Peace out, New York. Headed to Ohio for the holiday. So thankful for family this time of year, esp @KurtHummel.

@Blaine Anderson

Forever thankful for family, friends and @BlaineAnderson. Wish us a happy flight!

@Kurt Hummel

*

Thanksgiving dawned bright and early for Blaine. He laid in bed with Kurt, his gaze moving over the remains of Kurt’s old bedroom as he got lost in his thoughts. The flight the night before had been quick and painless, and the two hour drive from Dayton had gone by in a flash. They’d arrived on Burt and Carole’s doorstep in time for dinner and had gone to bed shortly after that, once they’d caught up with Kurt’s parents. Burt and Carole had been spending most of their time in D.C., coming home on breaks to check in on the shop (now in the capable hands of Burt’s manager for day-to-day running), and were completely willing to spend Thanksgiving with Blaine’s family if it meant they didn’t have to cook.

It would be weird, having everyone in the home where he grew up. Kurt hadn’t even been there – they’d met long after his move to L.A. It would also be weird, because Blaine’s mother had moved back home with his father when Blaine had moved to New York with Kurt – he had no idea what the state of their marriage was currently. He only hoped that his father was on his best behavior. Sure, Carl Anderson had changed a lot in the last six months or so, but Blaine knew that his father was still struggling with things and sometimes said things that could be taken the wrong way.

Kurt rolled over with a sleepy sigh, blinking his eyes open to look at Blaine. “You look too deep in thought for this early in the morning,” he teased. Blaine smiled.

“Just thinking about dinner at my parents’.”

‘I’m sure it’ll be fine, Blaine,” Kurt whispered. “We’ll all be on our best behavior.”

“I hope so,” Blaine murmured.

“I can’t wait to see your bedroom,” Kurt replied.

“There’s not much of me left,” Blaine told him. “I took most of it when I went to LA.”

“Still, you spent sixteen years in that room, Blaine Anderson, and I want to see it,” Kurt insisted quietly.

“You will,” Blaine promised. He imagined what it would be like for a moment, and smiled.

“What?” Kurt asked.

“I’ve always wanted to kiss a boy in that room,” Blaine answered, grinning. “Indulge me later?”

“Naughty,” Kurt whispered, his cheeks turning pink. “Should I be aware of any other fantasies of yours?”

Blaine snorted. “I’m pretty sure we’ve done most of them already.”

There was a light knock at the door.

“Yeah?” Kurt called out, sitting up. He looked rumpled and absolutely delicious, but Blaine knew there was no time (and he wasn’t about to try anything with Burt and Carole just downstairs anyway). Carole poked her head in the door.

“Just wanted to let you boys know we have to head out soon,” she said. Kurt nodded and she shut the door. They listened as her footsteps grew quieter, meaning she had gone back downstairs.

“Guess it’s time to get this show on the road,” Kurt told him. Blaine nodded. He had no idea what to expect from today. He only hoped it went well.

*

Kurt eyed Blaine during the last leg of the drive to Westerville. Blaine had been quiet most of the way, and Kurt knew he was worried about how things would go with his parents. He was determined that Blaine would have a better Thanksgiving than ones in the past; he just hoped that Blaine’s parents were on board with that.

Kurt squeezed Blaine’s hand and gave him a smile when Blaine looked over at him.

“Which way, Blaine?” Kurt’s father interrupted.

“Left,” Blaine replied, leaning forward so that he could direct Burt properly.

The rest of the drive consisted of Blaine telling Burt which way to go and Kurt asking about various things in the area, trying to get a better idea of what it was like for Blaine to grow up around there.

They finally pulled up in front of a brick house and Kurt stared at it for a long moment. It was hard to imagine the Blaine he knew growing up in such a place – it seemed cold and unfeeling from the outside.

Blaine slid out first, taking Kurt’s hand and helping him out of the backseat. Burt helped Carole out and the four of them made their way up the front walk, Carole clutching a pumpkin pie in her hands. Blaine had told her that she didn’t need to bring anything (his parents would be pulling out all the stops, he was sure of it), but Carole had insisted on doing that much, since they were taking advantage of his family’s hospitality.

Mary, his parents’ housekeeper, opened the door at Blaine’s knock and Blaine grinned at her as he let everyone step inside the house in front of him.

She smiled and tsked at him. “You’re too thin.”

