues, interrupting and shooting me a look as he steps up beside me, "I think the real reason he hasn't come home is that he can't stand being in the presence of a judgmental, homophobic prick like you - especially during the holidays."

            Father grinds his teeth. "You've just met me, yet you have the audacity to speak so candidly?"

            Kurt simply stands there, staring back, no doubt on the verge of using his trademark glare. I consider saying something to break the silence but father suddenly bursts into laughter.

            What the fuck...? I think.

            "I may not like what you are kid," Father chuckles, "but you sure got balls. Hey, maybe you could lend some to Blaine here."

            Really?!

            Kurt smirks. "Oh trust me sir, Blaine needs no help whatsoever when it comes to balls."

            "That so?" father asks, looking at me, eyebrows raised slightly. "I don't recall that ever being the case."

            "What can I say?" Kurt says, stepping to the right and wrapping his arms around my waist, almost making me jump. "I really bring out Blaine's good side - and bad, for that matter."

            "I see..." father says, taking his seat at the head of the table, getting bored with the conversation already, and wanting to get back to his precious, precise schedule.

            I turn around in Kurt's arms, as he hasn't let me go yet. "What the hell Kurt?" I whisper furiously.

            "Trust me, I know what I'm doing," he responds before dropping his hands slightly to squeeze my ass then stepping back to reclaim his place next to mother.

            What the fuck is he playing at?

            Somehow I make it through the stress of breakfast with my overzealous brother, flamboyant boss, homophobic father, and pacifying mother. During that breakfast I find out my mother planned a dinner with the family and a couple of friends. Luckily she said she invited David, Wes, and Thad; hopefully having my old high school friends would help me through another horrid meal with all these people. If only them being there would guarantee father won't be as homophobic as usual...

            "But," mother says as Kurt, Cooper, and I help her carry the plates into the kitchen (even with a huge house, my mother insists on doing the work herself instead of hiring a maid), "before tonight I think I should have a little bonding time with Kurt; get to know him a little better." She turns and smiles at Kurt as she says this, and he hands her his dishes.

            I frown. "You two spent alone time together earlier before I woke up," I protest.

            "Blaine, you've had Kurt all to yourself for years now; I'm sure you can spare him for a few hours," mother scolds. "Besides, it'll also give you the chance to spend time and catch up with Cooper and your father."

            "Yeah bro," Cooper says with a smile and a playful shove of my shoulder, "we could go golf or something."

            "Cooper," I say in a tone you would use with a young child, "it's Christmas time in Ohio."

            He grins sheepishly and rubs at the back of his head with his right hand. "Oh yeah. Well we can go do something else."

            "Yeah, as if we're gonna get father out of his study," I grumble, already not looking forward to this day and it's not even 10 o'clock yet.

            "Perfect excuse to drink some good scotch," Coop says with a wink.

            I raise my brows skeptically. "At nine thirty in the morning?"

            "Come on, don't lie; you know you're gonna want it, spending more than a few minutes in the same room as father."

            I sigh. "Can't deny that logic."

            "Alright you two, scoot," mother speaks up, pushing us toward the doorway. "Quit complaining about spending time with your father and actually go do it; you're big boys."

            "Yes mother," we say simultaneously, just like we used to when we were kids, earning us another shove.

            "Go, I want to spend time with Kurt."

            As I walk out and toward the study with Cooper I glance back and see Kurt giving me a look that feels significant, but I have no clue what he's trying to say.

            "So Kurt," Patricia says after Blaine and Cooper leave, "how is Blaine doing? I mean, New York is such a big city, and I hear your profession isn't the kindest -"

            "He's doing great," I say with a strained smile. "I mean, he - yeah he's great." I hate lying to Patricia, she's such a nice woman, but I actually have no idea how Blaine is doing. And, if the other day was any indication - his little freak out at the office - I'd say he's not doing as well as he puts on.

            His mother sort of sighs in relief, "Oh, that's good. Do you - do you know if there's anything new going on in his life? Anything good? Because, while we do try to talk every week, he said the last time we talked that you guys were really busy with an upcoming show, so he said he'd just talk to me once the holidays came."

            "When was that?" I ask, curious.