“I am not,” Blaine replied, pulling an envelope of money out of his pocket, slipping it into her apron as he leaned in to kiss her on the cheek.

“You know how I feel about that, Blaine Anderson,” she scolded, taking the envelope out. Blaine held his hands up in innocence.

“No give backs,” he said, grinning again. She tapped him lightly on the head with the envelope and then put it back in her pocket. Blaine noticed that Burt and Carole were smiling as well and hurried to introduce them. “Mary, this is Burt and Carole Hummel, Kurt’s parents.”

“Pleasure,” Mary said, nodding to them. “So this must be the Kurt I’ve heard so much about,” she continued, turning to Kurt. “He’s even prettier than on TV.”

Kurt blushed about four shades of red and Blaine chuckled. “Thanks,” Kurt managed.

“Where’s Father?” Blaine asked.

“In his study. Your mother is kitchen though,” Mary answered.

“How is he?” Blaine whispered to her, as Kurt, Burt and Carole slipped off their coats.

“He seems edgy today,” Mary told him. Blaine sighed. There went his hopes for a good holiday.

“I think Kurt and I might slip upstairs to my room for a few. Could you take Burt and Carole into the dining room?”

Mary nodded. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“That gives me so many options,” Blaine replied playfully, determined to enjoy as much of the day as possible.

He took Kurt by the hand and excused them as Mary led Burt and Carole away.

Kurt gave him a questioning glance.

“You wanted to see my room, remember?”

Kurt smiled. “Lead on then.”

*

We have arrived in the land of O-H-I-O. Thanks for all the holiday wishes!

@ KurtHummel

Kurt finished typing the tweet into his phone and smiled as it loaded. He noticed that there were a few updates from people that he followed and read through them quickly. Most of them were holiday related, except for one.

Cooper’s Inspirational Tweet of the Day: Always, *always* turn into a pose.

@CooperAnderson

He giggled and then exited out of that screen, sliding his phone into his pocket.

“What’s so funny?” Blaine asked.

“Just Twitter,” Kurt replied, not wanting to specify given the reaction Blaine had had the last time Cooper Anderson had been mentioned.

“You were the one who wanted to see my room,” Blaine pointed out, pouting. “You’re not even looking.”

Kurt just smiled and wandered around, taking in Blaine’s childhood bedroom. “X-men sheets?” he asked, touching the character comforter lightly with his hand.

“Shut up,” Blaine muttered, turning red. “I was fifteen and Wolverine was hot. I can’t believe these are still on the bed.” Kurt watched as he ran a hand over them. “I wouldn’t put it passed Mary to put these on the bed on purpose.”

“She seems a little Santana-like,” Kurt replied. Blaine laughed.

“Maybe with less violent tendencies.”

Kurt made a humming noise under his breath and glanced around the room, taking in the large bookshelf and photos of Blaine with friends from Crawford Country Day (based on the uniforms).

“How much longer do you think we can be up here?” Kurt wondered, glancing at Blaine.

“Not too much, probably,” Blaine replied. “Why?”

“Someone wanted to kiss me in here, if I recall correctly.” Kurt raised his eyebrows at Blaine.

“I dimly remember something about that,” Blaine murmured, taking Kurt by the hand and leading him over to the bed. They sat down on the edge of the bed, knees touching as they faced each other. Blaine’s hands cupped Kurt’s face and Kurt’s eyes drifted shut. He didn’t know why it was, but even Blaine’s simple touch had the ability to take him right out of his body.

There was a breath on his lips and then gentle pressure as Blaine’s mouth lightly touched his own. Kurt couldn’t remember the last time they’d kissed like this, soft, sweet and slow. Desire sparked down his spine and found himself gripping Blaine’s arms tightly. Blaine’s hands were still on his face; Blaine’s lips and now his tongue making Kurt’s head spin around.

Blaine moved his hands and pressed him back to the bed and Kurt went willingly, forgetting everything about where they were. It had been so, so long since he and Blaine could just be together, without someone demanding some of their time. It was easy to let himself get carried away.

His legs drifted apart of their own accord and Blaine nestled between them, heavy and hard against him. Kurt let out a quiet moan at the feeling of Blaine lying against him.

“Shh,” Blaine murmured, pressing kisses to Kurt’s neck and collarbone. That reminder was enough for Kurt to pull back.

“Your parents and my parents are downstairs,” he hissed. “What are we doing?”