            "Around Thanksgiving."

            "He hasn't called you in almost a month?!" I say, shocked. "Oh, rest assured, he is going to hear from me about that."

            Patricia chuckles. "Kurt, it's fine," she says, placing a hand on my arm. "I understand you guys get busy when you're preparing for a show."

            "Yeah, Blaine is especially busy this time around considering we're using a couple of his designs, and this is his last show as my assistant," I say.

            She frowns slightly. "What do you mean this is his last show as your assistant? Is he not doing a good job anymore?"

            "Oh no!" I rush, realizing what she's thinking. "He's doing such an excellent job that I decided he should get a promotion."

            "What?" Patricia exclaims. "That's great!"

            " Yeah, it was just a matter of time," I explain. "I mean, we've been using his designs more and more lately."

            "Aww I am so proud of him!" she gushes.

            "Yes, just one of many things to be happy for him," I say.

            "There's more? What other good news is there?"

            "Well," I say, turning to face Patricia, "Blaine probably wants to tell you himself - I mean, you are his mother after all - but he and I have gotten pretty close."

            She sort of squints, trying to figure out what I'm hinting at. "Come on," she begs when she doesn't get it, "you can tell me!"

            "No, I think I should let Blaine do that," I say.

            Patricia hits me lightly on the arm. "You are such a tease."

            "Mm that's what Blaine tells me," I mutter with a wink.

            "I can't believe you just said that," she giggles.

            "I can't believe you're laughing!" I say, starting to laugh as well.

            Our giggles then dissolve into full-on laughter; I'm surprised no one comes in to see why we've cracked.

            I sigh for what seems like the millionth time that morning and wave at the smoke drifting toward me from father's cigar. Cooper shoots me a look of apology for him. At least he remembered I hack up a lung every time I'm around smoke for any length of time, I think bitterly.  

            "Uh father," Cooper speaks up for me when he notices my eyes starting to water. "Could you put out your cigar? Blaine's about to cough a lung up."

            Father shoots me a disgruntled look. "Still can't handle a little smoke, Blainers?" he says, using the nickname Cooper came up with contempt. "What's the matter, that little boyfriend of yours turning you into even more of a pussy?" He puts particularly emphasis on the ‘boy' in boyfriend, like he can't believe that Kurt is actually a member of the same sex as him. "I bet neither one of you even know how to do anything worthwhile; you probably spend all your time at those little fashion shows of yours."

            Cooper starts fidgeting; every time he's in the room when father starts in with his slurs Cooper has to fight to not speak up because I asked him not to a long time ago.

            "God, I can't believe my sons are in acting and fashion, of all things," father complains.

            "You know what father?" I finally speak up. "Both of our jobs actually pay pretty well, if you hadn't noticed. And just because Kurt is an up and coming fashion designer, and just because he doesn't dress in a way you find proper, and he doesn't act like a ‘man,' doesn't make him any less of a man!"

            "Blaine," Cooper says, touching my arm and trying to calm me down.

            "No Cooper," I exclaim, "I'm tired of the way he treats me - treats us." I turn to father. "You have no right to speak about anyone this way! Cooper and I have turned out great. And Kurt? He is more of a man that you will ever be! He's proud of who he is, and I hope one day to be as comfortable with myself as he is."

            "Oh, so you want to be even more of a fairy?" father challenges.

            I stand up and clutch my hair in frustration. "Oh my god, you are so fucking frustrating!" I glare at him. "You want to know something about my boyfriend? He's not just my boyfriend!" Father stares back at me with something akin to shock. "That's right; Kurt and I are engaged. And guess what? We live in New York, so we can get married any time we want!"

            Father regains his voice. "No son of mine is getting married to another man -"

            "You don't have a say," I interrupt, getting angrier by the minute. "I love him and he loves me; that's all that matters here. If you don't like it, you can just fuck off!" With that I shove back my chair and storm out the door and outside into the blizzard that had started at some point, ignoring the various voices calling my name.

            I pace in the snow already piled in the front lawn, then just wander aimlessly down the street, not even noticing I'm wearing nothing but skinny jeans, a thin sweater, and my favorite pair of oxfords.