Blaine ran a finger lightly down Kurt’s chest.

“If I’m lucky, you’re about to let me give you a blow job,” he said, his voice deep and husky. Kurt inhaled a breath.

“Blaine…” he trailed off. Holy hell, did he want to, but if they got caught…

“Please, Kurt,” Blaine pleaded. “Give me one happy memory to have in this room.”

“Okay, okay,” Kurt quickly agreed, not that he’d needed much convincing. Blaine kissed him hard, and then broke away, sliding down to work at the belt of Kurt’s pants, making fast work of the button and zipper, slipping them down just low enough to pull Kurt’s now hard and aching cock free.

Kurt groaned the moment Blaine’s mouth sank down, taking him almost completely. Blaine pulled off. “Shhhh!” he hissed.

“Sorry,” Kurt muttered. “You’re kind of making it difficult!” Blaine didn’t reply, just went back to what he was doing and making it incredibly hard for Kurt to think properly. He bit his lip hard to keep from making noise when Blaine hummed, the vibrations nearly making him jerk up from the bed. He slapped a hand over his mouth and gripped the edge of the pillow in his other. He would normally tangle his fingers in Blaine’s hair, but he didn’t think Blaine would appreciate that when they went downstairs.

Luckily he was close, and it didn’t take long before he came.

“That is the quietest I think you’ve ever been,” Blaine said, licking his lips and looking up at Kurt. Kurt couldn’t even catch his breath, it had happened so fast.

“I didn’t exactly want to be overheard,” Kurt mumbled, awkwardly tucking his cock back into his pants and fixing his belt. “Some kiss,” he continued, arching at eyebrow at Blaine.

Blaine had the good decency to blush. “Okay, so I might have fantasized about more than just kissing a boy in here.”

“Really?” Kurt exaggerated the word. “I couldn’t tell.”

“Don’t get cute.” Blaine poked him in the side. Kurt snorted.

“You love me when I’m cute,” he said. Blaine nodded.

“I do,” he agreed. “I love you all the time.”

“I love you, too,” Kurt murmured, kissing him softly. “Now let’s just hope no one downstairs has figured out what we’ve been up to.”

*

Blaine was giddy when they went down to join everyone. They’d stayed up long enough for his own erection to dissipate, cuddling on his bed, before ducking into the bathroom to make themselves presentable. Kurt had offered to help him out, but Blaine hadn’t wanted that. It was enough that he’d gotten Kurt off.

Kurt was still fussing with his hair as they headed into the kitchen.

“There you are,” his mother scolded. “You didn’t even come greet your mother.”

“Sorry,” Blaine replied, feeling sheepish. He leaned over and brushed a kiss on his mother’s cheek. She was already seated with Burt and Carole, trays of hors d’oeuvres on the table. Blaine sank into his seat next to Kurt, and noticed that his father was missing. “Where’s Father?”

“He’ll be right in,” Grace answered, taking a delicate bite of the food from her plate. Blaine nodded and then noticed there were one too many place settings at the table.

“Are we having another guest?”

Grace nodded, concern flashing across her features. She looked like she wanted to say something and Blaine didn’t know what to make of it. She seemed to finally settle on, “He should be here shortly.”

Sure enough, Blaine heard the doorbell ring a moment later. Voices trailed back to the dining room as Carl Anderson and the unknown guest approached. Blaine looked up from where he was popping an olive into Kurt’s mouth just in time to see his dad enter with another man, one who looked vaguely familiar.

“Hello everyone,” Carl greeted. “Please excuse my absence; I was waiting for our last guest.” He showed the man to his seat at the table. Blaine heard Kurt gasp loudly next to him, but didn’t get a chance to ask him why because his father continued speak. “This isn’t exactly the way that I wanted to do this, but I figured it would be best to just come out with it.”

“Father-" Blaine started, ready to ask who this man was, but Carl held up his hand for silence. “Cooper, this is my wife Grace and our son, Blaine. His boyfriend Kurt and Kurt’s parents, Burt and Carole Hummel.”

Cooper nodded as Carl continued. “Everyone, this is Cooper Anderson – my son.”

Blaine’s mouth fell open and he was sure he’d heard his father wrong.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Blaine whispered.

“This isn’t how I wanted to tell you, but yes,” Carl replied, “Cooper is my son – and your older brother.”